LA Times Festival of Books ARC Give-away

LA Times Festival of Books logoLarry and Andrew will be at the LA Times Festival of Books on Sunday on the USC Campus to give away promotional copies of Things We Lost in the Night, Night People. We’ll be in the Greater Los Angeles Writers Society (GLAWS) Booth 953 from 12:20 to 2:00 pm, Sunday afternoon, the 19th of April. The event is free, though parking is not.

Please drop by and see us if you plan to be there. If you’d like to pick up a free  Advance Reading Copy of TWLitN, please let me know at larry@larryjdunlap.com so we’ll be sure to have enough books on hand.

YouTube Videos of Stark Naked and the Car Thieves’ songs

(Update from post in March 2011 – larryjdunlap.com/ljd-blog) An amazing thing has happened on YouTube. One of the things we all mourn is the loss of one the first music videos ever, which we did in Hawaii for “Look Back in Love” in 1968, the song was supposed to become our first big, national hit. Not only did it feature the band, but also the Hawaiian girl I met there and later married, (Things We Lost in the Night, A Memoir of Love and Music in the 60s, Book 2: Enchanted). I finally located the cinematographer who shot it but he told me it was lost in a fire.  It appears that there are many modern admirers of the band who have taken our music to YouTube. While noodling around on the web I somehow got to a wikipedia page that mentioned Jan Hutchins and Maurice Williams and the Zodiacs, and then a link to a YouTube video (below) that was weird. But first things first. Here is the first video to kick this montage off …

Look Back in Love

CLICK ON THE LINK BELOW TO SEE ALL THE YOUTUBE VIDEOS

Continue reading…

Tonight: The War in Vietnam – The Sixties

DON”T MISS IT. Tonight The Sixties on CNN, 9 pm (EST), 6 pm (PDT), plus there are usually several re-runs. Covers the war from its beginnings through 1968. The face of war changed forever with this escalation.  Combined with the pictures that brought the brutality of the war to the home front, a new sense of power and disenfranchisement from the country’s youth, and the hangover from the loss of a young and popular president, the support for this war faded as the commitment to it by the government went up. Up until this war, as Bill Murray exhorts his army buddies it in Stripes, “We’re 10 and 1!”

For me, it was trying to find a way to stay with my band when the army was bound and determined to induct me. I had no political viewpoint in the beginning, and to the degree I did, I tended to trust the government implicitly then.  That all began to change when it started to impact my life and I had to figure things out.

My most personal experience was when Stark Naked and the Car Thieves performed for a couple of months at a nightclub in Honolulu in April of 1968, as the buildup of American forces followed the Tet Offensive during the height of the Vietnam War. 80% of the guys in the club were either on R&R coming from the war or going home. The emotional power of the songs we played to remind these warriors of home, girlfriends and wives, high school, families, and buddies, some of them lost by their side, came through to all of us there. As the messengers through our music we became instant friends, somehow passed into the intimacy of one solder to another, and it was all we could do to hold onto our own feelings sometimes. We heard many stories from the battlefield, reminisces from home and witnessed soldiers at the outer  limits of their ability to endure. But as humans do, they found humor and understanding and love in their experiences. While they thought we were enriching their lives, it was they who were enriching ours.

Over the last few years I have received a surprising number of messages from soldiers who saw us at the Lemon Tree on the beach in Waikiki. To a man they remember us for the music and how it helped connect them to the things most important to them. God love them all.

Here’s a little quiz about the 60s you might enjoy – What 60s personality are you?

Larry J Dunlap, Things We Lost in the Night, a memoir of love and rock n roll music

Beyond the Candelabra – This 2013 HBO film is a flat, one-dimensional, embarassing mess

In a recent update to the update newsletter for LOOK BACK IN LOVE, a 60s tale of love and rock n roll,  I promised on the book’s website to write about who would be portraying our personal manager Seymour Heller in the recent HBO movie, Behind The Candelabra.  At the time I hadn’t actually seen the movie yet. Seymour Heller was best known for managing Liberace from a struggling pianist to a gigantic international star but he also managed Debbie Reynolds, and a long list of famous stars, that also included, Stark Naked and the Car Thieves in the late sixties. I not only knew Seymour from the three years he worked with me as the bandleader in managing our act from during those years, but also for the nearly three years later when I worked directly for him as an associate personal manager in the early 70s. I think that gives me enough credibility to comment frankly on this movie and how he and Liberace were portrayed. While I didn’t know Liberace nearly as well as Seymour, I met him often in the years when our band played at the Flamingo and International (Now Hilton) Hotels in Las Vegas, and afterwards working with Seymour.

