Damn, John! I thought you’d died up there. It’s been ages and then you hit us with this gem. Who knew? You really did rub elbows, toes or some other anatomical part with some doozies. And yes, I’m old enough to have recognized every name and group you’ve written about. I even have a famous person encounter who crossed your path as well; Adam Clayton Powell. How ‘bout that? Not bad for a little old mountain girl. You being from that part of Cali though, I can understand how your parents might have encountered some of the most illustrious of the time and as sharp as you are, you must have had an above average gene pool for your zygote to draw from. Your folks must have been quite a pair-until they weren’t. I’m going to have to go back and reread your book now in light of all this new information.
At any rate, this has been a fun read. You didn’t mention it but I’m assuming you’re still at Home Depot? Naturally, I’ve been keeping up with Aville and the recovery effort in the entire area. My heart is still broken just knowing what people are having to face each day. My oldest was there the other day, is in Charleston now with sibs but will be back there in a few days for a Dad visit. He’ll give me a full report, I’m sure. Take care and don’t be a stranger.
My most famous person story is having dinner with Tim Sample and his family because my mother was collaborating to make cards with him.
To me, I was happy to have a meal in a regular house with electricity and everything and kept real quiet hoping no one noticed I didn’t belong.
I was born in 1974. When and where in 1974 are lost to mystery and history. I must content myself with “somewhere in the woods in the winter” but that is another story for another time.
I love this story. I wish I had money to subscribe. I don’t even have the money to go to Denny’s these days. Thank you for sharing.
"I was born somewhere in the woods in the winter" is the greatest opening line to a novel or memoir I have ever heard or or imagined. What stories YOU must have to tell. I very much want to thank you for this comment, Sarah. It's really touching and sweet.
I keep convincing myself that there is nothing so unique in my story that there is any value in recording it. This may be the push I need to overcome my own self doubt. Thank you.
Really great read, John! I also met many famous people when I was Asso
ciate Producer of tv talk show ("Southern Exposure with Bill Boggs") in the early-mid 70s. One thing meeting them helped me understand was that as famous as they were, they were still just people...and it gave me courage to pursue an acting/film producing career in LA after that, which I might not have had the vision or chutzpah to do otherwise. Maybe it did the same for you?
Buffy! Did you get that message I sent you awhile back, about having read Moonshiner's Daughter again, carefully, and wanting you to know how much I appreciated what you did there? If not, that's the gist of what I wrote you! So happy to hear from you. Thanks for the love for this mini-memoir thing of mine.
I appreciate your sharing how meeting famous people made you go, "Oh, they're just people. Onward, me!" Honestly, that's just never a response I've had to meeting famous people. I have no idea why. Well, for the famous people I met in THIS piece, I was . . . well, I was gonna say 10 (for Watts), but I was 16 or 17 when I met Kunstler.
I've been kind of thinking all day about what you've asked me here. I can't think, really, of WHY I have never responded to meeting a famous person the way you did. I think I just never CARED that much about whatever anyone else has done.
Okay, you know what it really is? I've always been extremely aware of the fact that every moment anyone is doing anything to become more famous or accomplished or successful or even wealthy is a moment they didn't spend doing anything more worthwhile. You know what I mean? I've always understood that becoming famous takes serious TIME. It's a CHOICE just about anyone can make. So I was always just, like, "Oh, here's someone with a lot of charisma who has spent an insane amount of time trying to be famous. And they made it! THEY'LL never feel like they made it, because fame is the worst, most addictive drug in the world, and you always want more. But still! Cool haircut!"
No, but, I don't mean that I don't RESPECT people who, you know, have made the most of their opportunities and career. I really do. I just go, in my head, like, "Oh, you wrote a book that went huge. Oh, you are a great singer and performer." Those are things those people DID, but I know, know, know it's got shit to do withe who they are. And who you actually ARE is the only thing that can ever possibly matter in this world. And I just can't ever remember not being aware of that. Kids ARE aware of that, seems to me. When you're a kid, you KNOW the kind of adult you're dealing with. You don't care what they've done in the big world out there. You just want to know if they're honest, basically. That's all you care about, because what the fuck else matters? I just never . . . grew up, basically. Which is not exactly a news shock for anyone who knows me, but we'll just let that go for now.
