Monday, Monday

Once again I have been remiss in keeping up with the blog. I suppose most of you think I've been basking in the glamor of my impending book release...doing interviews...hanging with the Hollywood legends...turning down lunch invitations...lounging by the pool...drinking margaritas...

...if only.

I was remiss in keeping up with the blog because I was labeling, stamping, stuffing, sorting and bundling 1700+ envelopes with Everybody I Shot Is Dead brochures. What a freaking nightmare! The mailing went out to independent bookstores and record stores throughout the U.S. to let them know about the book and that it is available to order from my wholesalers. It sounded easy enough before I/we (I had a part time helper) started. I mean, how hard could a 1700+ mailing be? I took a two-hour required class at the post office to learn the ins and outs of doing a bulk mailing...and as it turned out, sorting the envelopes to meet the requirements that saved 46¢ on each piece mailed was the easy part. It was the sticking of the address labels, return address labels, stamps, inserting the brochures, removing the flap backing and sealing the envelopes that was the bitch.

I managed to get to the point where I could return label and stamp 30 envelopes in 4 minutes. That would have been about 4 and a half hours of work (well, quadruple that to include addressing and stuffing) for the whole shebang providing I could keep up that pace. Which I couldn't. Unless I wanted to develop a severe case of carpel tunnel. Anyway, the job seemed to go on forever and I was never so happy as when I dropped the final 12 sacks of envelopes off at the post office. Hopefully, enough stores will order and sell enough books to make the whole exercise worthwhile.

Alright. Enough about that...it's over...forgotten...and not what this post was meant to be about. This post is about tomorrow. MONDAY. I believe I have written about Mondays in the past. Mainly about how I don't like Mondays. How I never seem to get positive results to anything I try to do on Mondays. Anything that requires dealing with other people. I believe it's because everyone hates Mondays. Maybe because it's the beginning of another whole 5 days of work (which is meaningless to me since I generally work all seven). Or maybe because people have trouble shaking the residue of the weekend (which is meaningless to me since I am rarely bestowed with weekend residue). Or maybe their football team lost, setting a negative mood for the start of the work week (okay, I do watch a little college football but since I didn't graduate from college I don't have a team). Whatever the reason, several months back I decided never to schedule important things on Mondays. I never set important meetings on Mondays and I never make important phone calls where I am in need of a favorable response on Mondays. I just don't do it. Why take the chance?

Any of you ever hear the phrase "never say never"?

There is something important scheduled for tomorrow - MONDAY - that I had no say in scheduling. Something I cannot change. It has to happen tomorrow. Nothing I can do about it. Except HOPE. And I am hoping. Hoping beyond all hope that this particular something won't fall into the Monday Negative Abyss where all things go wrong category. Where I am denied what I want only because I wanted it on the day called Monday.

This Monday...September 24th, 2007...is the day I am receiving the advance copies of Everybody I Shot Is Dead. The actual printed and bound copies sent directly from the printer in China. Tomorrow - MONDAY - is the first time I will gaze upon, touch and turn the pages of an actual finished copy of the book that has been two years in the making. And I have to look at it and approve it so they will ship the rest of the 9,950 books on the hopefully-not-so-slow boat from China. Why couldn't they have sent it out Thursday so that it could have arrived on the beautiful day known as Friday? Why does it have to come on MONDAY? Why? Why? Why?

Wait a second. Nevermind. It's all going to work out. I got it. Since I haven't heard directly from any of the 48 musicians in my book lately, I have to assume they have been in China these past two months overseeing the printing and making sure the book turned out perfect. That makes sense, right? And then they all flew back on the FedEx plane with the books and are now on the FedEx truck hovering around the six or so cases, making sure they arrive safely on my doorstep...fighting the evil Monday goblins all the way. Right? This is excellent. I'm fine now.

The book will be perfect.

The book will be perfect.

The book will be perfect.

Legends

Edit: 9/18/07

Okay...Julie Newmar, Jack Klugman and Rose Marie have been identified.

I know I said you didn't have to name Alison (the blonde in the print dress) but I changed my mind. 'Cause she's actually pretty famous too. You have her first name already. And I'll give you one more hint: think long running television series that began in 1974.

And if you can come up with what these four legends and I all have in common, you'll get extra brownie points. Hint: The event was a book signing for Jack Klugman's book, "Tony and Me."

As soon as someone names the legends in this picture I will tell you the story behind it:

Now I gotta go be on the radio.

Back On The Radio

This coming Tuesday night/Wednesday morning I will be interviewed on Holder Tonight which broadcasts from Montreal on CJAD and CFRB in Toronto.

But thanks to modern technology, EVERYBODY GETS TO LISTEN online here.

The show airs midnight - 3AM EST.

I will be on at 1:30AM EST. Which for my neighbors here in California is the more civilized 10:30PM PST.

But I really hope my East Coast readers will go the distance and stay up.

The show's host, Peter Anthony Holder, does do call-ins on his show but I'm not sure if he's taking calls with me. I'd love it if he would because it would be so cool to hear the voices of my blog readers!

But even if they don't take calls, please tune in.

'Cause there will be a quiz the following day.

Surprise, Surprise, Surprise...

A USA Today headline:

Not just cliche: Rock stars more likely to die young

It's true. And there's a UK research study that has the scientific research to prove it.

You can read the layman's version at any one of these million google links.

If you want to check out the actual research paper you can download it here.

Me? Well, I immediately emailed my publicist to see how we can parlay this widespread news into publicity for Everybody I Shot Is Dead. I also emailed the main author of the paper to let him know that I'm pretty sure my book will confirm his findings...but with pictures and stories instead of charts and graphs.

Now I am sitting here wishing this story broke closer to the release of my book, but also hoping the news of my book will cast as wide of a net.

I'm doing all the work necessary toward that end.

And crossing my fingers, just in case.

In The Jungle Known As Amazon

Look what they've done to my book:

37% off the already reasonably low retail price. And you can even qualify for free shipping. Those evil bastards. Don't they realize my book is worth so much more?

Okay. I'm kidding. As those of you who read this little blog regularly already know, I knew they were going to do this. That's why I priced the book at $60 instead of my original idea of $50-55. That's also why I offered the even lower price briefly on my website. Sure, I didn't give you free shipping (Amazon is far richer than I, unless I win the $330M megalotto tonight and the $93M superlotto tomorrow) but the books from Amazon are not signed by moi. That's gotta be worth something, right?

So, for those of you who want the book but don't want to shell out the extra $s for my autograph, run (don't walk) over to Amazon. and put in your order for several copies. And those who purchased off my site, feel free to complete your Christmas shopping early HERE.

Popping My Ebay Cherry

That's right, folks. I am no longer an Ebay virgin.

The foreplay started last Saturday when I got it in my head that I should replace all the lost/stolen camera equipment that I had when I shot all the photos in Everybody I Shot Is Dead. Yup. I'm either really sentimental (affirmative) or completely crazy (the jury's still out on that one). And the nutty reason I'm hell-bent on re-buying my original cameras is because I want to shoot concerts again and I want the pictures to be as good as the ones I shot way back when. Okay, the jury's back in... that's an affirmative on the completely crazy part.

Anyway, imagine my shock and delight when I found many vintage Pentax cameras available on Ebay. And I found one - a Spotmatic II - that matched one of my cameras, including several lens. Even though it wasn't closing for several days, I bid on it. It was the one I really wanted. In the meantime, there was an awesome-looking 200 mm telephoto lens that I wanted. I bid on that one but finally chickened out near the end as the price went a little higher than I wanted to pay, especially since I didn't even have a camera yet.

