I Was Bob Dole's Wingman - In Memory of Bob Dole

 "Senator Robert Joseph Dole died early this morning in his sleep. At his death, at age 98, he had served the United States of America faithfully for 79 years," according to a statement from his family.

I hated Bob Dole. I loved Bob Dole. A staunch conservative, he defended the criminal Nixon till the end. He fought for the people of Kansas, including the farmers and the hungry, as a good liberal should. He was uncompromising, and he knew when to compromise. None of these are contradictions. Bob Dole was a great American.

I had the honor of meeting Senator Dole in about 1997 or '98, not too long after his final run for president in '96. I was in Washington, DC, at a conference for nonprofit folks working on issues of hunger and food insecurity. After the first long day of sessions, there was an evening reception and into the midst of it all walked a familiar face, as casually as anybody else in attendance.

Others came up to greet him and awkwardly tried to reach out with their right hands for a proper handshake and failed to understand when he responded with this left (good) hand. When it was my turn, I somehow had the presence of mind to reach out with my left. I think he appreciated that, because I was swept along with him into the next conversation.

Bob and I were then in a group of several of college interns, mostly female, who were working the conference. Rather than talk about food policy, Bob wanted to know what universities everybody attended, and how were their football teams doing. I guess I was still fresh enough out of college (grad school, at least) to participate and chat with the young women and my new best bud, Bob. If neither of us were married, we might have gotten lucky.

Before too long, however, Bob went home to his wife, Elizabeth, and I went up to my room (alone) to call my wife, Leslie, and tell her who I'd been hanging out with.

There was a time in America, not all that long ago it seems, when political opponents weren't seen as the enemy. We could disagree, grumble, and fight, and still find common ground to stand on. There was a time when somebody with a different position than ours could still earn our respect for standing up for what they believed was right. Not every difference was considered proof of evil intent, and it rarely was.

Senator Bob Dole died early this morning. May his memory be for a blessing.

Mellencamp & Carter: New Concert, Old Memories

John Mellencamp & Carlene Carter
Paramount Theater, Oakland, CA
July 25, 2015

John Mellencamp gets no respect. I know because I'm as guilty as anybody when it comes to under-estimating this rock icon. I want to review the concert of his that I saw last night, but first I need to go back 33 years or so and issue an apology.

In 1982 I was a manager for the Music Plus chain of record stores. One fine day I was at the home office attending one of our regular managers meetings when they rolled out a TV, dimmed the lights, and played us a video of a new song we would be promoting.

We thought it was a joke. We recognized the artist from his prior poor-selling albums, but this little ditty about teenagers sucking down chili dogs behind Tastee Freezes in the heartland (among other things) did not impress us. I get it now, but back then I was just too cool to relate. We laughed through it and made rude jokes about his height and how Pat Benatar's cover his previous single, "I Need A Lover," had outsold his.

The lights came up and the bosses said, "And now we'd like you to meet Mr. Cougar..." When the song had started he had apparently slipped into the room and was seated right behind us. Oops. If he overheard anything he didn't let on and very kindly spoke with each of us and signed all our copies of American Fool.

In the decades since I've slowly come to respect him more and more. While I've never been a super fan, I have bought a couple of CDs, and appreciated him as a thoughtful person, and a dedicated musician. Still, when the Mrs. suggested we see him in concert I was slow to jump on it, until she told me the opening act would be Carlene Carter.

By the time of my Johnny Cougar faux pas, Carlene Carter had already become my secret country crush. Back around 1979 I'd slip on Musical Shapes or Two Sides to Every Woman between the Ramones, Who, Deep Purple, and Kinks records that were my norm. I've followed her career off and on since then, but never had a chance to meet her or even see her live until last night.

Her performance was worth the 35 year wait. Just her and her guitar (and occasional piano) was enough to fill the hall with raw country emotion and rock 'n' roll power. Her new CD, Carter Girl, is a tribute to her family, so the show was full of stories of learning to play guitar from grandma, Maybelle Carter, getting songwriting advice from her mother, June, and watching them perform with the rest of the Carter Family. She shared how her life changed when her mom married "Big John" (Cash), growing the family, but keeping the roots close to home and their music.

Most of the Mellencamp audience may not have known who that Carter Girl was when she stepped out on stage, but by the time she was done they were cheering every song, laughing at all her stories, and singing along with (her great uncle) A.P. Carter's version of "Can the Circle Be Unbroken (By and By)."

After her set she took a table in the lobby, signing pictures and CDs, talking with the fans, and smiling for pictures with every one of us. Getting that hug from her will stand as one of my favorite "brush with greatness" stories for many years to come.

That would have been enough for the night, but the lights were dimming in the theater, and Mr. Mellencamp was taking the stage, so we re-took our seats.

Did I mention that John Mellencamp gets no respect? I mean, I knew he'd put on a good show. I didn't know he'd put on a great one. The man, and his six-piece band, are professional rockers. They are note perfect, powerful, and play off each others' strengths like a well-oiled machine. And why shouldn't they be tight? Guitarist Mike Wanchic has been with Mellencamp for 40 years! Violinist Miriam Sturm for over 20.

There were (most of) the hits you'd expect (or demand) to hear - after all these years you kind of forget just how many he's had - and plenty of new songs too in the nearly two hour set. While most of them were played seriously, even he's now laughing at "Jack and Diane," doing it solo acoustic, while the rest of the band took a quick break.

"I don't know why I even play this thing anymore, other than that you expect it," was part of the intro. He then let the audience do most of the work, laughing and correcting them when they launched into the chorus after the first verse. "No, the chorus doesn't come until after the second verse! If I'd known then that you wanted to go right to the chorus I could have saved a lot of time and trouble coming up with that second verse."

