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No Pictures, Dude
When the event was ending, and plates were being cleared, I went over to say hello to Walsh. He was talking to Jeff Lynn, so I didn’t interrupt. It was the first time I had seen Walsh’s wife up close. She was a gorgeous, short blonde. And if she’s a judge, as one reporter said earlier…she should be given one of those cheesy TV shows immediately. When they finished their conversation, someone asked Walsh for an autograph. I told Lynne the song “Do Ya” is one of the best tunes in rock history. He smiled and thanked me. I forgot what I said to Walsh, because as we were talking, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Tom Jones walking over. He’s one of my moms favorites, so I thought I’d get him to sign my ticket for her. As he signed it, I asked how often he’s asked to sign underwear or bras. He said, “Oh, I’ve signed thousands.” He started chatting with a couple of women that were drooling over him. I called my mom to see if she was awake (it was around 11:00 p.m. and she’s usually in bed by 9:30). She said I woke her up and I quickly told her I might be calling back with someone that wanted to sign hi to her. The last time I did that to her, it was an older woman I met at a party that had broken my arm when I was 4-years-old. I asked Jones if I called my mom, would he talk to her. He smiled and said, “Oh sure, let’s do it.” As I pressed redial, he asked my moms name. I said, “Judi. She doesn’t know it’s you that’s calling, so you’ll have to say your name.” After a few seconds, with me praying that my mom didn’t just fall back asleep or just avoid dealing with whatever I had up my sleeve, I hear Jones say “Hello, Judi? Hi, it’s me Tom. Yeah, I just called to see how you were doing.” There’s a long pause and I hear him say, “I’m just hanging out with your son, having a few drinks. We’re having a great time.” There are shorter pauses, with Jones making small talk. I can only imagine what crazy things she’s saying to one of her heartthrobs. After a few minutes he said, “Okay, it’s late, so I’ll let you go. Nice talking with you.” He hung up the phone and handed it back to me. I thanked him and he thanked me. I gave one of the guys walking with him my card. He had told me he was his manager and I said, “Hey…for him doing that…if you guys are ever working on a charity or anything, I’ll gladly donate $500 bucks to it. Just call the number on here.”— October 7, 2009 3:18 p.m.
No Pictures, Dude
About 20 minutes later, we were having wine and mingling before the show started. I saw Martin holding court with a couple of people. I didn’t want to interrupt and ask him again. I saw his son, who has produced a number of musicians and also worked on those songs for the Vegas show. We talked briefly, and he seemed in good spirits. I asked if he could get the record signed for me and he said “Oh, that’s not going to happen tonight. My dad isn’t doing any autographs.” I told him how important it was to me, and how I’d even pay any amount of money to his dad or a charity of his choice.” He laughed and said, “Give me the money to get it signed, not him!” I laughed and said, “I’d do that.” As he walked away he said to send him an email and we’d see what happens. Before he walked backstage he turned back and said, “Make sure you insure it, though.” He also added, “It’s Giles, not John.” Damn. I had his name wrong. The dinner was incredible. The wine they brought us was great. And I sat at a table with a women named Charlie, that provided the wine. They had great stories about what it’s like running a wine shop. A reporter from the LA Times sat at the table with us, and was vigorously taking notes. I said “I feel guilty that he’s working so hard. I’m just watching Jeff Beck and drinking.” The table laughed. I saw someone I knew near the front of the stage, and I went over to talk to him. He was in awe of Beck, and had an album for him to sign. I said “I don’t think anyone will be able to get signatures tonight. I tried for George Martin earlier.” Just then, Beck walked over to talk to a show producer, and my friend got his autograph. I whipped out my ticket and had him sign that. Burt Bacharach was getting ready to go onstage and I told him his last show in San Diego was great. He looked at me a bit confused, before thanking me. I hadn’t seen him in San Diego, but I read a review. I went back to my table. In between songs and performances, an MC was being funny and auctioning items off. One item was sheet music to a Beatles song, signed by Paul McCartney and George Martin. I then wondered if that’s why Martin wasn’t signing other items. The most interesting item auctioned was having your name appear in a Playstation video game. Joe Walsh was in a bidding war with someone, and at around $15,000 he won. After more auctioned items, more bands performing Beatles tunes (including America, who was the only band that didn’t do multiple songs).— October 7, 2009 3:14 p.m.
No Pictures, Dude
I got a press credential as Tom Jones was soundchecking. I hear him singing an amazing version of The Long and Winding Road. A woman that claimed to be a police officer was trying to get into the event. She also wrote for some small magazine that nobody at the booth had heard of. She comes over to make conversation with me (and ask how I got a credential), she told me she has a son that’s a big time chef in Rancho Santa Fe. She said if I go there, he’ll hook me up with free food. Somehow, I doubted that. Rumor around the press table was that Paul McCartney would be showing up to this event. About 30 minutes later, security was going to take us to the red carpet, where we’re allowed to shout out questions and hope the celebs came over to answer them. When Yoko Ono showed up, she pretty much smiled and just walked by. The entire situation was awkward. I felt like the paparazzi outside the Oscar ceremonies. I heard people yell the name “Olivia,” and thought it was Olivia Newton-John. It was Olivia Harrison, George’s widow. Eagles guitar slinger, and Encinitas resident, Joe Walsh showed up with his wife. I heard one of the reporters next to me say “You know he married a woman that’s a judge down in San Diego.” I heard she was a lawyer. I’ve met him so many times before, I didn’t have anything to ask. When ELO singer and Traveling Wilbury Jeff Lynne walked by, I called him over. I said, “I don’t really have a question for you. I just wanted to say how great it was hearing two of your songs in Boogie Nights.” He thanked me and the pretty woman with him said “That was cool, wasn’t it?” The reporter next to me called Tom Jones over. He spent about 20 minutes answering his questions, even after one of the show coordinators kept saying, “Mr. Jones, we really should get going now.” Guitar virtuoso Jeff Beck walked by quickly, with sunglasses and a mop of hair over his eyes that looked like it hadn’t been combed in days. He looked like a rock star. George Martin showed up, and I noticed he would come to various reporters and answer their questions. When he got to me, I figured I’d ask a question before I asked him to sign the Sgt. Pepper record. I said, “I loved how you remixed the songs for Love in Las Vegas. That show is amazing.” He put his hand to his ear and said, “Yes, All You Need is Love was a difficult song to record.” He saw the confusion on my face and said “I’m sorry, I have difficulty hearing.” I then smiled and said, “That’s okay.” I showed him the Sgt. Pepper record, and as I was pointing out all the Beatles signatures on it and saying it wouldn’t be complete without him signing it, he quickly said “No, no. I can’t do that. I’ve got to go now.” Security swooped in and got him away from me.— October 7, 2009 3:12 p.m.