Anyway, you rock. When are you going to write a memoir--or even just individual pieces?-- about your time in the whole showbiz world???
You know what? That sounded kind of dickish of me. I don't want to act like I don't get star-struck, the same as anyone. I do! Whenever I see someone I've only ever seen in the movies or on TV, my brain kind of breaks, and I think, "Wait, am I at home watching TV right now?" I only meant that somehow I've never wanted to BE anyone who's famous. Because I know what it cost them to get there. Anyway. Sorry for this insanely long answer to your very sweet and charming question.
Wonderful story. I lived in Palo Alto (and Menlo Park, I was born in SF) during the 60’s through 2004. Be Here Now was my bible too. I never met Ram Dass but did have a lovely encounter with Timothy Leary at a dear friend’s dinner party, maybe in the 80’s? He was very charming and amusing.
Charming and amusing! I'd love to be either one of those. It's fun to even hear Palo Alto, Menlo Park, SF. My wife and I lived in all three of those places, and got married in SF. Sometimes I really miss California. (We live in North Carolina now.) Anyway, thanks for saying hi!
Ha! That's all I want: for people who are reading my stuff to laugh loud enough to scare their cats. Thanks so much for letting me know that somewhere out there, every so often, I'm achieving my goal.
Thank you Margi. So good to hear from you. I’ve been thinking about your call to create from community a sustainable survivability. And for now I’ll just have to leave it at that. But it’s a pretty fascinating idea—and one that, god knows, is today demanding that we at the very least consider its practical viabilities and implications.
Not sure how I feel about this one. No real criticism…it was fun to read and very relatable to me…I was a 17 yo hippie trippy in 1968 who also ended up in a very pricy private nut hut (mental hospital) that year. Maybe it was partly due to all those hallucinogens I had ingested. So yeah, I have lots of good memories of that time (never experienced a bad trip, thank the gods) but it was also a very tricky time for a 17 yo white middle class white girl who was mentally ill (still am by the way) and lgbtq+. I love to name drop about the music, there were two small venues in Philly at that time, The Electric Factory and The Trauma. I never got to meet any of the cool people I saw back then but at The Trauma I got to see Lou Reed solo. At the Electric Factory I got to see The Who (before fame), Jimi Hendrix (before fame), The Moody Blues (Nights in White Satin had just been released), Steppenwolf (Born to be Wild had just been released), Iron Butterfly (In a Godda Da Vida had just been released), and some other bands who did not make the same cultural impact. Yeah, I’m an old white lady who also likes to name drop…so sue me.
God, this was a fun read. I was able to picture each Young John Cracking Up A Legend scene vividly. And, as a card-carrying whipped cream enthusiast myself, I would very much like to try an egg cream.
(And with all the love in the world, stop using AI art, I beg of ya. It's not worth the water waste, and your words are effective image generators enough <3)
Thanks for this, Caitlin. I STILL haven't had an egg cream. But it's cool; I like to keep my bucket list down to things I have at least a CHANCE of doing before I die.
AI art! I mean, I'm okay with it sometimes. Like, for the post I did before this, about Snicklefritz, there is no image that's going to kind of capture that piece--except a cat wearing a napkin bib sitting in a booth at a diner. And there's no way I can get that any other way. Do I'm okay with it then. Or (in this piece) Superman as a security guard. Again, I'll never get that image any other way. And I really needed a visual break right there, especially one I could immediately juxtapose with the one of Kunstler at the rally. So, again, in that case, I'm more than okay with it.
I spent about seven years writing a blog that was kind of insanely popular. I worked on it about six hours a day. Literally HALF the time I spent writing each post I spent searching for an image to go with it. And once I DID finally find one that was rights-free, I had to resize it, clean it up, etc. Getting images was just an incredible time suck. And these days it's even. HARDER to find a good usable image for a blog post.
Aesthetically, I'm not a big fan of way these AI images look: I don't much like their whole . . . glossy thing. But for convenience, and for the specificity you can get for exactly the image you want, it's unbeatable. So . . . you know. Like anything, you take the good with the bad.
Anyway, thanks again for reading this, and for taking the time to respond in such a fun and thoughtful way to it.
