Conversations With Rock Stars

I hoped to catch you in the street

Late July, 1972

I had been back and forth between England and the States for the past year. During that time my younger sister had gotten married, I had moved to a nicer apartment, and my grandfather had died. It had been a big year, full of ups and downs. My writing had improved and I was promoted. Now, I didn't have to pay to travel everywhere for my stories.

August 1972

I joined the small crew outside on the airfield and watched as the plane descended to the ground. The marshaller directed it in and the plane came to a halt in front of us. In a few minutes the Faces climbed out. Rod and Woody emerged wearing matching leather jackets. The band was full of booze and ready to have a grand time.

I rode with them to the Hollywood Bowl the next day for their scheduled performance and hung out with them backstage before they went on. Laneole and Woody proudly displayed their new custom Zemaitis guitars. I ran my hand over Woody's bejeweled mosaic guitar, admiring how beautiful it was. The show was great and I was very amused by the boys and their antics when they came backstage for a break.

•••

April 5th, 1973

The launch party for the Faces Ooh La La album was held at the Tramp Nightclub in London. That evening I got dressed in my floral denim bell bottoms (a friend had embroidered flowers in the back pockets), a white blouse, and boots. I gathered my things and hitched a ride to the nightclub. I went in through the back door and followed the sound of talking and laughter to the front. I found myself amongst other journalists and their accompanying photographers. The band was seated on the floor surrounded by can-can girls in frilly dresses. The boys all had some form of drink or smoke in their hands. Any questions that they were asked were met with sarcastic replies.

After the pictures and questions they went on to party. There was a great wheel of a cake in the center of the table and I was able to catch a picture of the bands around it, celebrating the album launch.
"Beverly," Woody said, sauntering over to me. "So glad you dropped by." I laughed a bit as he draped his arm around me and downed the last of his drink. An enormous belch escaped him, reeking of port. "I'm gonna get another," he said, waggling his eyebrows. He shouted something incoherent as he walked away, in search of booze. I glanced over and saw Rod sitting at the table, elegantly holding his glass. His attention was on a blonde haired gal who was talking to Mac and Kenney. I snapped a picture of him. He noticed me, grinned, and beckoned for me to come sit with him.