Let me set aside for a moment my thoughts about the actual content of the movie. With several later years experience in video, film and post production, I have some strong opinions about the actual movie making process itself. As the movie unfolded, my wife Laurie and I constantly looked at each other wondering what in the hell we were seeing. The screenplay was just flat and poorly written — one-sided, un-nuanced and trite. It was adapted from an adversarial memoir, Behind The Candelabra, My Life With Liberace, by Scott Thorsen, who sued Liberace for palimony and is played by Matt Damon as a victim of Liberace’s seduction. Replace the gay young man with a young girl and any rich movie star or entertainer and you have the most over-worked Hollywood story ever written. Despite the amazing cast of characters, their performances were flat and one-dimensional and so many possible themes that could have been interesting and relevant were skipped in favor of the film’s exploitative goal. I thought the direction was uninspired, the cinematography average or below. I would be hard pressed to find any redeeming quality about the movie, amazingly enough, not even costumes.

I’d found it hard to understand why Seymour Heller was being played by Dan Ackroyd when I first heard about it; Sy was a personable guy but hardly a comedian. I heard a fiction writer say the best way to make a story believable was to make nine out of every ten facts in the story accurate. Apparently both the memoir and the screenwriter used this principal along with spin to deliver an inaccurate defamation of Liberace and an interpretation of Seymour Heller as a buffoon and pimp. I could never have believed the stars in this movie, many who must have known them both, would have taken part in such a character assassination of Liberace, or the parodying of an important and foundational man in the entertainment business as Seymour Heller if I hadn’t seen it for myself. Especially now that they are now dead and unable to defend themselves.

Lee and SyLet me tell you what I know firsthand. Seymour Heller, along with his New York partner, Dick Gabbe, practically invented the term personal manager. He fought to establish the talent management profession and worked with the big New York and Hollywood agencies to setup the rules that allowed them to co-exist. He established the Conference of Personal Managers, COPM, the first professional talent manager’s organization. Seymour began managing Liberace on a one year handshake contract in 1950 until Liberace’s death. Seymour was a tough negotiator and strict with his artists, and fought for them tooth and nail. He was a gentleman and wise in the ways of show business. There was nothing accurate in his portrayal in Behind the Candelabra. While we didn’t agree on everything, and I eventually struck out on my own, I always held Seymour and his integrity in the highest regard.

As for Liberace, he was an extremely kind and gracious host every time I met him. I did understand him to be thrifty, perhaps even tight-fisted except when it came to expenses for his show. Never did I see anything of the predator he is cast as in this movie. With Behind the Candelabra receiving 8 Creative Emmys, and likely to win several 2013 Emmy Awards I can’t help but feel sickened. I can’t believe I watched the same film. The cartoonish portrayal of Seymour and the single-minded depiction of a predatory Liberace disgust me. Very hard for me to see some of my favorite actors like Matt Damon, Michael Douglas, Scott Bakula, Dan Ackroyd, Debbie Reynolds in such damning roles.

If you do decide to see, or have seen the movie, I hope you’ll keep my opinions in mind.

MEETING A MONSTER and LIBERACE’S TAILOR

Stark Naked and the Car Thieves, Rag Doll, 1968

Stark Naked and the Car Thieves – Rag Doll/John Lieu designed suits

By 1968, Stark Naked and the Car Thieves’ home base in LA was the Rag Doll at Lankershim and Victory in the San Fernando Valley. The club owner, Tony Ferra, promised the band a week’s paid vacation for helping his nightclub become the most successful night spot in the Valley and among the most successful in LA. It was going to work out perfectly for Mickey, our bass player’s plans for deer hunting season. Unfortunately, when we got there late in the year, it was the LAST DOLL. Tony had sold the Rag Doll to Eddie Nash, owner of the Seven Seas on the Sunset Strip in Hollywood. Most people who read the book won’t know who Eddie Nash was, and I don’t explain because at the time, I didn’t realize who Eddie Nash was either.

