My Real Memoir
Stardom was imminent!
True, I hadn’t had any lead roles in our college theatre productions so far. But near the end of my first semester, the school paper had complimented my cocky Irishman performance in an otherwise “way-too-overdone” comedy. I’d accomplished this by passively ignoring our vaudeville-esque director’s constant notes to “make it bigger!” (Actors should never snub their directors—but what do you do when your director is leading a lemming-charge over a cliff?)
And true, even though my band The Daily Planet had played an ABC music special, Capitol Records hadn’t called, Tony Bennett had lost our phone number, and Debbie Reynolds thought we were too loud.
Still, our friends, upcoming football legend Terry Bradshaw and his future wife Olympic medalist JoJo Starbuck were famous. Well, OK, we didn’t actually know them, but lead-guitarist Marc and I were in a Psych 100 class with them. So, obviously, we were laying the groundwork for celebrity simply by taking that class.
Plus, our new agent Fiona had signed us to an album deal with an indie music producer! And we’d been offered the house band gig at a soon-to-open nightclub in Whittier called The Garage. While buying a PA, we chatted about our mutual impending fame with Danny, one of three singers in a band that had just finished their first album. And two months later, just as Three Dog Night’s first single was starting to get airplay, we opened for them at The Garage. Their first mega-hit “One” came out that spring.
Surely we would follow in our famous friends’ footsteps. Heck, we even practiced being famous. At a popular new record store, we told a wide-eyed clerk in our best Liverpudlian accents that we’d just arrived “in the States” and wanted to see if they had our new album yet – and all the birds behind the counter asked for our autographs.
While working on our album, we did a teen dance at a country club we’d played before. Only now, having seen our TV special, they cheered our every song, swamped us for autographs, and chased us, screaming our names, as we left the parking lot!
Too excited to go home, we chattered like oversized toddlers at a Denny’s, and then finally unloaded our equipment from my dad’s truck at 2:30 a.m. Before going in, we noticed the nearby hills provided an awesome late-night echo. “Hello, world…orld…orld! We’re the Daily Planet…anet…anet!” we shouted over and over again.
Minutes later, while I was hunting for a snack, the refrigerator door mysteriously slammed itself shut. My dad, who as a newspaper dealer was due to get up in half an hour, was standing there in his boxer shorts. “Oh, hey, Dad. The gig was great! We—” Without a word, he punched me in the stomach (honestly, it could have been much harder than it was) and went back upstairs.
And he didn’t even ask for my autograph.
My Real Memoir is a series. To read the next one, click here.
Sleep-deprived dads can be cranky!
Yep, and teenagers shouting at 2:30 in the morning can be clueless. A volatile combination.
Thanks for sharing another life-defining story and those were the days we thought they would never end – and they really haven’t life just goes on new sojourns! 😊
So true, AW.
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Love all of this…and the hits – of all sorts – just keep on coming! You were in an intro Psych class with Terry Bradshaw? Wow…and whoa! 😜
Yep, just us and 300+ other people, Vicki, so we were practically BFFs. ;>)
LOL…still…you are the most prolific person I know in the ‘star sighting’ category. Go Mitch. 🥰
I guess breakfast at Denny’s is standard practice for bands
It was back then, Kara!
Fun memoirs, Mitch.
Thank you, Ms. Jadeli.
I remember being out late with friends after watching one or two of the local rock groups perform. Everybody usually ended up at Denny’s afterwards. It must have been because, at the time, they were open in the middle of the night.
Yep, and they were everywhere.
We usually hit the International House of Pancakes or Jack In The Box. We had to be careful and park out of site because five guys piling out of a Cadillac Funeral Hearse gave folks the creeps. Ahh, those were the days of good times. Right?
;>)
How exciting! Right up until the punch in the gut (what an ass). Reminds me of going to Howard Johnson’s after a gig, arriving around 2 am. I dated a drummer in college and very briefly played bass in a band (until we realized that the lead couldn’t lead for beans and because I was very new at bass, was let go for a gal who played keyboards and sang).
Ah, the forever-changing configuration of band members. Good memories, nevertheless. You might enjoy this piece on my relationship with my dad, Susan: https://mitchteemley.com/2019/10/10/love-before-its-too-late-2/
What a beautiful tribute to your Dad. Trust me when I say I understand a parent whose actions may not be loving, yet knowing they love us such as they can. Thanks for sharing the other post with me.
Glad I did, Susan.
😂 hilarious
I love when you write about your teenage band years. It takes me back to a cool and optimistic time! My favorite line this time is: “… we chattered like oversized toddlers at a Denny’s, and then finally unloaded our equipment from my dad’s truck at 2:30 a.m.” Maybe that’s a “modern surprised by joy” moment. I just finished C.S. Lewis. Can you suggest the next book of his? I’m having trouble figuring out where to go next! Thanks, Mitch!
There are so many good Lewis books and collections to choose from! ‘Mere Christianity’ and ‘The Screwtape Letters’ are classics, as are ‘The Chronicles of Narnia’ and his Space Trilogy.
Thanks, Mitch. I’ve read the Chronicles of Narnia. Maybe I’ll try “Mere Christianity” next. Happy, merry, wonderful Christmas to you and yours!
‘Mere Christianity’ is marvellous. Happy, merry, wonderful Christmas to you and yours as well, Joanne!
This is outstanding. What an insight into your world! Loved it.
Thank you, Alison!
Mitch… you got a taste of it anyway! I only signed a couple of autographs… not bad hanging with a future Three Dog Night singer.
Heady times for sure, Max.
Wow, I have heard of Sleep Walking but not Sleep Punching.
;>)
Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!
Thank you, and the same to you, Dawn!
Mitch, I love your sense of humor! You always make me laugh 😆
Delighted to hear that, Peggy!
Merry Christmas, Mitch. May ALL your dreams come true.
Gary Avants Forbear Productions * *garyavants66@gmail.com garyavants66@gmail.com
Thank you, Gary, and likewise, my friend.
I think like me, you’re missing the 20th Century! lol Merry Christmas, Mitch!
And Merry Christmas to you, Joy!
What a wonderful life, Mitch! I love it. 👍💕
Thank you, Iman!
You’re welcome.
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