Miss Carter came back on to join the band on a couple of numbers from Ghost Brothers of Darkland County, a musical that Mr. Mellencamp wrote with Stephen King (yes, that Stephen King). Rumor is that once the tour is over, Mellencamp and Carter will be recording a duets album together.

The show continued and rocked some more. I thought it was coming to a crescendo when the Walls Came a-Tumblin' Down, but it just continued to build from there. The entire audience were on their feet screaming along with the last several numbers. He Fought Authority, and I swear this time he won.

Bottom line: It was a thrill to hear and meet Carlene Carter after all these years, and John Mellencamp deserves our respect as one of the hardest working rockers we've got. John, I'm sorry for making fun of your video. And your name. And your height. You rock, sir. Thank you.

BWG2: Diane Keaton’s Hotel Room (& Belinda Carlisle’s breast)

My last posting here, Brush With Greatness #1: Carole King, got a pretty good reaction, so I'll continue the series now with a story requested by one the participants in it: my brother Steve.

This story is from about 1988, also from my time working at Limelight Film & Video in Hollywood. We were shooting a couple of videos for former GoGo, Belinda Carlisle, Heaven is a Place on Earth, and the follow-up, I Get Weak, each of which was to be directed by the fabulous and talented Diane Keaton.

My job as a staff production assistant sometimes put me on-set, carrying cables, moving equipment, painting signs, buying sushi, or other such tasks, and between times were spent driving up and down LA's Westside running scripts, tapes, and money all over town.

Ms. Keaton arrived the evening before we were to shoot I Get Weak, and was staying at the Shangri-La Hotel in Santa Monica. I was to drop off some last minute papers and notes along with a cassette of the song at her hotel for her to review before the shoot.

I pulled up to the Shangri-La, went to the front desk, explained I had a package for Ms. Keaton, and figured that I'd leave it there, and my day was done.

The desk clerk told me, "Hold on a second. Don't go anywhere." He probably thought I was rather suspicious and he wasn't going to take any chances on my making an escape. He called up to her room, "There's a guy here with a package for you?" Then to me, "Are you from Limelight?" I nodded. He told her, "Yes," then handed the phone to me.

"Do you just want to leave it up front? Or, no, hold on, do you mind bringing it up to my room?"

I didn't mind. I got the room number, went up to the room, knocked on the door, and was invited in. Just me and one of my favorite actresses, alone in her room. I handed her the envelope, she opened it, checked out the contents, talking to herself, "Very good. Excellent."

Finally, after what seemed like an hour in her company, but was probably about 10 seconds, she thanked me and gestured to the door letting me know our encounter was complete. I don't remember if I managed to utter even one word in her presence.

The next day - the day of the shoot - I was off, and hanging out with my brother, Steve. After telling him about the encounter of the night before, I asked if he'd like to stop by the set and watch them shoot for a few minutes. He didn't take much convincing.

There was Belinda, with Diane screaming at her to "Act! Dammit!" doing take after take, and still not getting it the way Ms. Keaton wanted. Belinda tried harder, and harder. So hard, in fact, that her actions led to a wardrobe malfunction and one of her breasts sliding out of her top.

Steve still thanks me for that. Belinda's breast was good, but being alone with Diane Keaton in her hotel room was better.

Brush With Greatness #1: Carole King

One thing I've pretty much resisted doing is talking about meeting celebrities. Until now, I guess.

Having been a music and film obsessed teenager and young adult in Los Angeles, then working first in major record stores in Hollywood and Studio City, then working for a music video production company, I've crossed paths with many famous people.

It was just part of what I was doing at the time, and not really that big a deal, and so I don't usually talk about it. But, for whatever reason, or maybe just for the hell of it, I think I'll start sharing some of those stories here for those who care about such things.

During my time as a production assistant at Limelight Film & Video in Hollywood (roughly 1988-89) I worked with dozens of popular artists. But one of my favorite moments of that time came from somebody I only met on the phone.

We had just completed the Bridge of Sighs video for Louise Goffin, when one of the Limelight office staff came to me, very irritated, and said, "Louise Goffin's mother is on the phone. She wants a copy of the video," (exasperated over-dramatic sigh), "Do you mind talking to her?"

Understanding that Louise was the daughter of Gerry Goffin and Carole King, one of the most successful songwriting teams of the 1950-60s, and appreciating that Carole King's Tapestry held the record for most weeks on the Billboard chart for an album by a female artist (a record eventually broken by Whitney Houston), I didn't mind. I picked up the phone.

KG: "Ummm... Hello?"

CK: "Hi, this is Carole. I'm Louise Goffin's mom. How does the video look?"

KG: "Well... it looks very good, actually. Suits the mood of the song, and Louise looks great..."

We talked like that for about 5-10 minutes, and I shared how I'd enjoyed Louise's work since her Kid Blue debut, but that this new album showed a new maturity, yadda, yadda, yadda. Since she wanted to talk about Louise, and had not introduced herself as "Carole King," I refrained from comparing Louise's songs to Carole's.

Eventually we got around to her asking if it were possible for us to send her a VHS copy of Bridge of Sighs. Yes, we could. "Where should I send it?"

CK: "To Carole King, c/o..." (address in NYC, where she was then working on a play).

That five or ten minutes has stuck with me more than many of the other encounters with celebrities I met in person, and been a favorite moment of mine, because she wasn't being Carole King, most successful female composer of the 20th century (nearly 120 songs on the Billboard charts), popular recording artist, and sometime actress.

She was just being little Carol Klein, Jewish momma, who only wanted to talk about how proud she was of her baby. I had a glimpse of the real Carole King, and she did not disappoint.