(For several decades, Adel Nasrallah [Eddie Nash] was the wealthiest and most dangerous drug dealer/gangster operating on the West Coast.
– Allan MacDonell: In Too Deep. LA Weekly, 2 October 2003)

CLICK HERE TO READ A SIX PAGE EXCERPT
(from Chapter 36, THE CAT, THE COS, AND THE FAMILY STONE of Look Back In Love, tales of A Naked Car Thief)  Hope you enjoy it.

 

ALSO INCLUDED IN EXCERPT:
Following our last engagement at the Rag Doll, Seymour Heller, who managed Liberace, was gradually assuming our personal management from Jimmy O’Neill. He’d used his influence to get us a cherry, long term engagement headlining the Flamingo Hotel’s new Skyroom. It was a combination dance and show room, overlooking the Las Vegas Strip at Las Vegas Boulevard at Flamingo Boulevard, the most important crossroads in town. He wanted us to look great and he knew how to make that happen. He arranged for Liberace’s tailor, John Lieu, to help us design new suits (Burgundy ones pictured above). I thought you might like to read about how that fitting went as well.

EXTRAS:

Some other mentions of Eddie Nash:

• The character Rahad Jackson (played by Alfred Molina) in the 1997 movie Boogie Nights is loosely based on Eddie Nash.

• The 2003 movie Wonderland, in which Eric Bogosian played Nash, revolves around the Wonderland murders.

There are many more details about Eddie Nash, born Adel Gharib Nasrallah in Palestine, at his own Wikipedia entry: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eddie_Nash. Included here are the surprising number of well-known night clubs he owned in the LA area.

Cartoon showing Stark Naked and the Car Thieves opening at the Lemon Tree

The Lemon Tree – Honolulu HI 1968

Cartoon showing Stark Naked and the Car Thieves opening at the Lemon TreeI’ve been doing a lot of research for the Hawaiian chapters that’s now starting to pay off, even though I’ve finished writing these chapters. It mainly will help me go back to the chapters and enrich them.

I’ve had excellent help from a researcher named Alexis who has dug around at the state library for a lot of stuff, including this cool little cartoon that was in the April 1, 1968 Honolulu Advertiser, on the front page of the Perspective section, Hawaii’s Week In Review, Section D.

Another outcome is a chance to contact one of the surviving owners of the Lemon Tree who is also helping me add detail.

These nine weeks in Hawaii are among the most important in the book. An amazing number of highs and lows are compressed into this engagement.

Blog Party for BAND, memoir of A Naked Car Thief

Larry-photo-stillnakedHi, I’m Larry J. Dunlap, and I’m introducing my memoir BAND, memoir of A Naked Car Thief. I’ve been writing since the late seventies when I was in the business side of music. I did artist reviews and a cartoon strip for local music magazines then. Wrote my first story, a science fiction tale about built around a play-by-mail space empire game I was addicted to about then, too. I began professional technical writing after I’d gotten involved in technical training, eventually writing for Fortune 100 companies on contract. In recent years as the press of professional life lessened, I have returned to something I knew I’d have to do before embarking on any other authorial projects, a remembrance of my transition from a young Midwestern man/boy dreamer to a creator’s life in the warm California sunshine via a mid-sixties rock band. An excerpt from this memoir was published in an Inlandia Institute anthology last November.

I’ve always known it was likely I’d be a writer since I have been such an inveterate and addicted reader. For many reasons, I never attempted to write for a wide audience until relatively recently. During the six plus years I was leader of the rock band that grew out of my homespun vocal group in Indianapolis, I formed incredible bonds with my band mates. When we gathered to reminisce, we’d always remind ourselves of the interesting adventures we’d survived. I was always prompted by the guys saying, “Man, you have got to write a book about this.” As the years went by I heard from several of them saying that it was hard to talk about what we’d accomplished because no one could relate to their memories. When I could finally devote myself to this project I wanted to rectify that impression. I realized that vignettes, told out of context, sound like either bragging or disconnection. Telling our story would put it all in context. However, with our fading and differing memories there was only one way to do that, as a personal memoir. The more I settled into the project the more I realized I’d come to the right conclusion. I needed to write about my story, how I felt, what it meant to me, and let the rest of it shine through as I remembered and retold it.

