My Rocker Period

I was early for a lunch appointment today, so I browsed the old photographs on the wall of the restaurant. The owner was setting up tables.

One picture stirred a twinge. It was a teenage band. From the garb, I’d guess circa 1966-69. “Are you in this shot, Steve?”

Usually busy and taciturn during the lunch hour, Steve sprouted a rare grin. “Yep, that’s me on bass.” We exchanged a look that felt familiar.

In the mid-80s, I attended a convention in Indianapolis. I was in the hotel room, taking advantage of the cable TV, which was still somewhat a novelty. A movie came on and I caught snippets of it as I readied for the opening session of the meeting. Before long, I found myself transfixed. It was like a slice of my life. Fortunately, I glimpsed the clock radio and was just able to shrug on a suit in time to make the first meeting. I hastily checked the TV schedule before dashing to the elevator.

The meetings extended into the evening. A cocktail hour followed. I found myself engaged in conversation with Rich, who had a business similar to mine in Baltimore. He kept checking his watch. “Got a late date?”

“No. I was thinking of getting up early tomorrow.”

“Sessions don’t start until ten.”

“I know. This is going to sound dumb, but I got hooked on a movie in my room and I want to catch the end. I figure my only chance is when it repeats about four a.m.”

“Eddie and the Cruisers.”

“How did you know?” We exchanged a look and knew.

“I’m there, man. You played in a band.”

“Sure did. Your place or mine?” We enjoyed the movie and swapping tales of great gigs we had played.

I don’t remember exactly when I had hooked up with Sooz. Probably sixth grade. He was very intelligent, creative, and humorous, and didn’t feel compelled to knuckle under the iron fist of the school administration. In short, he was my mirror image (although not nearly as good-looking).

We started out collaborating on elaborate practical jokes, which often resulted in detentions and suspensions. This did little to deter us. An astute teacher decided to channel our creative energy, and had us write plays and skits for the drama club. This worked for a while, but spawned higher aspirations.

We co-authored, published and sold a newspaper of the future (some date in 2000) that featured articles projecting the fates of teachers, administrators and fellow students. It sold out almost immediately, with many appreciating the humor and satire. Not all did (principally the subjects of the articles) and we landed on the suspension list again.

But, the pen is mightier than the sword. We were hardly back in school when we conjured up the idea of a dating directory. It was a small matter of collecting juicy tidbits about the talents of the socially active among us. The first printing was quickly grabbed up and we were about to go back to press when the weight of authority landed heavily upon us. We had to turn over any and all documents, plus donate all the proceeds to the pep fund to avoid expulsion. Where was the ACLU when we needed it?

I might add that this was not the only toll exacted. Some of those listed, or friends thereof, had bones to pick with us. We had to watch each other’s back for a year. The price of freedom is eternal vigilance.

And, don’t think our parents looked the other way in all of this. It was still the age of when you were in more trouble when you got home than you were at school.

We did draw three-day suspensions on that one. This gave us time to learn our lesson, which is to say, hatch our next plot. Sooz wanted to produce a movie and enter it in an amateur competition sponsored by a film company. I wanted to start a rock band. We compromised and did both.

I liked my idea a lot better (naturally). This is my blog, so if Sooz wants to extol his concept, he can put it in his. But, in all fairness, the film turned out very well and won Honorable Mention (should’ve placed first). So, it does deserve a little space, here.

Sooz’s idea was a spoof on “Goldfinger.” This sparked some enthusiasm in me, because I could easily picture myself in the James Bond role.

Not so the rest of our team. Their perception of me differed from mine. Over my strenuous objections, I was cast in the role of Oddjob, Goldfinger’s Korean muscle who cut people down with the flick of his steel-brimmed bowler. Except, this was a spoof, so he wasn’t Korean in our film. My character was a rabbi who flung a steel skull cap to dispatch adversaries.

We recouped expenses and a little more by renting out copies to various clubs and organizations. An article in the local newspaper generated publicity for us.

The band had tougher sledding. In Philadelphia, we were in the shadow of American Bandstand, and every greaser with a guitar pick had designs on becoming the next Frankie Avalon or Bobby Rydell to emerge from the neighborhood. Competition was stiff, to say the least. We played a number of gigs for no more compensation than the exposure.

But, I wouldn’t trade those good times for a record contract. We bought a dilapidated hearse to haul our gear, and gave it a full out custom job. So much for the meager profits. Also blew a few bucks on Dixie Peach pomade to hold the DAs (duck’s ass hairdo) in place under the hot lights. Kind of like Vaseline laced with cheap perfume.

Of course, you can’t have a band without creative differences. I found a lot of resonance with this in “Eddie and the Cruisers.” Sooz was enamored with “The British Invasion.” I was all-American, and totally into Dion and the Belmonts. I also wrote some songs and judged them to be excellent. There’s a shock. But, the market would dictate. Especially at the Jersey shore, where the Beach Boys and Jan & Dean held sway.

Our closing number at the shore was invariably “I Get Around.” Couldn’t do it without at least three encores demanded, and the accompaniment of a couple hundred rabid teens.

In addition to creative differences, we had girlfriend issues. Yoko Ono came as no surprise to me. Some of the girls advocated for their men to get more leads or solos. Others were more intent upon taking a truculent stance at the edge of the stage and staring off would-be groupies. That’s a buzz-killer.

But, we weathered it all till graduation and new lives. Net, net, we probably cleared about 49 cents. Hey, that was a couple gallons of gas back then.

We profited a great deal in other ways. Sooz returned to his first love, and took off for Hollywood. Many did that, but he screen wrote some of the top-selling films. Sheldon (“Call me Shellie”) was our reed man and business manager. In high school, he was sashaying around the halls in a herringbone sport coat, black turtleneck and wayfarer sunglasses, stabbing his finger at people and saying “We’ll do lunch; we’ll do a deal.” He wound up managing talent like Mel Tillis and The Oak Ridge Boys.

Even if the rest of us didn’t pursue entertainment careers, I can’t help but think we took lessons that served us well in life. I think we even turned out better than the guys in “Eddie and the Cruisers.”