No Pictures, Dude
(story continued)... As I walked back over to the Grease booth to listen to Jeff Conaway talk to some fans, I spoke with the director of the movie. The only other thing he directed of note was The Blue Lagoon. He was signing a bunch of stickers, that I noticed another cast member signing earlier. I’m guessing they’re going to put these on huge movie posters or DVDs, and sell them as “autographed.” Not sure why they don’t just have a bunch of DVD sleeves, as most fans aren’t going to want something that’s just filled with stickers that are signed. I asked him if as a director and not someone seen on the screen, if that afford him a level of obscurity when out in public. He smiled and said, “Yeah, I have that semi-obscure degree of fame. I can go out and have dinner somewhere, unlike John Travolta. I might sign a few autographs at a film festival or something, but that’s about it.” I see Edd “Kookie” Byrnes, who I had forgotten was even in Grease. He also had some fame with the TV show “Sunset Strip,” and a hit song with Connie Stevens called “Kookie Kookie (lend me your comb).” There was even a diner called Kookie’s named after that, on the end of Miramar Road. It became Keith’s in the mid-90s. I tried talking with him, but he wasn’t very receptive. And I had read at a car show, he yelled at one man for videoing him, even as the mans young daughter cried. So I’m guessing he’s not the friendliest. I speak again briefly with Pearl. And he told me that the other cast members of Grease and Saturday Night Fever didn’t get much of a career boost from the success of those Travolta films. I wondered if he was implying that the actors were typecast, but felt it would be rude to ask him why he felt that was. After all, I first saw Stockard Channing in Grease, and she’s had a great career in film. Olivia Newton-John did a few things, before focusing more on music. And Jeff Conaway, well…he seemed to have ruined his career in other ways. I left well before the show ended on it’s second day. And as I was leaving, I ran into this crazy African-American guy I see at some concerts in San Diego. He was all excited because he just met Will Ferrell outside one of the talk shows. Ferrell tried running away from him, but finally stopped and quickly signed an autograph. I once did a story about how Will Ferrell was one of the worst autograph signers and isn’t great with fans. He then read what I wrote on Conan O’Briens old show, before holding up a mechanic hook for a hand and exclaiming “I can’t sign autographs! I have no hand! Did you ever consider that reason before writing this article?” It was pretty funny. I had to get to the fundraising event the Grammy’s were having with George Martin. It would be my last chance at getting his autograph on my Sgt. Pepper record, which is signed by all the Beatles.— October 7, 2009 3:10 p.m.
Don't Box Me In -- Kids and Animals Do the Darndest Things
I agree, Pete. But sometimes on these blogs, people think I'm mean. They might say something like "Why would you want a 13-year-old in a box, to get hit by a bridge? She would die." Well, I'm guessing the 13-year-old is an idiot, as she has an idiotic mother, and the genes are usually passed down. Also, people forgot that it's easy (for me) to call someone in Alabama an idiot, because I don't know her and she's doing something idiotic. But if it was my neighbor, I wouldn't feel the need to go to her door and call her out on her stupidity. (on that note...I heard Tia Tequila tried to kill herself. she mentioned it on some tweet or something. now she says she will in two weeks. would anyone think I was a jerk if I said "Please, do it, Tia!")— October 7, 2009 10:11 a.m.
The Beatles vs. Dr. Dre
Well, again, lyrically those Monkees songs may have had something (love all the songwriters you mentioned, aside from Neil Diamond, perhaps). But the songs are just too much bubble gum crap for my tastes. John Cale, on the other hand, is a musical genius. I could listen to him stand on stage and just make strange noises with an electric bass, and be happy. In fact, I think I have!— October 7, 2009 8:42 a.m.
The Beatles vs. Dr. Dre
My mom always claimed to not like The Beatles. But when I got to the bottom of what that was all about, it stems from her just being sick of my stepdad always playing them in the car. She got sick of them. That's understandable. But to say you "didn't like them" is just plain odd. I often say I don't like the Monkees, but even I can admit they have one or two catchy tunes (and how can I not like Steppin Stone? That's a wonderful song). I would tell Carrey he is insane for saying that. I'd also tell him everyone I know hates The Cable Guy, and my girlfriend and I love that bizarre, dark comedy. Different strokes, I guess.— October 7, 2009 2:08 a.m.
40 is the New...
To me, a Piston is a basketball player in Detroit!— October 6, 2009 6:21 p.m.
The Beatles vs. Dr. Dre
Who the hell isn't a fan of the Beatles?— October 6, 2009 6:20 p.m.
As Snail Mail Fails
I've still yet to believe cops make as much as you claim, though. Otherwise, everyone would be becoming a cop!— October 6, 2009 3:29 p.m.