My memoir starts on New Year’s Eve of 1964, though Book cover, BAND, memoir of A Naked Car Thiefchapter one covers a dangerous and violent night relating to the near hit record our vocal group in Indianapolis almost accidentally had in our nearby big city, Chicago. As a husband of two wonderful little boys and my high school sweetheart wife I loved, I was struggling with finding my creative place in the world. The environment around us in the structured world we grew up in and the hard line taken by our parents finally blew up when the group and I tried to turn ourselves into a working band. Though the first incarnation failed, a miraculous event sealed my fate and I was off to California to join my old buddies in a desperate attempt to create a rock band within a week in the seething musical chaos of San Francisco’s east bay dive bars. At the cost of the wrenching destruction of my family, the journey began that would carry us into adventure after adventure, to the top of San Francisco’s night life, through Hollywood, famous personal managers and record producers, to the heights of Las Vegas’ rock scene and the top of the largest Vegas resorts. A side trip to the Hawaiian islands found us performing for American warriors on R&R during the height of the Vietnam war, where I met a Hawaiian girl who touched me as deeply as my first love. As our status as performing stars rose, though we struggled with recording success, I was certain I’d reached the pinnacle of happiness and success. But there were undercurrents beyond my control that would bring me to the edge of sanity and the end of the music. Somehow I’d have to save my band, hope to save my new family, and try not to lose myself.

I’m currently working my way through the second edit. Memoir is a special form that I’ve come to really appreciate; I learned a lot from Wild, by Cheryl Strayed, and Candy Girl, by Diablo Cody, and read many, many others as I prepped for, and continue to write. I’ve adopted a narrative style including dialog to my memoir because that’s how I remember it even though it was so long ago. We moved through a time of great historical and cultural change the background behind the events of the story; there is no need to embellish the dramatic arc at all, it just is what it was. I hope other memoirists see their story as vividly as I see mine. I’m looking forward to finding more examples of this style to continue to inspire me.

Unfortunately, most memoir readers and many memoir authors see them as tearjerkers, while there’s certainly a low point in my story, so low that it feels more like black humor to me, I’m not looking for sympathy or redemption. Personally, I hate saccharine sweet stories. In my eyes I’m just trying to recount what I think of as a great adventure that I was lucky enough to be a part of, and survive — without judgment. To do this requires honing the skills and dramatic arts of authors of fiction. I hope from the Memoir’s Discussion Group on LinkedIn to be influenced by others who approach their life adventures in this way, and to be a source of influence to others in the style I’ve chosen.

Pleasant Hill to Hayward, California via Crow Canyon Road

Back when our band, then called The Checkmates, came to California, most of us lived inland around Pleasant Hill and Walnut Creek because the first club we worked in was in Pittsburg, CA a few miles further north and east. When we started working at the Town Club in Hayward in late spring of 1965 we had to make that trek each night back and forth from work.

Google maps, Pleasant Hill to Hayward, CA via Crow Canyon Road 1965

The hard part was the weekends. Not only did we have to play Friday and Saturday, 9pm to 2am like the other nights, we also had to be back Saturday and Sunday mornings, 4 hours later when the bar opened and liquor could be served to play a 4 hour jam session. Not enough time to get home and back so we found ways to stay up all night, at afterhours clubs like Soul City or even sleeping in the back seat of a car for a few hours. Later, to make more money we even became the house band at Soul City, which meant we were expected to play for 12 straight hours before we could drive from the East Bay back inland to our apartments.

Back then there wasn’t a freeway that ran through the mountains so we had to traverse twisty Crow Canyon Road when we were often so exhausted we would hallucinate. I remember staring out the window from the passenger side (not driving fortunately) and seeing mailboxes we were passing and losing all sense of motion and thinking they were rabbits. Going through the canyons was definitely like being down the rabbit hole. We did it for six months and in the end we had a much tighter band and a new name.

What I find particularly interesting is that in Google Maps, choosing directions between Pleasant Hill and Hayward, there is a ‘3D’ button. When pressed it actually switches to satellite view and animates traveling along the route, up and down and around along Crow Canyon to where it comes out on the backside of the mountains near San Ramon before heading north through Walnut Creek and into Pleasant Hill. Maybe I’m easily amused but I love taking that trip because it reminds me of those days. Many years ago it inspired me to write a short story, ‘The House on Crow Canyon Road’. Unfortunately through years of moving I seemed to have misplaced it. I hope in one of those motivated moments when I decide to really straighten out the garage that I’ll find it again.