When I read your very kind comment, BJW, I tried to think of any other cool people I've encountered. I think my personal Coolest Famous Person I Ever Met story would have to be the time I smoked a joint with Kris Kristofferson. I mean . . . I was, like, "I'm never going to finish off this roach; I'm gonna keep it forever." I didn't, of course, because, you know, weed. BUT it was a very cool experience. I guess. I was stoned when it happened. Still, I was a HUGE fan of KK's 1971 album, "The Silver Tongued Devil and I," so I was mucho glad to spend a few minutes with the man himself IN A BATHROOM sharing a joint.
When I was a teenager, I lived close to Dayton, Ohio. And every year they did the Kenley Plays (or players) and had plays in the Memorial Hall. I ushered for one season and met Dyan Cannon! Who was somebody, but when I got an autograph she seemed unhappy to be there. Oh well.
Ha! It can be hard to distinguish between angry and sultry. I always have that trouble when I watch fashion a fashion model doing that model walk down a runway: Is she being sultry or angry? But . . . of course it’s not easy when you’ve been a big star for awhile to then be doing, like, regional dinner theater or that sort of thing. I mean, obviously. Ugh. Fame.
They did Cabaret with Joel Grey, and it was magical. I did enjoy musicals and plays. I was lucky that I got to play in the pit orchestra for high school and college musicals.
Well, thanks for this, Claire; I really do appreciate your taking the time to let me know that this lifted your mood. That's pretty much all anyone (or anyone who's me, anyway) wants out of a piece like this. Lovely of you to let me know it worked!
This is one of those holy-gosharootie what? you? stories that you have an enchanting knack for telling, John. Wow! Hey, folks, read this one. It's great!
Damn, John! I thought you’d died up there. It’s been ages and then you hit us with this gem. Who knew? You really did rub elbows, toes or some other anatomical part with some doozies. And yes, I’m old enough to have recognized every name and group you’ve written about. I even have a famous person encounter who crossed your path as well; Adam Clayton Powell. How ‘bout that? Not bad for a little old mountain girl. You being from that part of Cali though, I can understand how your parents might have encountered some of the most illustrious of the time and as sharp as you are, you must have had an above average gene pool for your zygote to draw from. Your folks must have been quite a pair-until they weren’t. I’m going to have to go back and reread your book now in light of all this new information.
At any rate, this has been a fun read. You didn’t mention it but I’m assuming you’re still at Home Depot? Naturally, I’ve been keeping up with Aville and the recovery effort in the entire area. My heart is still broken just knowing what people are having to face each day. My oldest was there the other day, is in Charleston now with sibs but will be back there in a few days for a Dad visit. He’ll give me a full report, I’m sure. Take care and don’t be a stranger.
My most famous person story is having dinner with Tim Sample and his family because my mother was collaborating to make cards with him.
To me, I was happy to have a meal in a regular house with electricity and everything and kept real quiet hoping no one noticed I didn’t belong.
I was born in 1974. When and where in 1974 are lost to mystery and history. I must content myself with “somewhere in the woods in the winter” but that is another story for another time.
I love this story. I wish I had money to subscribe. I don’t even have the money to go to Denny’s these days. Thank you for sharing.
"I was born somewhere in the woods in the winter" is the greatest opening line to a novel or memoir I have ever heard or or imagined. What stories YOU must have to tell. I very much want to thank you for this comment, Sarah. It's really touching and sweet.
I keep convincing myself that there is nothing so unique in my story that there is any value in recording it. This may be the push I need to overcome my own self doubt. Thank you.
This comment of yours, Sarah, made me write this: https://substack.com/@johnshore/note/c-86896439
Really great read, John! I also met many famous people when I was Asso
ciate Producer of tv talk show ("Southern Exposure with Bill Boggs") in the early-mid 70s. One thing meeting them helped me understand was that as famous as they were, they were still just people...and it gave me courage to pursue an acting/film producing career in LA after that, which I might not have had the vision or chutzpah to do otherwise. Maybe it did the same for you?
Buffy! Did you get that message I sent you awhile back, about having read Moonshiner's Daughter again, carefully, and wanting you to know how much I appreciated what you did there? If not, that's the gist of what I wrote you! So happy to hear from you. Thanks for the love for this mini-memoir thing of mine.