Then I bid on another camera and on Sunday, Aug 26, 2007 at 18:51:23 PDT I won it for a whopping (note intense sarcasm here) $51.00. Meet my new camera:


Notice the small dent on the left side of the lens ring? I swear to God one of my original cameras had that exact dent on the same lens.

Since Sunday, I've been an Ebay whore. Watching and bidding on some camera equipment and kicking as many others to the curb. All the while waiting for my first love to arrive. My very first bid. The one that I placed a maximum bid on last Saturday of $100. Fast forward to this afternoon... Aug-30-07 15:39:22 PDT to be exact... I was suddenly outbid bid by $5... then $10 with nearly 4 hours still left on the bidding. Was I going to lose my first love? The same camera I used to capture my sweet dead musicians in their glory days.? The musicians that I have lived with 24/7 for the past two years? Oh, the horror of it.

Not wanting to look desperate (in the world of rock'n'roll desperate girls are very unattractive), I slyly waited until 18:58:48 PDT (note that's over 3 hours of feigning non-desperation) to up my maximum bid to $120. A bid which held all of 6 minutes when I decided I better raise my maximum to $175. Not looking good with nearly 20 minutes left. These two last minute snakes in the grass were nipping at my ankles and seemed prepared to take me down. At 19:11:03 PDT, my bid hit my maximum so I quickly upped it $200. No way was I going to let those piranhas near my first love.

At this point I kept my browser open and refreshed the page every minute or two. YES!! My $175 bid was holding. The two poisonous snakes had slithered away. The clock ticked down. And down. Only two minutes to go. I was home free. Surely I would win my first Ebay love. I refreshed the page once more...

What the fuck? Who the hell is Glittergrl123? And why did she just bid $179.91 at 19:24:43 PDT, a mere 23 seconds before the close... refresh... Oh My God she upped it to $191.09 sixteen seconds later. Fuck, she's going to beat my $200 bid. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I scramble to add another $2o to my max bid. Did I make it in time? The seconds tick down. I have no idea what just happened. I hit the refresh button one more time. Dammit, I'm going to hunt Glittergrl123 down and punch her in the face. How dare she come in at the last minute and tear my first love right out of my arms. Fuck her!

Wait... wait a second... the window refreshed. The winning bid was $193.59. Posted 9 seconds before the close. I won... what?... Holy shit... I WON!!!

Here is my first Ebay love with whom I shall live happily ever after, complete with all that extra stuff, exactly as it was way back when:





Go ahead. Call me crazy. I couldn't care less.

Blog Slacker

Sorry for my blatant blog slackerness. It's not intentional. Nor is it due to the fact that I have nothing to say. I have plenty to say. But with the blog thing it has a lot to do with headspace and feel. I have been working on a very special post for the past few days. Don't know why it's taking me so long. It just has. And I also have a lot of things that are inches away from disclosing but not quite there yet.

In the meantime, I am not dead. Although I could be. Maybe I should check the obits. What I have been doing is a bunch of business-type stuff. Getting my distribution in order. Fixing all the glitches with my wholesaler. Ordering the 1900 bookstore mailing list from the ABA (American Booksellers Association) so I can send out a brochure to all the independent bookstores so they will know to order the book. Looking for galleries.

And then of course, today was Monday. I don't like Mondays. Have I mentioned that before? No matter how prepared I am for the day, it is always my worst day to do outside-of-my-own-brain-business. After last Monday (not that anything specifically tragic happened that day), I decided I will not make any calls of consequence on Mondays because they never work out in my favor. I don't know if it's me or the rest of the people in the world but I have to assume it's them because I've tried to get stuff done on the Mondays where I feel on top of the world but the result is always the same.

So, Monday is now my day to take care of my personal shit. And my current personal project is moving. Well, I'm not actually moving...it just feels like it. I am currently completely switching up two rooms in my house. I've temporarily moved my bedroom to my second office/guest room and the second office is moving to what was my bedroom and will be just an office. I've got one family member who is moving to New York on Wednesday and freeing up the master suite at the back of the house. Once I redo the bathroom and the flooring in that room, I will move myself back there and my new temporary bedroom will become my full time guest room.

I really need the second dedicated office because I am going to hire an assistant in the next few weeks. And I also have to empty my garage in preparation for receiving a portion of the book shipment. A lot of what's in the garage will be going in the second office. Confused? I am. But I can't wait until I am completely organized. I am so sick of spending/wasting time looking for things. Soon it will be "a place for everything and everything in its place."

My Dad

This post should have been written on August 18th so let's just pretend for a moment that today is Saturday. Wouldn't you like to have the weekend back?


Meet my dad. Cecil Chesher. He looks rather presidential, don't you think? And he was a president at least two times that I know of... when I was a baby he was president of the Calgary Stampeders (that's a professional football team in Canada for those of you scratching your heads), and he was president of his own company.

He was born in the very small town of Petrolia, Ontario and was an only child. His parents, George and Arlie, were of modest means. I never met my grandfather but Arlie was a fixture in our house throughout my childhood. She would arrive from Eastern Canada in early October for Christmas and would sometimes stay until Easter. I didn't mind. She made the best homemade bread and cinnamon buns in the Universe. She also taught us to play canasta and told really good stories.

My dad graduated from the University of Toronto with a degree in geological engineering when he was only eighteen. Yes, he was some sort of genius. He also had a knack of knowing where to drill for oil. While working for Shell he found the Jumping Pound Creek wells, which was a pretty big thing at the time (many, many years before I landed on the planet) and has even written up in a book or two. Whoa... I just came across this poster online at the Petroleum History Society that mentions my dad's accomplishments with regards to that find.


Wow, he would have only been in his early twenties when he accomplished that little feat and many years away from even meeting my mother. You can click on the poster if you want read the science-speak that my brain cells can't decipher.

He later started his own oil company and was also on the board of directors of an oil company based in Southern California. Thanks to that, I got my first taste of California as a kid. But you'll read a little more about that in my book so I won't spoil it for you here. My dad was also one of the founders of The Petroleum Club in Calgary. It was an upscale private club aimed at members of the oil community. I remember going there for dinner as a kid - getting all dressed up and feeling like we were dining with the Queen. They always had a jazz band playing and my dad would let me stand on his feet as he glided the two of us around the dance floor.

All the fun and fancy times ended around the time my parents split up when I was twelve. It was a bit messy as these things often are, but I was still able to see my dad on a regular basis and he was always there for me when I needed him. He was the one who taught me that if I wanted something done right I would have to do it myself. It was a great lesson that made me the independent person I am, but on the other hand it became so etched in my being that I am now just learning that it's okay to ask for help.

When I moved to Los Angeles in August of 1975, my dad was still living in Calgary but he also had a house in Palm Desert. I was struggling beyond belief when I first arrived in L.A. Shooting bands wasn't the problem. I just couldn't have a 'real' job here to support my photography while I was getting established because I didn't have a green card. But being instilled with way too much pride, I didn't have it in me to call my dad and ask for his help. He probably wouldn't have helped anyway... he wasn't the type of dad to give hand-outs.

Finally, in late September I somehow got booked to shoot an Australian band, Ayer's Rock, while they were recording at the Record Plant. The shoot would pay me enough money to cover a few bills and cover my gas to Palm Desert so I could visit my dad and pretend I was doing fine. I made arrangements with him to drive over the following weekend. It was perfect timing. His wife was going back to Calgary so we planned to spend the weekend alone, just catching up and reconnecting.