The Indianapolis Times 1964

The Indianapolis Times

My last job in Indianapolis was at the Indianapolis Times. I was hired in 1963 to sell classified advertising. I didn’t realize it at the time but it was a dead end job because Scripps-Howard had already announced they planned to discontinue the paper. The Indianapolis Star, a morning paper, had already gobbled up the Indianapolis News, portending the change in the business environment. You needed to know the news before your working day not leisurely looking at in the evening.

The venerable Indianapolis Times, also an afternoon paper, held on even longer than it should have to try and keep Indianapolis from becoming a one newspaper town. Even then it was realized how dangerous it was to have only one news source (FoxNews crack addicts are you listening?).

[Location: 300 block W. Maryland Street at Capitol Avenue, Indianapolis (Marion County, Indiana)]

Life at a Dying Newspaper

I was excited at the prospect of working for a newspaper at first but my department had realized long before I arrived that there was no future in working hard at the Times. We met at 8 o’clock in the morning for a half an hour sales meeting, usually including donuts and coffee (some people surreptitiously adding a little kick to their coffee even that early). Then everyone left, supposedly to work on sales for the classified ads. I was told to ‘cold call’ car lots, gas stations, radio stations, local businesses, etc. to drum up sales but within a couple of weeks some of the old timers told me not to waste my time. I would get ads from the companies that just wanted to be in every publication but I wouldn’t get any new ads because everyone knew the Time wouldn’t be in business much longer and circulation was way down.

Everyone in the department except me was split into two groups. The golfers, who left immediately for the links after the morning sales meeting, and the rest, who left for the bars. Around 4:30 everyone would gather again for the final sales meeting before leaving for the day. That could be a hoot as the barflys could be raucous and unruly and the golfers told outrageous lies about their golf game or sexual adventures.

For me, I found that I could slip into a library and read science fiction novels or meet up with some of the guys I sang with, most of whom were chronically unemployed. Often there were enough of us to get in some a cappella practice time. 1964 was the year we had a close brush with fame after recording “In The Still of The Nite” and our trips to Chicago to support the record. In the first few months of the year we still hoped we might be able to keep recording but the Indy Sound and Jan Hutchens Productions died as quickly as it had risen. It was on one such day in the fall that I recruited Mac Brown from the Casinos to come and sing with us. At our New Year’s Eve party on the last day of 1964, knowing that the day the Times would close was near I agreed to a brash proposal to try our luck as The Checkmates (precursor to Stark Naked and the Car Thieves) singing in night clubs. So in early February of 1965 I gave notice at the Times and tried my luck as a bar singer. Though that experience was a complete disaster life was never the same again.

Display Artist

One of the best things I learned at the Times was from the display artist. I would bring him display ads and he would draw them up right in front of me. He was half cartoonist and have illustrator. His main tools were a metal ruler and a #2 pencil. He would use the ruler to tear through newspaper pages and his pencil to block out new art, write in new copy using the ruler edge, and illustrate where and when needed. I’ve always been influenced by his rough and ready skill and talent even though the medium has changed to a digital world. I still keep a couple of steel rulers around for when I work on art in article, brochure, or book form even in this digital world.

A friend who always talked about you

Back in the early 80’s, I lived in the Los Feliz/Atwater area. I spent many a night walking my dog with my neighbor Bud Mason, ne Wayne Mason, who told me stories about growing up in 50’s and 60’s. He seemed to have a story about everything. To give you an idea of how wacky his childhood was, when Oregon went to the Rose Bowl in 1958 they found out Bud had a pet duck. They gave him free tickets in return that the duck could be their mascot for the game. That was the kind of stuff that happened to Bud, and I spent a lot time cracking up at his escapades. He spoke of his days in the navy, hot rodding up and down San Fernando Road, ordering Zombie’s from a black bartender named Ben at Gazzarri’s, and rocking out to a band named “Stark Naked and the Car Thieves.”

I was just a kid back then, but the name was instantly cool to me and remains so to this day. I decided to google your band for kicks, and it is nice to finally be able to put a face to the name. Bud has been gone for a few years now, but every once in a while I think about him fondly and laugh. I have regaled my own son with some of Bud’s stories… and yes, about a band called Stark Naked and the Car Thieves.

Thanks – Anthony