I appreciate your sharing how meeting famous people made you go, "Oh, they're just people. Onward, me!" Honestly, that's just never a response I've had to meeting famous people. I have no idea why. Well, for the famous people I met in THIS piece, I was . . . well, I was gonna say 10 (for Watts), but I was 16 or 17 when I met Kunstler.
I've been kind of thinking all day about what you've asked me here. I can't think, really, of WHY I have never responded to meeting a famous person the way you did. I think I just never CARED that much about whatever anyone else has done.
Okay, you know what it really is? I've always been extremely aware of the fact that every moment anyone is doing anything to become more famous or accomplished or successful or even wealthy is a moment they didn't spend doing anything more worthwhile. You know what I mean? I've always understood that becoming famous takes serious TIME. It's a CHOICE just about anyone can make. So I was always just, like, "Oh, here's someone with a lot of charisma who has spent an insane amount of time trying to be famous. And they made it! THEY'LL never feel like they made it, because fame is the worst, most addictive drug in the world, and you always want more. But still! Cool haircut!"
No, but, I don't mean that I don't RESPECT people who, you know, have made the most of their opportunities and career. I really do. I just go, in my head, like, "Oh, you wrote a book that went huge. Oh, you are a great singer and performer." Those are things those people DID, but I know, know, know it's got shit to do withe who they are. And who you actually ARE is the only thing that can ever possibly matter in this world. And I just can't ever remember not being aware of that. Kids ARE aware of that, seems to me. When you're a kid, you KNOW the kind of adult you're dealing with. You don't care what they've done in the big world out there. You just want to know if they're honest, basically. That's all you care about, because what the fuck else matters? I just never . . . grew up, basically. Which is not exactly a news shock for anyone who knows me, but we'll just let that go for now.
Anyway, you rock. When are you going to write a memoir--or even just individual pieces?-- about your time in the whole showbiz world???
You know what? That sounded kind of dickish of me. I don't want to act like I don't get star-struck, the same as anyone. I do! Whenever I see someone I've only ever seen in the movies or on TV, my brain kind of breaks, and I think, "Wait, am I at home watching TV right now?" I only meant that somehow I've never wanted to BE anyone who's famous. Because I know what it cost them to get there. Anyway. Sorry for this insanely long answer to your very sweet and charming question.
I’m old enough to get all the humor. Loved this. Write more!
Wonderful story. I lived in Palo Alto (and Menlo Park, I was born in SF) during the 60’s through 2004. Be Here Now was my bible too. I never met Ram Dass but did have a lovely encounter with Timothy Leary at a dear friend’s dinner party, maybe in the 80’s? He was very charming and amusing.
Charming and amusing! I'd love to be either one of those. It's fun to even hear Palo Alto, Menlo Park, SF. My wife and I lived in all three of those places, and got married in SF. Sometimes I really miss California. (We live in North Carolina now.) Anyway, thanks for saying hi!
Fabulous. And I laughed loud enough to scare the cat.
Ha! That's all I want: for people who are reading my stuff to laugh loud enough to scare their cats. Thanks so much for letting me know that somewhere out there, every so often, I'm achieving my goal.
Magnificent. Glad to have you back! Another deep belly laugh. Thank you. That's quite a childhood. Your mom's circle was amazing!
Thank you Margi. So good to hear from you. I’ve been thinking about your call to create from community a sustainable survivability. And for now I’ll just have to leave it at that. But it’s a pretty fascinating idea—and one that, god knows, is today demanding that we at the very least consider its practical viabilities and implications.
Not sure how I feel about this one. No real criticism…it was fun to read and very relatable to me…I was a 17 yo hippie trippy in 1968 who also ended up in a very pricy private nut hut (mental hospital) that year. Maybe it was partly due to all those hallucinogens I had ingested. So yeah, I have lots of good memories of that time (never experienced a bad trip, thank the gods) but it was also a very tricky time for a 17 yo white middle class white girl who was mentally ill (still am by the way) and lgbtq+. I love to name drop about the music, there were two small venues in Philly at that time, The Electric Factory and The Trauma. I never got to meet any of the cool people I saw back then but at The Trauma I got to see Lou Reed solo. At the Electric Factory I got to see The Who (before fame), Jimi Hendrix (before fame), The Moody Blues (Nights in White Satin had just been released), Steppenwolf (Born to be Wild had just been released), Iron Butterfly (In a Godda Da Vida had just been released), and some other bands who did not make the same cultural impact. Yeah, I’m an old white lady who also likes to name drop…so sue me.