It was early Friday afternoon and I was sitting in the reception area of the Concerts West offices on Sunset Boulevard. I was waiting to see the main guy who I'd been trying to get an appointment with for two months. I had shot lots of shows they had promoted in the Pacific Northwest and I wanted to show them my pictures in hopes of them letting me shoot their shows in L.A. I planned to drive to the desert right after the appointment. I figured if I could bring my dad good news from the meeting and the Ayer's Rock job, he would give me advice on making my photography business work in L.A. Maybe I could even get him to invest. (An investment proposal would at least be a couple of rungs up from asking for a hand-out.)

So, there I sat, eavesdropping on everything the Concerts West receptionist said to the multitude of callers that rang in while I waited to see the big cheese...when suddenly my pager went off. I had a pager because I didn't have a home phone. Actually, I didn't even have a home. I was crashing wherever I could. And of course this was before cell phones were in every hand of the general public. As quickly as I hit the beeper button, my pager would go off again. And again. And again. What the hell... my pager would go days without beeping and suddenly I was the most popular girl on the block.

The receptionist looked at me and asked if I needed to use the phone. I didn't really want to call in for my message before the meeting - I wanted to stay focused - but she looked insistent so I picked up the phone and dialed. I had somewhere around ten messages. For some reason my pager hadn't been beeping all day. Until right before what I thought was the most important meeting of my life. I began listening to the messages. They were all from members of my family. My mother. My brothers. My sisters. Some of them had called more than once. None of them left me a message other than to call them back. There was only one member of my family that hadn't called. My dad.

The girl behind the desk couldn't help but notice the glazed look on my face when I hung up and asked if I could make one more call. I phoned my brother in Calgary and got the news I expected. My dad was dead. About the time I hung up the phone and tried to regain my composure, the big cheese emerged from his office. Both he and the receptionist saw there was something terribly wrong, so I had no choice but to tell them my dad had died. They offered to reschedule the meeting. I said no, I was fine to go ahead with it. In my head I was thinking about how long it had taken me to get the meeting. And my dad had also taught me pragmatism. He would have wanted me to go through with the meeting. What I didn't realize was that it was more uncomfortable for them than it was for me. I should have rescheduled.

Anyway, I ended up going to the desert that weekend but not before I picked up my brother at LAX. My other brother was already there. The three of us spent the weekend talking about our dad. And we had a few ghostly experiences - stories that I'll save for another time.

I guess you're wondering why the hell I'm writing all this personal stuff about my dad. First of all, it was his birthday on Saturday. But mostly, I thought you should get to know him. Because if it weren't for my dad, Everybody I Shot Is Dead would not be coming out this Fall. You see, my dad left a rather unorthodox will. It's a bit complicated and there's no reason to go into detail other than to say that I received my remaining share a couple of years ago. I put it away as the seed money to build my nest egg on, swearing I would never touch it.

I actually had no intention of publishing this book myself, but I reconsidered after I read through my journals and relived the torture of all the meetings I had with the big NY houses before I decided to publish Starart. Then, as I walked by my dad's picture that hangs on the wall between my living and dining rooms, a thought washed over my mind. I should check and see how much this book is going to cost to print, knowing full well that there was no way I could afford to do it...especially the way I wanted it.

Still, I figured there was no harm in checking. Remember what my dad always told me: if you want something done right... So, I went to a bookstore and scoured all the books that lived up to my quality standards. I found a printer and submitted the specs for an estimate. Turns out my dad's money was the exact amount I needed to print the book. What are the chances of that? I took that as a sign. That, and the fact that taking pictures of rock stars was the one thing he knew I was doing. Oh yeah, and he paid for my camera. And now I can't help thinking that's exactly how it was supposed to be. It just seems fitting that my dead father is financing my dead rock star book. Making it possible for me to honor these fine musicians. I just hope he knows I am also honoring him.

Thanks, dad. And Happy (Belated) Birthday.

OZalid

Friday, August 17, 2007 - 9:55am

I opened the door before he had a chance to knock. I had been waiting for him. And I heard his truck grind to a stop in front of my house.

He was slightly startled when I appeared on the porch. I smiled at him, "I guess you didn't know I was waiting for you." That remark flustered him speechless. He quickly handed off a package to me and thrust his hand-held for me to sign.

I scurried back into my room and placed the package on my bed. Even though I was anxious to open it, I didn't. This was a monumentous occasion. And I had decided the day before that I would not look at it at home. So I quickly pulled myself together - just enough for public toleration - and with package and one set of wet proofs in hand, headed off to one of my frequently frequented Starbucks®.

These days it's fun to look at all things book in a public venue because I get to feel the curious eyes ogling my wares and hear the wheels turning in their brains as they try to figure out what the heck I'm doing. So far I've had my full size double=spread sheets out, either showing someone I'm meeting or looking through them when I was making corrections. On one such occasion, I was at one table showing the wet proofs to a friend of mine and Scott was several tables over with another set of wet proofs checking for more typos.

But on Friday it was just me. I had a set of wet proofs with me but what I focused on this time was what was in the package. The final ozalid from the printers.

The Front Cover

The final ozalid is the complete book printed out just as it will be in the final book, the pages printed on both sides and each form stapled together the same way they will be sewn together and bound into the hardcover. And, as you can see, the ozalid is blue. The ozalid is the last thing I look at and approve before the printer runs the real sheets and binds the books. The oxalid is also the first time I get to turn each page and see the book in order.

There they were. Page after page after page. All my sweet musicians coming to life after seven and a half months of solid labor. I wasn't expecting what happened next but at the same time I wasn't surprised.

I cried.

Even though the ozalid is blue and funky looking, it was still my baby[ies]. And it/they were beautiful. I looked through it three or four times. I made sure all the pages were where they belonged. I checked all the page numbers. I made sure the pictures hadn't moved and none of the captions had disappeared. What I didn't do was read the text. I knew if I read it I would find something I wanted to change. Every writer would. It's just the nature of the beast. And making a change at this point would take the book out of its printing rotation and delay my delivery by at least a week. That would be the kiss of death. Besides, I know nothing is perfect and I will be proud of every imperfection that rears it's ugly head...I will embrace every typo that got away and I will relish each and every grammatical mistake...then I'll fix them all before the second printing. (God I hope there's a second printing).

This is the inside cover that is laminated to the hard casing.

This shows all the parts of the jacket that will have a UV spot gloss.
The black background on the jacket will have a matte finish.

The forms. There are 16 pages per form and 13 forms in all.

The first two pages of Michael Bloomfield's section.

After the fourth check to make sure my baby had all its fingers and toes, I called the printers and said, "PRINT!!!! PRINT!!!! PRINT!!!!" As you read this, the pages are most likely running through the press. That's 2,080,000 pages. 4,160,000 pictures.

The next package that arrives on my doorstep will be a box of advance copies... the first time I will see the finished book. I hope they include a box of Kleenex.

The Grass Is Always Greener

When I was pushing through the final weeks of finishing the writing and designing of the book, and staying up all night for days in a row to make my deadlines, I was saying to myself "It will be so much easier when I just have the business stuff to do."

It's not.

Don't get me wrong. Things are going very well. It's just harder when you have to deal with people who are alive. My dead musicians could be a pain at times, but for the most part they were cooperate and helpful.

And the shopping cart is back. For the third time. It didn't make it up to the porch. It stopped in front of the garage. I think I'm going to keep it.

Merv Griffin Dead at 82

July 6, 1925 – August 12, 2007

The first time I met Merv Griffin was in November 1979 when he agreed to have me on his talk show to promote my first book, Starart. Merv did me a huge favor. I'd never been on TV before and I didn't have a publicist pushing for me, or someone calling in a favor. We just presented the project and I was booked. Just like that. Merv didn't even ask if I could bring one of the artists on. He was happy just to have little old me on with my little book. Once I was on the show, he gave me a ton of time plus had me sit next to Jay Leno!

