• I've never been west of Charleston, West Virginia.


• I've never acted in a movie, play, or any other kind of production.


• I have never even seen a play that didn't involve school-age actors.

• I have seen a number of movies produced by big-time Hollywood studios.


• I have met one celebrity.


• I have heard of a number of celebrities.

Behind The Music:
He's My Biggest Fan

Don Henley is the rock star's rock star. He first achieved fame as a member of The Eagles, easily the most popular pop-rock band to emerge from southern California in the early '70's. The secret to the band's success was that the group was made up of musicians who were each capable of superstar status as solo acts. The original line-up of The Eagles included such consummate rockers as Glen Frey, Timothy B. Schmidt, Joe Walsh, Jackson Browne, Linda Ronstadt, Ted Nugent, Charo, George Lucas, Hank Aaron, Spiro Agnew, The Mormon Tabernacle Choir, Shari Lewis and Lambchop. There was no way that they could fail.

By the early 80's, The Eagles were growing weary from years of stress and overindulgence. Life on the road and in the studio had taken it's toll. For years, the band had hit after hit, thanks to the Glen Frey/Don Henley songwriting formula. Now, the two songwriters had grown so distant that Frey reportedly learned Mandarin Chinese and spoke it at all times in order to necessitate the use of an interpreter when he and Henley would write songs together. And the band had another problem: Cocaine. They simply couldn't find any, and when they did, Joe Walsh always snorted it all up by himself and didn't share any with the rest of the band. Henley had had enough.

Don Henley's solo career began with the release of I Can't Stand Still, a hit album with a hit single, Dirty Laundry. Another album, Building the Perfect Beast followed, along with hits such as The Boys Of Summer and All She Wants To Do Is Dance. However, by the early '90's, Henley's career was waning. Bands like R.E.M. and Pearl Jam had claimed the music scene and made it their own. Was there still room for a Don Henley in a world full of Kurt Cobains? What were these new, successful bands doing that Henley wasn't doing?

After a lot of thought and creative self-evaluation, Henley realized that if he was going to recapture the marketplace that he'd lost to rock's new breed, he'd have to do what they were doing. And what were they doing? Why, they were saving the world.

The rock bands of the early '90's had one thing in common: Hand-wringing. They wrung their hands about minority rights. They wrung their hands about the homeless. They wrung their hands about corporate America... but, mostly, they wrung their hands about the environment. They wrote songs about how the big, bad, terrible human race was messing up good ol' planet Earth and how nobody seemed to give a damn except for the rock stars themselves. After all, they needed good ol' planet Earth to be healthy and prosperous in order for it to continue to produce marijuana.

Henley decided to cash in on the hand-wringing... but, to his credit, he one-upped the new rockers. Henley didn't do just one song about the environment... he didn't do just one album.... no, Henley did a book! Don Henley decided to put together a whole big book, with words and pictures and everything, called Heaven Is Under Our Feet. That'll show 'em, right? I mean, anybody can write a song about whales and whatnot... but doing a book? Come on! To do a book, you gotta be really serious about the environment.

Of course, doing a book means writing a whole big bunch of pages. Maybe ten. Maybe even more. How would Henley ever get enough pages together to justify putting them between two covers? Another brilliant idea hit him. He'd have all of his celebrity friends write essays about how much each of them loved the environment. How could they refuse him? To refuse to write an essay about the environment is like refusing to give food to a starving kid, right? And so, as though by providence, Heaven Is Under Our Feet came together, featuring essays from such noted experts on the environment as Cher, Bette Midler, Janet Jackson, etc.

In or around 1992... I can't remember the exact year... Henley made an appearance at a bookstore in Roanoke, Virginia, to sign copies of Heaven Is Under Our Feet.

I'd grown up listening to the Eagles and Henley's solo albums and I jumped at the chance to get to meet him, shake his hand, get his autograph. He was, after all, one of my favorite musicians, song-writers and singers. The only problem was that Henley had his publicity people put the word out that he absolutely, positively, most assuredly would not be signing copies of his albums. Or his posters. Or anything to do with his career as a musician. He would only be willing to sign copies of Heaven is Under Our Feet. You wanna meet Don Henley? You want his autograph? Fine. But you gotta buy his book.

I wanted to meet Don Henley so bad that I bought his book. In fact, I bought two copies so I could get the second one signed and give it to my sister as a birthday present.

I went to the bookstore on the appointed day about six hours before the signing was to begin. I found myself to be the second person in line. Yes! I was actually going to meet Don Henley, get his autograph, and everything.

This story is growing long and tiresome, so I'll try to wrap it up fairly quickly.

Imagine standing in one place behind the same guy for six hours. Imagine about thirty minutes before the celebrity you've come to meet is supposed to show up, a bunch of news people, publicity people, security people, etc, rush in. Imagine the thrill as you get that first glimpseof Mr. Celebrity himself! There he is, walking between two other dudes! Here he comes, toward the table! He's about to sit down and then they're going to let the line file past and I'm going to get to talk to Don Friggin' Henley!

Now, imagine that the first words you hear Mr. Celebrity utter in person are to a member of his entourage, ostensibly a security person, and that those words are "No f**king cameras, no f**cking news crews. I made this f**cking clear, didn't I? Get your sh*t together."

I don't have to imagine any of that. I actually experienced it.

Looking back, I can think of a number of possible first impressions that Don Henley could have made on me. I remember that he looked older than I'd thought he'd be. I remember that he was far shorter than I'd thought he'd be, and that his clothing looked brand new, like he'd only been wearing it for an hour or so. I remember those things in retrospect... but the first impression that Don Henley made on me... the irreversible, life-time first impression that his words and actions left on me forever... was that Don Henley was an arrogant prick.

A few minutes later, as I still stood there feeling a bit stunned, the security people let the line start moving. The guy ahead of me went first, shook Henley's hand, exchanged a couple of words and got an autograph on the inside cover of his book. Then it was my turn. I had two copies of the book to sign, which didn't sit well with Mr. Henley. When I laid my two copies on the table, Don looked at his security guy and said "We said one copy each, right?" I didn't hear the answer. Either way, Henley did sign both copies for me. One for me, written out to my name... and one for my sister, written out to her.

I was flustered. I was tense. I wanted to say something... anything to the first actual real-life celebrity I'd ever met. Two possible phrases came into my head. One was "Don, I've always been one of your biggest fans." The other was "Mr. Henley, you've always been a favorite song-writer of mine." Looking back, I wish I'd said one of those phrases. Only one of those phrases. Unfortunately, what I said was a bit of both of those phrases. The two possible remarks merged together into one in my brain, and what ended up coming out of my mouth was this: "Mr. Don Henley, you've always been one of my biggest fans."

He looked at me with the driest, most humorless smile I've ever seen and said "Of course I have."

Then, Security guy was touching my shoulder, giving me the "move along," so I did just that.

On the way to the car, walking past the line that stretched out of the bookstore, down the street and around the corner, I had one thought and one thought only in my head: Never in a million years will I actually read this book.

I never did. And I don't even know where it is right now. It may have been lost in one of my many moves over the years. I don't know. I don't care.

I still listen to The Eagles and to Henley's solo albums, by the way. I guess the lesson I learned is that the more you enjoy someone's art, the further you should stay away from them.

Permalink -- Posted by Darrell at 07:36