Monday, April 13, 2009

Nobody's Perfect: Phil Spector...No Longer in the Control Booth

Nobody’s Perfect: I was only eighteen when I met Phil Spector. I must admit, I haven’t been following the news on his case too closely…just another famous man with too much money, with his life falling apart…gone mad.

In fact, to me it seems, that if you look at this picture and think back on O.J. Simpson and Robert Blake…they all that that same look on their faces at their trials. That, “I have NO idea how this could be happening to me--- I’m too important.” look.

To me, they all look as if they have had just one too many snorts of cocaine, but then…that’s just an opinion.

As I read the headlines tonight--“Phil Spector: Convicted of Second Degree Murder,” I remember back on that week that I spent with the man. I’m sure he doesn’t remember me at all. In fact, I was in the same room with him for hours at a time…deep into the night…panting…

Wait. No… got cha! (just kidding!)

How did I meet Phil Spector? That’s a good question. You see, right out of high school I had more than the usual case of “I VANT TO SEE THE WORLD! LET ME OUT OF HERE!” disease that as far as I know, the last two people that had had this urgent desire to see the world and all that was in it, were Columbus and Magellan

Too bad I couldn’t have texted them first and got some advise.

But they were men, and I was just a young girl, feeling like I had just got out of prison….and I wanted desperately to go somewhere.

So I hitched a ride with a band, up to New York.

The band was Phil Drisco’s band…a trumpet player who later went on to a bit of fame as a religious guy, but that’s all just trivial. I won’t go into my experiences in New York because it would take a few chapters, just my memories of Phil.

Phil Drisco was recording his first major album with Phil Spector late at night in a studio right off of Broadway. He had to do it at night because Phil was also working with Paul McCartney who was recording RAM with him during the day.

So, I got to go and sit in the controlling booth with Phil Specter, late at night and watch the band record.

I’ll tell you one thing…I was scared of the man. I knew he had “founded” the Supremes sound, and now was working with the great Paul McCartney, and even though I was NOT a musician yet, I knew music. I was in total awe of this...GOD…

But still---he was just plain spooky. Call it woman’s intuition.

Now, it was always dark in the control room, and I sat as far away in the corner away from him as I could. But after a half hour…Mr. Phil Spector would inevitably insist that I come over, sit next to him, and watch him do his thing. Why read my boring books?

Well…what could I say?

So, there I sat. Every night for a week. He would make very small talk. And basically was very, very sweet, he treated me almost as a daughter.

But still, I thought it very odd that I had to sit next to him while he turned knobs.

He was thoughtful and kind, but…I don’t know…there was just something I couldn’t put my finger on.

You might find this sad…but I thought he looked on me as a “child.” How could he possibly have any sexual interest in me at all because well, he was so much older and famous?

Today I read that the girl that he picked up(Lana Clarkson) and took home, was reportedly dead just a few hours later…

And when he said, “I think I shot somebody.” Well, I can see it---like I said…spooky.

Life is funny like that. What if you had met Ted Bundy, had a drink with him for a week, and thought he was nice…but spooky…you know? What makes these people “snap?”

I guess looking back, I was lucky that I was so innocent. If he would have even made a tiny suggestion of indiscretion, I would have…run. I KNOW he knew I was that innocent. I also didn’t consider myself desirable…after all, he had known the most beautiful women in the world, once again..why would he desire me?

So, there I sat, scared to death, night after night…feeling pretty stupid. Somehow, I think that that man was scared to death of being alone. He just had to have a girl…there. Being alone in that control room was just too much for him to bear.

It might be just that simple.

Years ago, I read that he kept another woman locked up in his “mansion” for years…much like a prisoner.

So, he lost it. Did he murder that woman? Who knows? Probably, because he basically admitted it.

We see famous movie stars freaking out all the time.

Some just cut their hair.

Well there you go. I bet there is more than one woman in the world tonight thinking…whoa, that could have been me.

Phil Spector…a musical genius…but…not perfect.



Blogger Kathy said...

kinderedspirits? I also left home at an earlier age (even younger than you)to "see the world", spurned on by some gut feeling that I was missing something. I wanted to know everything, I wanted to find the answers to questions that I had and everyone but me seemed to have the answers to. And like you, the biggest question I have today is why I'm still alive. Statistics say I should be dead from a brutal murder or drug overdose. I also, like you, atribute my success (if success can be defined as staying alive, and remaining somwhat positive) to my gut feelings. That 'tingling' feeling that something is not right. I used that as my guide, and though I may have passed up good ofers of help, I came out the other side. I am amazed at how many people don't use that feeling to judge, perfering instead to judge with the eyes, which will mislead you more often than not. Perhaps this is how Obama was elected. He looks good, and speaks great...but that little tingle (not running up my leg) tells me that he is totaly false. Maybe one has to hone the art of reading the gut feelings, when needed for survival. At any this end we share much of the same likes..esp the love of anglefood cake. I am just setting up my blog, so it will be awhile before it is ready for public viewing. I look forward to sharing ideas and comments with you.


1:21 PM  

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