Here's a clip from my appearance on the Merv Griffin show along with an interview with the artists from my book that was filmed at one of our gallery openings:

And a still from the show. L to R clothing designer Bob Mackie, Merv holding my book, Charlie's Angel Cheryl Ladd, Jay Leno applauding my book (how cool is that?) and me:


I met Merv one more time a few years back. I was at the Beverly Hilton Hotel - which Merv owned - and somehow ended up meeting his son, Tony. I really have no idea who I was with or why I was there, but I was at a big table with Tony and a couple of other people in one of the ballrooms for some music show or a dance thing, when Merv strolled in and joined us at the table. He looked much older than when I first met him and was much larger at the time but he was still the sweet man he'd always been. The man who cut a young unknown girl a break.

Thank you, Merv. Everyone who had the opportunity to meet you will certainly miss you.

Proofed

I've been kind of busy lately. I keep meaning to post here every day and then I bomb out because I get caught up in the work of the day or become paralyzed realizing the number of things I need to get done. I will try to do better on all counts.

The news of the day is that the book is completely proofed. The corrections I sent in a week or so ago came back with everything perfect except for three small fixes. Including one typo that I had fixed in the last round - a sentence that said "He was also played on..." - where instead of deleting the word "was," I deleted "also." Oops. That along with the other two quick fixes were approved today (or was it yesterday?) and everything is now in the hands of the printers.

I will see and approve the blueline - that's a copy of the book that looks like a blueprint, all put together so I can be sure it's all in the correct order and everything shows up on the page - on August 16th. Once that's done the press will be fired up and the beautiful fresh virgin pages of paper shall receive their cyan, magenta, yellow and black inks...finally bringing the musicians to life.

The advance copies will be express shipped to me around the 26th of September. The same day the bulk of the books are trucked over to a dock to be loaded on a boat. That shipment should arrive mid-October and the pre-orders will be immediately packed and shipped out. Yay!!

Twilight Zone

I was about to sit down to write an important post tonight when I decided I was thirsty. Remembering that I had left a bottle of water in my car, I picked up my keys and headed to the front door. My son had been here with his girlfriend and left maybe ten before to get camera batteries at the drugstore.

I approach the door and notice a patch of red through frosted yellow-tinted window slats of the front door. I figure my son must have taken something out of his girlfriend's car and left it there to pick up when he got back. No problem. Without hesitation, I open the door and bam... this is what I see...

It's back. WTF...how did it appear again? I know it wasn't there when my son left. And not even ten minutes had passed. I saw nothing and heard nothing. The dog didn't bark and he can hear people approach long before they arrive at the door. But suddenly the shopping cart was mysteriously back on my porch, even though my son had moved it to the corner of our street last night.

Okay, like you , I'm figuring my son is behind this prank. About five minutes later I hear his girlfriend's car pull into the driveway. This time the dog barks. Why didn't he bark when the shopping cart made its way up the two steps and back on to the porch. It's a heavy-duty shopping cart and should have made a lot of noise when it was pushed up the driveway.

I walk outside to greet the kids. When it comes to my son I have an amazing built-in bullshit detector. I confront him about the cart as soon as they emerge from the car. I know if he pulled the prank he would cop to it because there is just no way he could hold back his laughter. I get no reaction other than his surprise that the cart is back. Nothing. Straight-faced, he has no idea how it got back on the porch. I believe him.

This is getting a little creepy. I think it's time to install video surveillance cameras.

Bad Omen?

I took Drama to the Puppy Park at the top of Laurel Canyon late this afternoon. I hadn't been out all weekend because my back was messed up from carting all my proofs around and then shooting Crash Hot on Thursday night. They were really, really good, btw... and I'm hoping I got some good shots of them. Admittedly, I was a little rusty. Actually, at times I felt clueless. But that's another story.

So, the dog had a great time at the park. He loves being chased around by other dogs and outsmarting them as he makes his escape. I was going to pick up something to eat on the way home but by the time we left the park it was almost eight o'clock and I decided I didn't want to eat a whole meal that late.

When I pulled into my driveway...well, that's when I saw it. Right there on my front porch, as if it was begging for someone to let it inside. It would have been different if it was on the street, or on the sidewalk, or even loitering in my driveway for Christ's sake. But on my front porch?

Jesus, this can't be good. Especially since I've been making jokes of late about possibly needing this very item if things don't go well with my book. Although I'm pretty sure I didn't make the joke to anyone close enough to my house; someone who could follow through with a cruel joke of their own. I think I said it to Brett, but he's been back in the state of Bush for at least the past ten days. Who could have done such a thing?

Maybe if I put it up here, someone will confess or give me a lead. This is it. What I saw when I pulled into my driveway:

Someone please tell me this isn't a sign of things to come.

Back In The Saddle

I'm going to a club tonight to shoot a band.

The last time I shot a musician was a year and a half ago when I took pics of my friend Chris Parker at the Yamaha Groove Night at NAMM. Actually I did a whole series of blogs on my reunion with Chris, whom I first met when he was drumming for Paul Butterfield's band Better Days. If you haven't read the five part series you don't know what you're missing. Here they are in proper reading order for your procrastinationary enjoyment:

Chris & Me Part 1
Chris & Me Part 2
Chris & Me Part 3
Chris & Me Part 4
Chris & Me Part 4

The band I'm going to shoot tonight is Crash Hot. They're Australian. I met them at the photo shoot on Tuesday. Randee was shooting them after she was done with me.

My son was there too...in case you don't know, he's taken to shooting bands live of late. You can see his stuff here. He recently shot Rooney and Tyler Hilton.

We are both going to shoot Crash Hot tonight. How weird is that? Chesher & Son Rock'n'Roll Photography at your service. Old school and new school all rolled into one. This should be fun.

Picture Day

This is a test polaroid for the photo shoot I did today. I'll be using the pictures as my publicity shots for the book. Hopefully the talk shows will consider me TV friendly. Don't worry, I actually cracked a smile a few times during the shoot.

Thanks to Tasha for a great make-up job, and of course Randee, who is the best photographer I know, bar none.

F&Gs

As if I haven't already had my share of late nights getting Everybody I Shot Is Dead off to the printers, here I am again. It's after 1am and I am in front of my computer printing F&Gs. What are F&Gs? They are something my soon-to-be-PR firm will need.

That's right, I'm hiring a PR firm. On Starart (my last book) I did the publicity myself with the help of friends and a full time assistant. And we did a pretty good job. I did some TV (Merv Griffin, for one), lots of radio (K-Earth and KMET), had a full page feature in Playboy, among others, and also had lots of newspaper features, reviews (all good, btw) etc. But these days there's just way too much ground to cover for the little engine that could. So I made what I hope is the wise decision to go in further debt for the book and bring on a real PR firm - one that is very well connected with everyone in the media and although they can't make any promises, I'm confident that we will get results. I'm really looking forward to the experience of having a PR team working with me on getting the word out there and am planning to sign the contract tomorrow and go out with guns blazing...

There's a few important deadlines that need to be met immediately. And that's why the publicist needs F&Gs asap. F&G is short for "folded and gathered." They are what you give the press for reviews before your book is printed so you can get reviews and/or features in publications that have long lead times. The F&Gs need to include The first one we need to hit up is Publisher's Weekly. There are a trade magazine that goes out to all the bookstores and if you don't have a review in PW you are pretty much dead in the water. They are also the first review (usually) that you see on a book's Amazon page. And they have a three month in advance of the release date deadline. So, figuring they will get the F&Gs by August 1, I am setting the official book release date as November 1. Not to worry...the people who order[ed] from my website will receive their books earlier.

