As the people who know me know, I have my finger on the pulse of rock and roll. I consider any modern music rock and roll, hip hop: soul, rap, you know, anything that a cover band plays at a Bar Mitzvah I’m hip to.
I always loved music but it reached it’s peak in the eighties when MTV first started showing videos. I had the flu and couldn’t concentrate for more than a few minutes at a time.
I lay in bed moaning and screaming to the ceiling ( I wasn’t a big God person even then) “Why me??” when Prince singing “When Doves Cry” came on the screen.
I fell immediately in love with him and the song. He was “Man” as far as I was concerned and the world has never been the same. I watched MTV constantly so I really knew “what was happ’nin'”.
Oh yeah, and my husband, the man who done me wrong, was in the music business too which probably added to my interest.
Now why was I saying this? Another thing the people who know me know and find very irritating is that I can’t tell a story straight, that I always go off on tangents.
I was checking out Celebuzz as I do each morning and there was a video of Ellen Grossman, the woman who met Jay Z on the train and won everyone’s heart. She was wearing headphones and listening and reviewing Jay Z’s new music.
She is everything I wish I was. Even at her age she is lovely and smart and sweet and she doesn’t seem to even try. You couldn’t help but be drawn to her. I bet Jay Z will invite her to dinner and to his house to cuddle little Blue Jay or whatever her name is.
I’ve met lots of stars, Billy Joel, Paul Simon, Miles Davis Bobby Rydell, FABIAN, to name a few and not one of them has shown any interest in spending more time with me.
I still fantasize meeting Elvis, or Bob Dylan and saying just the right thing to them to make them like me. To be perfectly honest it never ended in lunch, it was always movie star kisses, something that I’m sure a classy dame like Ellen Grossman never let enter her sweet brain.
And no one will ever refer to me as sweet. In fact when I was a case worker in the South Bronx during the seventies, my friend Ernie Matterasso once said I was the nicest and meanest girl he ever knew.
That description came about when a guy who worked with me brought me a rose. He was someone I always found annoying but I put it on my desk in a glass of water and thanked him and told him how sweet a gesture it was.
He stood at the other side of my desk talking to me and while he was chatting he kept mindlessly tidying up my desk. I asked him to stop very nicely several times to no avail. Realizing that he considered giving me that rose an entrance into my privacy I was forced to take the rose, rip it up and throw it in the garbage thereby stripping him of any rights to touching my stuff.
Ernie burst out laughing and said that that was the meanest thing he’d ever seen. In a world with Hitler I think that was a bit excessive but these many years later I can see how it might be viewed as harsh.
Something Ellen Grossman would never do.
I’m going to work on being more like her. I just hope that when I meet Bob Dylan he doesn’t touch my stuff.