Monday, May 2, 2011

Run, Run , Run , Run, Runaway....

This blog post has been a long time coming. Lots of strange goings on in real life, forcing me into a writing distraction.

Anyroad, this tale takes place many (MANY) years ago, when a young Synde was still in high school (19XX, heh heh). There was a club in
Los Angeles (about 30 minutes from my home in Orange County) called Rodney's English Disco. Rodney Bingenheimer was a short gnomish kind
of guy who was completely beloved by the music industry, especially the British Glam musicians. Many of said musicians hung out at
Rodney's club—the holy grail of hangouts. I won't go on about how a
bunch of underage teens could get into a club that had free running
drank, because of course that would be illegal. WE KNOW I don't go in
for that illegal kind of stuff.

So we would dress in our Glam finery and go out to Hollywood to see
who we could see. It is there I met Joan and Cherie. Joan was outgoing
and driven with a very ballsy sense of humor, and Cherie was a quiet
watcher. When I first met them both, they had only just come to know
each other, so often the three of us would hang out and star watch.
Joan had no problems talking to Jimmy Page, but Cherie and I would
just hang back and watch. One night outside of Rodney's they told me
about the band they had been putting together. Joan had met a guy
named Kim Fowley and he had wanted to put an all girl rock band
together. It turns out that had been how Joan met Cherie. All this
time they had been rehearsing and now they were going to play live.
They wanted me to come and see them play at the Whiskey. I was both
excited and jealous. At that age I secretly wanted to be in a band
myself, however my singing NO! ( I even had a band name:
Sweet Revenge.)

So a week later, I went to the Whiskey to hear Joanie's band. The
audience was full of underage kids. (The fake ID business must have
been booming in LA that week!!) When they took the stage, Joan was
wearing her trademark leathers, and Cherie in her now infamous blue
spandex jumpsuit. The other girls—Sandy, Jackie and Lita—I didn't know
at the time, so I don't remember what they were wearing.

Finally they started playing. Let me tell you, TRAIN WRECK! Missed
chords, slow starts, awful vocals...and yet there was a seed
germinating. A tiny spark that told me something special was
happening. I remember that first time I heard Cherry Bomb, I knew it
was a hit! As bad as it was, the audience was singing along by the
end. No one could get that hook out of their heads. I didn't get to
talk to them after the show. Kim swept them away to talk to the press
and such.

Little by little I lost touch with them. A few years later I was
standing in line to see Blade Runner in San Diego down the street from
a concert venue. I walked to the street to have a cigarette just as a
huge tour bus went by. I heard a voice shout "Hey Synde" and when I
looked up to the window, Joan was hanging out of it flipping me off
(her way of saying "hi"). She pointed down the street and said, "Come
see us." I didn't though...

Cut to 2 years later when I am in college and working at Magic
Mountain. I get my list of acts for the summer and there is Joan Jett
and the Blackhearts. The day came, and Joan was nice, but her manager
(I won't mention his name) was like the worst stage mother ever...
hovering over her like a demented moth. But the show was fantastic.
Her band was tight. And I loved every second.

I haven't seen her since that night, but she continues to inspire. I
wish her all the best.

**I love Rock n Roll
so put another dime
in the jukebox baby******************


  1. Another awesome story! Joan is the best -- I would be hanging back and watching, too. Still do. My words my only courage.

  2. I wish I had your memories.
    Heck, I wish I had my memory. But still...