So the F&Gs are basically just the text from the book plus a selection of a few photographs. But knowing that first impressions are everything, I'm printing out all the text pages just as there appear in the book with the photographs. Then I'm going to include one color spread and one black & white spread from the wet proofs in each of the five F&G packages that the publicist has requested. The whole thing is turning out to be a lot of work because there are 80 pages in the book that include text, and I'm printing double-sided which means I have to pay close attention to what I'm doing.

It's now 2:34am...I think I need sleep and will have to finish the remainder of the pages tomorrow.

zzzzzzzzz........

On The Radio

I'm going to be interviewed on a radio program, The Back Porch, that runs from 4-5:30 pm E.T. tomorrow - that's Saturday - at 89.3 FM in Hartford, Connecticut. And everybody around the world can hear because they have a live stream on the internet HERE. I just checked it out and it's super easy to access. Right on their front page is a "Listen Live" link. I clicked it and it immediately connected through my iTunes, crystal clear.

The show is celebrating Michael Bloomfield's birthday so it will be an hour and a half of great music and interviews. The show's host, Chris Cowles, told me he is also interviewing Harvey Brooks, who played with Michael on Bob Dylan's Highway 61 Revisited and with The Electric Flag. It should be a great hour and a half, so don't miss it.

I am really excited that my first official publicity for the book will be talking about Michael, who you all know is one of my favorite people in the world...and favorite guitarist.

And in my own Everybody I Shot Is Dead celebration of Michael's Birthday, please put on your party hats and your favorite Bloomfield CD, then sit back and read my Michael Bloomfield ghost stories:

Part one: GHOST

Part two: GHOST II

Part three: GHOST ON A PLANE

And take a look and listen to the passionate Michael I knew as he talks about the blues, Son House and Paul Butterfield on this clip from the documentary, Festival.

Happy Birthday, Michael. I miss you.

My Lack of Posting

Sometimes I can in a headspace where I can't motivate myself to post. Or do much of anything for that matter. I have been working, although not at the pace I was and not accomplishing as much as I should. I have a stockpile of stuff to catch up on...such as the bleekness that is my accounting. (I still haven't filed my '06 taxes) I managed to reconcile the past three months of two bank accounts and two credit cards in the past two days.

The Amazon account for selling the book is set up. I just can't list the book until after Wednesday when my discount offer is over because they can't see that I have sold the book at that much of a discount. Same with some of my other distributors. SO IF YOU ARE PLANNING TO BUY THE BOOK EVER, DO IT BY WEDNESDAY. Or wait and buy it on Thursday when the price goes up so I can make more money. Yes, do that. Wait. Procrastinate. Buy it at full price.


Thanks to all of the people who have ordered. And those of you who have become friends of my MySpace. I'm closing in on 1050 friends and expect to have at least ten thousand by the end of August. I've met some interesting people who have taken the time to get in touch. It's funny how I have more virtual friends (people I communicate with on a regular basis that I've never met in person) than I do in-person friends. Wait a second. Forget I said that. I don't think I like how that reflects on me as a person.


The good news for those of you picking up the book from my website, I'm expecting you will receive your copies at least a week or two before they make it to the bookstore. I'll explain the reasoning behind that in the next day or two when I'll have some other breaking news.

Oh, did I mention the proofs will be in my hot little hands in the morning? Tuesday by 10:30am via FedX - so I'll be busy mining for typos and making sure the color is perfect and the pictures look perfect before I send in the changes and sign off for the printing.

Better get some sleep so I can focus on those pages.

Thanks for hanging in with me. I'll try and get back into the posting groove...just a few more credit card accounts to reconcile.

The Wet Proofs Are Coming, The Wet Proofs Are Coming...

That's right. Wet proofs. And they're coming early next week. All the way from Hong Kong.

Ink-on-paper proofs for every page of Everybody I Shot Is Dead. I'm guessing the pages are all going to be one-sided, but still...to see everything exactly how it's going to look and on the actual paper. How cool is that?

I hope I don't hate it. Oops, did I say that out loud?

I don't think I will. The whole thing has begun to take on a life of its own, with complete disregard of me. As if I had nothing to do with it. As if the book made itself. Like when your kid suddenly proclaims s/he raised her/himself and you, as the parent, had absolutely nothing to do with what/who they've become.

My kid did that. And since I had nothing to do with raising him, I pretend he doesn't exist. But when I told I put pictures of Drama on my blog, he asked me if I gave him photo credit.

"No."

"How dare you."

"Fine...I'll give you photo credit."

"And send people to my MySpace?"

"Okay."

The pictures of Drama were taken by Tyler Chesher. You can see more of his brilliant photography here.

Go take a look at it and tell me if you think I didn't have any influence on him.

Duh.

I'm having a few people over to scrutinize the wet proofs...last chance to make changes. Did I mention that after I turned all the files over to the printer I found seventeen pages that had typos? I'm guessing there are going to be a bunch more. If any of you out there happens to be a super-duper proof reader and you live in the L.A. area, please let me know. I can always use a fresh pair of eyes. The pizza's on me.

Oh...I almost forgot, for the eight hundredth time, I also have a MySpace site for the book and my photography. I'm shooting to have one friend for every copy of the book I'm printing. So far (in four or five days time) I have 722. That's only 9,278 to go. If you are on MySpace stop by my MySpace. And then tell all your friends to do the same.

As always, I truly appreciate your support.

Playing Possum

Meet Drama...

Much like his namesake, Johnny "Drama" Chase...

Drama takes desperate measures to make new friends...

And only manages to get hissed at...

Analyze This...

So, I had a dream last night that I got the book back from the printers and the ink was peeling... as if it was acrylic paint.

The Time Has Come...

...to buy your copy/copies of Everybody I Shot Is Dead.

Not only can you pre-order your book, you can also look at eight pages from the book.

Why buy now when you're not going to get the book[s] until October?

1. You'll save money - buy before 7/25 and the price is only $36...that's a 40% discount off the $60 retail price, and the same price that the stores pay.

2. You'll receive your copy before the book is in the stores.

3. Buy from my site and your book[s] will be signed.

4. It's a great way to get all your Christmas shopping out of the way.

So, go on over there right now and pick up a copy or two or three. There's big savings on shipping when you buy three books. If you want more than three, send an email so we can give you a shipping quote.

Once you've read the pages I posted and finish your shopping, come on back here and make a comment. I'd love to know what you think of the pages I posted.

New Cover

Here it is...click to make bigger.

The background will be a matte finish black and the photos, and possibly the type will have a spot gloss varnish.

It wraps around...the inside front flap will have no text. Less is more in my opinion.

The text under the musicians names reads:
Forty-eight of the hundreds of musicians Deborah Chesher photographed from 1974-79 have since passed away.
This is a collection of over four hundred of her never-before-published photographs and her personal stories.

The text on the back insid flap says:
Deborah Chesher’s first book, Starart, debuted the fine art of musicians Joni Mithchell, John Mayall, Cat Stevens, Klaus Voormann, Ron Wood and George “Commander Cody” Frayne.
Visit our website for the latest news and to read Deborah Chesher’s online blog chronicling the making of this book.
Limited and Open Edition prints of Deborah Chesher’s rock‘n’roll photography are available.



Comments?

More Greetings...

...this time from Bob hope Airport.

Yes, I am waiting for an airplane.