God, this was a fun read. I was able to picture each Young John Cracking Up A Legend scene vividly. And, as a card-carrying whipped cream enthusiast myself, I would very much like to try an egg cream.
(And with all the love in the world, stop using AI art, I beg of ya. It's not worth the water waste, and your words are effective image generators enough <3)
Thanks for this, Caitlin. I STILL haven't had an egg cream. But it's cool; I like to keep my bucket list down to things I have at least a CHANCE of doing before I die.
AI art! I mean, I'm okay with it sometimes. Like, for the post I did before this, about Snicklefritz, there is no image that's going to kind of capture that piece--except a cat wearing a napkin bib sitting in a booth at a diner. And there's no way I can get that any other way. Do I'm okay with it then. Or (in this piece) Superman as a security guard. Again, I'll never get that image any other way. And I really needed a visual break right there, especially one I could immediately juxtapose with the one of Kunstler at the rally. So, again, in that case, I'm more than okay with it.
I spent about seven years writing a blog that was kind of insanely popular. I worked on it about six hours a day. Literally HALF the time I spent writing each post I spent searching for an image to go with it. And once I DID finally find one that was rights-free, I had to resize it, clean it up, etc. Getting images was just an incredible time suck. And these days it's even. HARDER to find a good usable image for a blog post.
Aesthetically, I'm not a big fan of way these AI images look: I don't much like their whole . . . glossy thing. But for convenience, and for the specificity you can get for exactly the image you want, it's unbeatable. So . . . you know. Like anything, you take the good with the bad.
Anyway, thanks again for reading this, and for taking the time to respond in such a fun and thoughtful way to it.
This was great! You've met so many cool people.
When I read your very kind comment, BJW, I tried to think of any other cool people I've encountered. I think my personal Coolest Famous Person I Ever Met story would have to be the time I smoked a joint with Kris Kristofferson. I mean . . . I was, like, "I'm never going to finish off this roach; I'm gonna keep it forever." I didn't, of course, because, you know, weed. BUT it was a very cool experience. I guess. I was stoned when it happened. Still, I was a HUGE fan of KK's 1971 album, "The Silver Tongued Devil and I," so I was mucho glad to spend a few minutes with the man himself IN A BATHROOM sharing a joint.
When I was a teenager, I lived close to Dayton, Ohio. And every year they did the Kenley Plays (or players) and had plays in the Memorial Hall. I ushered for one season and met Dyan Cannon! Who was somebody, but when I got an autograph she seemed unhappy to be there. Oh well.
Oh no! I wonder why she was unhappy to be there?
I'm thinking that for that one matinee, she was unhappy the crowd was small. Or maybe she was just being sultry?
Ha! It can be hard to distinguish between angry and sultry. I always have that trouble when I watch fashion a fashion model doing that model walk down a runway: Is she being sultry or angry? But . . . of course it’s not easy when you’ve been a big star for awhile to then be doing, like, regional dinner theater or that sort of thing. I mean, obviously. Ugh. Fame.
They did Cabaret with Joel Grey, and it was magical. I did enjoy musicals and plays. I was lucky that I got to play in the pit orchestra for high school and college musicals.
Good thing I wasn't eating anything while I read this, or you would have another laugh-related homicide on your hands!
Ha! YOU almost had one right there! So good to hear from you, as always, Jendi.
Thank you! I needed that mood lifter!
Well, thanks for this, Claire; I really do appreciate your taking the time to let me know that this lifted your mood. That's pretty much all anyone (or anyone who's me, anyway) wants out of a piece like this. Lovely of you to let me know it worked!
This is one of those holy-gosharootie what? you? stories that you have an enchanting knack for telling, John. Wow! Hey, folks, read this one. It's great!
Thank you Paul! Extremely kind of you.