Lou Reed...orange leather in dead of winter!

This past week when I happened across a couple of clips on Lou Reed (who has been in concert lately on the cirucit) I recalled an off-beat encounter many years ago in New York City

A friend of mine - Roberta - used to reside at Sutton Place with her husband (an ad agency man) back in the seventies - and was an acquaintance of Lou in some capacity.

If I recall correctly, Roberta and I met at Max's Kansas City, a hot little "in" spot in the Village where the celebrity clientele used to throw chick peas at each other.

I was on an apartment search, and the party girl of the hour, gracously invited me to stay with her family for a few days until I got situated.

Roberta was pretty and petite and a former model.

I think her hubbie was pleased that we became friends because he felt I was a good influence on her.

While he was busy at work hours on end, Roberta - social butterfly extraordaire - was out mixing and mingling with the trendy jet-set.

She loved to shop at Bloomies (Bloomingdales).

In fact, if I am not mistaken, Roberta was the one who first introduced me to the rarefied air of the prestigious department store all the rage in NYC.

Her eclectic circle of friends consisted of fashion models, musicians, and groupies.

One evening, we were all lolling around the spacious living-room chatting each other up, when Roberta announced that Lou Reed was stopping in to - as a friend in Canada would charmingly put it - say boo.

Being the star-struck kid that I was in those days, my jaw dropped!

If you lived in the "Big Apple", chances are you caught a glimpse of wild man Reed, dashing about the dynamic city core.

But now, he was going to be a party guest in the same tony enclave as me!

After what seemed to be an agonizing wait, the buzzer rang at the door.

When Roberta strolled over to answer, the well-heeled doorman below simply uttered up two words.

"It's him."

In a few tantalizing moments, Lou Reed was striding through the beautifully-crafted door - with guitar in hand - dressed head-to-toe in an eye-popping orange leather outfit.

It was a startling knock-out image to drink in - especially when you consider that in the dead of winter without a month or two of sun - Lou's face was pale with a slight green tinge to it.

Just like the rest of us, uh huh.

Surprisingly, he was quite the down-to-earth dude!

At one point in the conversation, he whipped out his guitar and strummed it a bit.

When I noted I was pursuing a singing career - within minutes - Lou dragged me into a rock n' roll version of "Some Where Over the Rainbow".

Shortly after, he departed to meet a couple of social obligations 'round town.

Sadly, that was the last I saw of him.



"Walk on the Wild Side" (penned a short while later) included a lyric about a friend of mine - Andy Warhol star - Jackie Curtis.

In that tune, if you recall, Lou sang:

"Jackie was just speeding away."

Yes, Jackie thought she was James Dean for a day.

And, Little Joe?

Nope. Never once gave it away.

I wondered if our little encounter ever inspired him to write a line or two about me?

Naw!

Favorite Lou Reed tune?

Satellite of Love!

Perfect Day (which I hope to record one day) is a close second!

Lou, if you catch this little tribute, howdy!


3 Stooges - David Bowie, Iggy Pop, and Lou Reed...

The Rocker...side-splitting film theatrics. Rainn Wilson a "hoot"!

New York Dolls Big Apple pix...

Last month, I caught the high-energy premiere for - "The Rocker" - at a Film Festival in Las Vegas.

Now that slapstick promos are starting to stream across the Internet, I anticipate the side-splitting comedy will be opening soon at a Theatre near you.

The red-carpet affair was a blast!

Rainn Wilson - sizzlin' hot comic of the moment - caused quite a stir when he arrived in full regalia - outlandish over-the-top Rock Star attire - in what was billed as "The Largest Limo" in the free world...with a rag-tag band of friends in tow - a midget, scintillating showgirls, a Centurion, Magician, uh-huh!

Post: 07/13/2008

For those who grew up on Rock Music, the film is a must-see. After all, its a dead-on send-up of the entire "Rock" generation, which delights.

Lainn's wild characterization and skitzy screen persona hit my funny bone, no problemo!

And - in addition - "Rocker" managed to conjure up a handful of delicious memories from the far reaches of my psychedelically-enhanced grey matter!

Back in the seventies - a hip dude I knew - was a roadie with the J. Geils Band. So, of course, he liked to party-hearty. On the weekends - or when he had some down-time off-the-road - the two of us would get all gussied up in pink spandex pants, flimsy silk shirts with ruffles down the front, and boots with four-inch heels; then, trek down to Max's Kansas City in downtown NYC.

Inside this den of iniquity, ragged Rockers and underground Stars from the Warhol Factory, hung out nightly and well into the witchin' hour.

During that time-frame, the New York Dolls were all the rage!

In "Rocker", Lainn plays a dynamic hard-driving drummer for an up-and-coming band. Just as the leading-edge musicians are about to sign a lucrative contract sure to guarantee a launch into the stratosphere of sound, the band is forced to dump Lainn's character from the line-up in favor of a nephew of the record exec who's going to be pulling the career strings.

The rejection is not taken lightly; in fact, the jilted skins expert slumps into a twenty-year funk and it does not appear he'll ever snap out of it.

Then, one day, his nephew's is in dire need of a drummer for their garage band.

The opportunity is met with a lot of consternation, at first; but, the faded rock dinosaur finally commits.

The band's first stage appearance is on the verge of resounding success, when Lainn's character suddenly "flashes back" and goes overboard. His fatal reach for the immortal abyss turns into a catastrophic failure; consequently, he ruins the first gig.

In fact, the band crumbles; goes kaput.

But, there is a resurrection and a finale a filmgoer won't want to miss.

Lainn steals the movie, hands down; partly due to his amazing comic-timing, but also because he's been given well-scripted material to springboard off of.

One of my favorite lines in the film occurs when the rocker notes that the music business can be a tough row to hoe.

"They play Celine Dion in the elevator. That doesn't make it right."

But, a relatively new face - in the role of a sleazy Band Manager (played to the hilt) - is the one to watch out for. That actor is going places, no doubt.

Christina Applegate turns in a well-keyed performance as a young mom protective of her naive teenager.

All the supporting players are believable, likable, and round out the entertainment value of the well-produced film.

Rock on, eh?

Christina Applegate plays squeaky clean...