I've been awake for at least 36 hours. So has Scanner Dude. We spent the night at his studio working our asses off trying to finish the book.

It's all a blur to me now.

But it's done.

For the most part.

We did 4/color proofs for every single page. Some of them for a second time. Scanner Dude really went beyond The Call. Or else he just wanted to get it over with and get rid of me.

Just kidding... I sat partially behind him putting scans into pages while he was color correcting some of the brattier scans. I could see what he was doing. He spent a lot of time on color balancing, working really hard to get them just right. There were several times when I wanted to blurt out, "It looks great! Time to move on." But he kept at it until he was happy with it. Then he was running the proofer and if he didn't like the out put, he'd do it again. He takes a lot of pride in his work but I've never seen him work this hard on anything before.

Lucky me.

So, I'm still going to go through all the proofs and check every little thing. Fix any straggling typos I find, etc. I should probably get some sleep first but I'm pretty much out of time. I didn't finish the "Acknowledgment" page, but proofed it anyway, just with a couple of names on it.

I almost finished the cover but didn't have time to downsize the 48 pictures I'm putting on it. I left before Scanner Dude proofed it and he was going to drive the leftovers over to my house. Then I got the call. The document wouldn't open. Seems I overloaded it with 5 gigs of pictures. So, I have to decrease the sizes when I get there and hopelly get an output there.

Wow. People are lining up to board the plane. Guess I better wrap this up.

I will continue once I'm there, unless I pass out. Then, it will be tomorrow.

Get ready... things are really going to start cooking now.

Greetings From Scanner Dude's Office

It's after 1:30am and I've been here since 5pm. I guess I can update where I'm at, since everybody's guess - all three :( of them - but Timo's has past and we're not done.

We have 8 scans left to redo for one reason or another and Scanner Dude has yet to give me all the new color ones that he's still balancing. So I have three musicians that need all their photos placed in the Quark documents, plus 6 that have a missing scan or two.

I'm guessing that's less than a day's work for me, but I still have to finish writing Terry Kath (the last one!!) and rewrite that other one. And I have to do the mechanical for the cover.

We've been running the proofs as we go along, and of course I'm finding minor changes to make in those before we run the final set for the printers.

I think I'll make might flight reservation right now. For Sunday night. So, I'll be at the printers NoCal office first thing Monday morning.

I need sleep.

I'm Close...

...too bad close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades.

After not being able to locate Scanner Dude last Sunday (a bad day), I found out he'd been working on my scans and had a stack for me on Monday (a good day). So, I'm frantically going through them, cloning out any remaining bits of dust and retarded pixels, and placing them into the Quark layouts so Scanner Dude can do a few test proofs. I wasn't holding out much hope for some of the color - especially Marc Bolan - because they didn't look that great on my monitor. But Scanner Dude said they looked good on his and they would proof well. Okay.

Got them back on Tuesday (a bad day) and the black and whites looked great, while the color sucked ass, just as I thought they would. Scanner Dude couldn't figure it out. Maybe it's your slides...after all, they are kinda old. "Well," I respond, "they look just fine on my inexpensive Epson flatbed so I don't see why you can't get them to look great on your ultraexpensive drum scanner." Not one to back down from a challenge, Scanner Dude says not to worry, he's going to figure it out.

Also on Tuesday, or maybe it was Wednesday (making it two bad days in a row) - yes, it was Wednesday, Scanner Dude sends over more scans, including re-dos of my troublesome Keith Knudsen color shots. Guess what? They suck ass, even worse than Marc Bolan. I call Scanner Dude and tell him. He doesn't know why they suck on my monitor because, again, they look fine on his. I told him I put his scan next my scan and his is so bad, I might have to use mine if he can't fix it.

Here's a portion of his and mine so you understand what I'm talking about:

Scanner Dude's scan

My scan

So, I email him my scan and let him know he's a loser if he can't at least make his as good as mine, and it better be better.

I also decide on Wednesday (let's call it Black Wednesday) it's time to call the Printer Dudette and let her know that I'm not going to be there with my files on Monday as I had planned. Although it's not the end of the world, and it probably won't delay the delivery of the book (October '07, folks) the call was really tough to make because in all my years of advertising this is the first time I have missed a deadline. And that pisses me off. Not to mention having to redo the placement of the scans over and over again.

On Thursday Scanner Dude calls and says he figured it out and that he ran a test proof of the Keith Knudsen photo to prove it. He came running over with that and more scans last night. He was right - the new scan looked good, even though the color hadn't been balanced yet. What had gone wrong, you ask? The monitor he had been working on had a calibration problem, so when he put the scans on it they looked too hot - cartoony, he said - and he balanced them until they looked right...on his monitor. Aaarrrggghhh! Guess I've been overworking him.

Now, we are more or less back on track and I'm being over-optimistic in setting a new lofty goal-slash-deadline of Thursday. I really shouldn't write that down because chances are I won't make that one either. There's so much time-consuming work left to do. For example, I'm utilizing a lot of film strips in the design so I can present more photos without the layout looking yearbookish. But when Scanner Dude spins the strips, since they're negs the image has to invert, making the sprockets black. Which means I have to retouch them back to white and also clone out the lubricant they use that coagulates on the edges of the strip. For a five frame strip, it take an hour plus change.

Before...........................After

And to add to the pile, I re-read one of the text bits and it sucked - I'm not telling which one because I don't want anyone searching it out to see if it still sucks - now I have one more reader going through all the text and being brutally honest with his 'suck meter' as well as catching more typos that three of us missed. So, I have a little rewriting to do, not to mention I still have finished the last two musicians and the last two dedications.

I think it's time to start a betting pool and see if somebody can nail the date and time I'm ready to go to the printers - meaning when the last approved proof is spit out of Scanner Dude's proof printer. Think of it like a baby pool. And the winner (closest to the date and time) gets a free book (FOB Los Angeles - meaning you have to pay the postage if you live outside of L.A.).

I had no intention of turning this post into a contest, but what the heck. And there's no way I can put the fix in, because I don't have a clue when this baby is going to be delivered. Although I can say I'm getting tired of being pregnant, so a scheduled C-section isn't out of the question.

Place your guess in the comments section of this post. No need to divulge your contact info...I will announce the winner when it happens and the winner can email me. One entry per person by noon on July 4th. In the meantime, I will not update my progress, so there will be no point to waiting until the last minute to enter. As a matter of fact, your best guess might be taken by someone else if you don't enter early.

Good luck!

My Bad

Turns out scanner guy was at his shop yesterday and worked until 4 this morning. He didn't hear the phone when I called because the ringer was turned down and he was wondering why he hadn't heard from me.

So he stopped by this morning with the remainder of the color scans and a bunch of black and whites. I put Marc Bolan's section together since his color shots are the most troublesome for me at the moment and scanner guy will output a proof for me tonight. The Bolan black and whites kick ass. The color shots are great shots, but I have to see how the scans proof to see what adjustments need to be made to the color.

Once I see the Marc Bolan section proofed, I will know what adjustments are needed on the rest of the scans and can move full steam ahead on the rest. (She said, optimistically.) I only have two musicians left to write about and four dedications. Trying to finish them all by end of day tomorrow. May need to pull an all-nighter tonight just to get a grip on the enormous amount of work left to do.

Despite all my complaining, let me say... I am having a great time doing this book. It is incredibly rewarding every single day and I can't wait for people to see it.

One Week

That's it. That's all the time I have left. We're talking wing and a prayer here, folks.

I have two musicians left to write about and still need to finish up the five dedications. That's not so much. I can definitely see the light at the end of that tunnel. My big problem is that I haven't placed the high res scans yet...well, maybe I've done 10% of them. I was going to work on it at my scanner guy's place yesterday afternoon and all day today. 'Cept he's gone AWOL. I've called him at least ten times today but nobody was there.

So, tomorrow I am going to show up at the place - it's a workday so there will be people there - and under the auspices of needing to look at the original slides in order to redo the color corrections that I'm not happy with (which is true, btw), I'm going to park my ass there until he's finished with my job. (I'm afraid to count how few final scans I've received from them). And whatever's not working out, I will rush my originals over to the other scanning place. I've worked with this guy for many years but I'm losing faith in his broken promises, and there's just no more time left to screw around.

I also need to find an attorney to consult and make sure I take care of whatever things in the text need to be cited. I'm mentioning song titles in the text and have yet to receive a definitive consensus on whether I need to list credits to the publisher, copyright holder and/or record company. And it's always good to have an attorney look over things before they go to print, just to lessen the chance of getting sued over a misspelled name or something.

Yup, it's definitely a wing and a prayer time.

I'm expecting a few sleepless nights over the next week, but it will be worth getting the book finished. Although, it's a little on the bittersweet side. I'm really getting used to living with my dead rock stars. They're beginning to feel like family.

Do You Believe In Ghosts?

As this blog is my witness, yesterday I was writing the text to go with my Harry Nilsson pictures. It was a tough write because there was a lot to say in very little space, but I finished it. And it started me wondering what really happened to that last album he had finished the vocal tracks on just days before he passed away. I thought about trying to get in touch with my friend who I knew Harry through, but then I was thinking, there's really no time to do that. And besides, I was pretty happy with how the text finally came out. Then last night Harry was in one of my dreams but I've been so tired lately, I'm not remembering the details of my dreams when I wake up. But he was definitely present. I know, I know, it's not uncommon to dream about someone when you've just been focused on them for seven hours.

Today I had appointments with both companies that are doing the scans for the book. While I was driving there I got a phone call from one of my movie clients asking something about a previous job I'd done for her. A couple of seconds into the call she said my voice was garbled. We hung up and she called me back. It was still garbled, even though I could hear her perfectly. Then I got another call and the same thing happened. Okay, I need to get my cell phone fixed.

After all my meetings over the hill, I dropped by Sprint - the store near my house where I knew they had while-you-wait repair service. I go in only to find out they closed the repair counter down because there wasn't enough traffic. They gave me a piece of paper with listings of a bunch of repair places and circled the second one of the list. I don't know why they picked the second one when the first one was as close, or closer.

I drove the 3 miles East on Ventura Blvd and pulled into the parking area that was overflowing with cars from from the local gym, thinking I really need to go to my gym. Fortunately, there was a reserved spot open in front of the cell phone repair shop. (Of course there was...I have a parking fairy, but that's another story). I walk in the shop and notice two guys sitting behind the service counter. The guy on the right asks what he can do for me before I even reach the counter. The other guy was online and talking to a guy leaning on the side of the counter. I tell the guy helping me that the mic is not working on my phone. He asks to see it and immediately informs me that he probably doesn't have the part, but he'll look it up.

How am I doing at dragging this story out? Pretty good, eh?

So, while he's tending to that, the other guy turns to me and asks if I know how to spell the name of the restaurant "Pasche." I gave it a shot - P-a-s-c-h-e - but they didn't think that was right and my guy was ready for me with my prognosis so I turned back to him. He said they didn't have the part and couldn't fix my phone. Shit. But the store in Encino could probably fix it since they were a corporate Sprint, whereas these guys were independent and weren't provided with a lot of older (2 years) parts. I then go out to my car to get my list to confirm with him which store it is.

When I come back in the other guy happily reports that they found the restaurant. It's P-a-c-e. "Oh, Pace," I say. Yeah, but it's called Pashay. Does it have an accent on the e, I ask? He shows me on the screen. Yes. And then calls the restaurant. While my guy is calling the other Sprint place to make sure they have the part, I overhear that last part of the other guy making a reservation. I thought he was doing it for the other customer. I wasn't paying much attention until, out of the corner of my ear, I heard him spell N-i-l-s-s-o-n and say it was for four.

I glanced at him and when he hung up the phone I made some smartass comment like, "So, I'm invited to dinner?" as the spelling of the name sunk in. How odd, I thought, as he joked back, "Sure, dinner's at 7:30." Then I mumbled, "You don't happen to know Harry. do you?" "Excuse me?" "Sorry, I just heard you spell Nilsson. Just wondered if you knew Harry."

"I'M HIS SON."

"No shit." As I looked at him a little closer. Of course. He looked a lot like him.

"Yup. Harry Nilsson is my dad."

I immediately went into my "Oh my God, you're not going to believe this but I'm doing a book and your dad is in it..." spiel. I don't think he believed me at first, until I started filling in the details with evidence that I did actually know his dad. And then he had lots of questions, as did I...like "whatever happened to the album he was working on when he died?"

He was as freaked out as I was that I had just been writing about Harry yesterday. We talked about a bunch of stuff and I gave him a postcard on the book. We exchanged information and I told him I'd be in touch so he could see the pictures. And that I'd give his family a print when I got them done and then I left...

...TOTALLY FREAKED OUT.

I mean what are the chances that he'd spell his name on the phone when I happened to be standing there? Hell, what are the chances that Harry Nilsson's son would be behind the counter at a cell phone store I was sent to to get my phone fixed?

Especially since I'd run into the woman who is directing my movie at the scanners earlier in the day. And we had a long talk while she looked at the mock-up of my book. She also had some good news about our movie and we discussed how great things were working out for both of us. I made a comment about how cool it was that things and people were just connecting out of the blue for us and that it was a sign that we were going in the right direction.

So, I'm guessing you think the story is over now, right?

It's not.

I got in my car and as I was leaving the parking lot a song came on the radio.

It was One by Three Dog Night. My all-time favorite Three Dog Night song. They don't play it much on the radio anymore.

Do you know who wrote One?

Harry Nilsson.

And what could be weirder than that?

Someone called my cell phone as soon as I got home. The caller could hear me just fine. Then someone else called. That caller could hear me just fine. And then someone else, and someone else. There's nothing wrong with my phone.

Hi, Harry. Thanks for visiting. Feel free to stop by any time.

Nilsson, Badfinger & Schmilsson

I'm trying to finish writing about Harry - don't know why, but it's hard to organize everything he did and who he was in less than a page.

I also have to finish Badfinger which is very tricky because their story is a convoluted tragedy, making it tricky to condense.

Whenever I mention Badfinger, people seem to have heard of them but can't remember any of their songs. Same thing goes for Mr. Nilsson. And since there are forever intertwined by Without You I thought I'd share these With You.

Harry Nilsson's hit version of Badfinger's Without You:


Badfinger's version of Badfinger's Without You:


And finally, a little Schmilsson that will hopefully put a smile on your face:

Tick, tick, tick...kaboom!

I feel like I'm in a video tape movie where the time is on fast forward but I'm in real time desperately trying to keep up. I have several more travelblog posts to finish but with my giant looming deadline casting a dark cloud over the sunny California horizon I'm full throttle (make that slow throttle) on finishing Everybody I Shot Is Dead. Sometimes I wonder if I'm stalling because I don't want this experience to end. Once the book is finished, I'm going to miss living with my dead rock stars.

Nah, I'm just a slow writer. I'm four lines away from finishing Keith Knudsen's text. I have yet to complete Frank Zappa, The Beach Boys, Peter Wood, Harry Nilsson, Badfinger, Terry Kath, George Harrison, Maurice Gibb, Tim Buckley, Marc Bolan, Alex Harvey, the five dedications and my story. And I haven't even started the Grateful Dead, Lowell George and John Denver. I also haven't placed all the high res scans, nor have I done the new cover. Yes, I am completely revamping the cover.

I'm assuming my readership would prefer I finish the book before I continue documenting yet another failed sexual exploit and my other excellent New York adventures.

NYC Travelblog #4

Saturday Night...

Friday night I went to the theater. After another long day of blabbing and walking at the expo, Saturday night started with party at a restaurant/bar - somewhere around 59th and Madison - hosted by the company that is printing Everybody I Shot Is Dead. They served drinks and buffet food (the ravioli was killer) and people who worked for their various companies plus authors, clients and other guests. The company contracts printing in China and they also have two publishing companies, including one that does music/art/photography oriented titles.

I spent much of the evening chatting with a girl who lives in the Bay Area and handles books created by the environmental non-profit she works for. Then they did a bunch of patting themselves on the back and honoring the authors of the new books they have coming out this Fall. So, I took the opportunity to meet a couple of other music photographers. One who tagged along with Elvis for a year while he was on his rise to the top and came out with a beautiful book called Elvis at 21: From New York to Memphis. The other was a guy who shot pictures of John and Yoko and has a book called John and Yoko: A New York Love Story coming out this Fall.

As the party was nearing its end, a friend of the girl I befriended showed up and the three of us had a drink at the bar. Her friend used to work for the Grateful Dead so we had some stories to share. Turned out he attended the San Francisco gallery opening we had for my previous book, Starart. The world continues to shrink.

By 10pm I was on my way back to my hotel to prepare for the arrival of Chris Parker. He had a gig in Connecticut, a couple of hours out, so I assumed he'd show up no earlier than midnite. I had spent the whole day sweating it out at the convention center and then went straight to the party after a quick stopover at my hotel and had planned to shower and do my best to transform into something presentable before he showed.

Turns out the maid service didn't clean the room on Saturday so I had to deal with that as well. Then, right when I was about to hop in the shower my cell phone rings. It's Chris Parker and he's three blocks away from my hotel. He'd be in the lobby in ten minutes. Great. Two minutes to recover from the shock, four minutes to faux-tidy the suite and four minutes to wash my face and apply the necessary layers of make-up to disguise my fatigue. Then a race down to the lobby to escort my cute drummer to my boudoir...

Imagine this suite much, much messier. Beds unmade, clothing and suitcases and papers strewn about. And now I've run out of time to blog so I'll have to finish this next time. Which is okay because it really took place in the wee hours of Sunday morning.

NYC Travelblog #3

Day 2 rolled around way too soon. I was already tired when I woke up. I took a cab to the Javitz instead of walking the 3 avenue blocks.

This time I was armed with my list and talked to as many people as I could about my book. I hung out at Google for a personal tutorial on their new Book Search feature. While there my tutor and I became subjects of the official expo photographer. It always pays to pick the cutest guy in the place to teach you (me) the ways of googleland. The photographer must have take twenty shots if he took one. Then I was accosted by a couple of women. Because I was wearing this:

The one girl said,"Where did you get that tee shirt? I have to have it." I had seven shirts made for the trip - some tees, some jerseys - and I got a huge response to them. Also for the title of the book in general. It was fun to overhear people's comments at the booth where my fliers were when they didn't know who I was. Things like, "Everybody I Shot Is Dead...what a great title." And with the shirts even when they had no clue, I'd hear "Did you see that shirt? Everybody I Shot Is Dead. Cool." One of the booths I visited had already heard about the book from some friend of theirs that brought them one of my postcards 'cause they loved the title and the idea.

The girls who were at the Google booth turned out to be freelance writers for the NY Times. I told them about the book and said I'd give them shirts if they wrote about the book. The girl that really wanted my shirt said she'd write about it whether she got a shirt or not.

So, as you can imagine, I'm very happy with the response I continued to receive on Day 2.

Last but not least, here's my Day 2 celebrity photo:

Next installment: Saturday Night.

NYC Travelblog #2

Um, where was I?

Oh yeah, the first day of the Book Expo. Hot and sweaty. There was no air conditioning on in the building on Thursday when everybody was setting up their booths. They turned it on for Friday but it didn't feel any cooler. Too many bodies.

I arrived shortly after the 9am opening. I put my flyers and postcards on one of the display tables at my printer's booth and started to make my rounds. Oops, I forgot all the pages I tore out of the catalogue with the companies I wanted to see circled. I decided to forego a new catalogue, they're too damn heavy to carry around and toddled off to Amazon. That took about an hour...the meeting, not the toddling. Three different Amazonians checked out the mock-up. All positive responses.

Then it was off to see the major wholesalers. One of the wholesalers won't distribute for publishers that only have one book. After I showed her the mock-up, she said they'd make an exception.

My other stops on my many mile walk included as many exhibitors I could find that had connections to foreign companies that were appropriate for distribution (Canada and the UK) and/or co-editions and translations. None of the end people were there but I was given excellent referrals.

My other stop on Day 1 was the five minutes it took to snap photos of the correctly identified celebrity (by Brett) LL Cool J.

I was dog-tired by the time I walked the three avenue blocks (much longer than street blocks for those of you unfamiliar with NY) carrying my heavy bag back to the hotel at the end of the day. But not to tired to hike uptown to the Burger Joint at the Parker Meridien (best burgers ever) followed by an evening at the theater to see Wicked (big thanks to Rick for that). Great show. I was especially impressed with the lighting and sets.

Stay tuned for Day 2.

More Chris Parker

Okay, I'm fucked. I was going to write this earlier and tell you that Chris Parker was coming over after his gig in Connecticut tonight. I figured he'd be here at midnight or whatever, if he came at all. Shit. He just called. He's three blocks away. The maid didn't come today. I just got back from a party. I was going to take a shower. Now I gotta make the bed.

Fuck.

Well there you go. There's going to be another Chris Parker hotel room story.

See ya'.

NYC Travelblog #1

I'm in my fourth hotel room. Started in the usual NY closet with a double bed. Fortunately, the TV was a split screen - the right side of the screen on the left and the left side was on the right. The front desk guy was going to give me a room with two beds but on a smoking floor. When my reaction was 'I'll check and see how bad it smells' he decided to give me another room with a double bed without telling me. When I went back down and told him I had wanted to see the double room he got kind of pissy and said it would be an additional $25. He finally gave me the key and an overling who had been eavedropping him apologized to me and said there was no charge. The room was better but there was no internet.

I decided not to complain, but then I got a call from the guy. He was suddenly sweet as pie and said if I wanted a different room he would change it the following day. Guess the overling had words with him. So, the next day he gave me a suite. A sweet suite. Two beds, a sitting area, a refrigerator and TWO bathrooms. In New York City. For the price of a closet with a double bed. The guy told me the only drawback was no wifi on this floor. But, it turns out there is wifi. Free wifi. In New York City.

This is the tail end of a line of at least 20 cop cars with lights flashing and sirens blaring parading through the streets for no apparent reason. They could have stopped and arrested the rat.


Yesterday I saw a guy on a bicycle get hit. He had a gash on his arm. Saw him again tonight walking on the sidewalk...no bike.

I stopped by the convention center yesterday (the show didn't open until this morning) to have my badge scanned and pick up my badge holder because I knew it would look like this today:

The convention center is hot and sweaty. Even inside there are way too many people:


I didn't see Harry but here's his bus:


But I did see this celebrity:


First person to name him doesn't get a prize. Just bragging rights.