Devils & Blue Dresses: My Wild Ride as a Rock and Roll Legend

over to Lionel’s, Susan and Alan and me. Once there, we were invited to attend a party in the English countryside that was being thrown for The Beatles, who by this time were as big as they would ever be. The trip through the countryside was very mysterious, and deliberately so. We were provided with a map, which had substituted visual images for geographic locations. It said things like, “travel along in this direction until you come upon the girl with kaleidoscope eyes. . . .” And sure enough we eventually came upon a beautiful barefoot maiden standing alone in the middle of a grassy field in the open country dressed only in sheer silk, flowers all about her and in her hair, and eyes the size of small moons. It went on that way, clue after clue being taken from songs on the
Sgt. Pepper
album.
    Finally, we came upon a huge farmhouse and in the drive was parked the colorful paisley Rolls Royce that carried The Beatles. I soon found out there were only a few Americans invited, and probably no more than thirty people all told. Susan, British singer Lulu, and Cynthia (John Lennon’s wife) were the only women there. The party would officially last for three days, but we only stayed until the afternoon of the second. In the main room was a massive walk-in fireplace where people gathered. People also gravitated to an upstairs living area because there were two bedrooms there. In short, it was a large farmhouse lying on the gently sloping English countryside and everything was in its summer beauty. Throughout the house were large bowls of joints and hashish, and acid was available by request.
    We settled in and after awhile I took Susan to an empty chamber room that held a grand piano. We were so excited. The Beatles! Oh my God, the fucking Beatles! All of them were there, except for Paul, who was visiting a girlfriend in America. Inside the room Susan and I sat at the piano and amidst the excitement I began to calm us by starting to play a song for Susan. The door to the room suddenly opened and in walked George Harrison and his publicity agent, Derek Taylor. We hadn’t been introduced yet and as I rose to greet them Taylor said, “Get the fuck out of here, I want to use the piano.” We got up and left without saying a word.
    Maybe Alan was right. Maybe I did lack the confidence I needed to become the superstar they were shaping, but how would anyone act if one of the gods of their age wished you to be gone from their presence? Susan went to talk to the other womenand I, visibly shaken, walked into the main room. Sitting alone in front of the huge fireplace was Ringo, who was staring straight ahead and wearing a frown. I reasoned he was not having a good time, so I approached him because I felt the need for a kindred soul and I thought he might as well. I wasn’t there for more than thirty seconds when a beastly person came rushing toward me and chased me away.
    I was beginning to feel very depressed. There I was, rejected by two of the gods of that century and the acid was now putting me onto a bad trip. I don’t think I could have felt any lower than I did at that moment. Alan and Susan were nowhere in sight so I walked away slowly and took a seat at the other end of the room but still in front of the huge fireplace. I stared into the fire, asking myself what I could have done differently that would have made them like me. I wanted to kill myself. But, as the gloom and paranoia slowly took hold a miracle appeared. A human figure appeared before me and spent the next hour repairing my psyche and covering me with words of encouragement and love. The miracle was John Lennon.
    I wish I could remember more about that hour, but drugs have kept many of the details at bay.
    Susan and I were later attacked again by Harrison, who was clearly not pleased with what he termed “plastic people.” Alan took exception in my defense, and Lionel began to get involved. The politically astute decision was made to leave the next afternoon, but I never did forget the core of love that saved my life the night before in the being of John Lennon.

Chapter 14
     
    R ETURNING HOME, DROPPING S USAN IN D ETROIT , and going on to New York City was starting to take an energy I didn’t know I possessed. There were photo sessions, interviews, a major tour to begin, and the next two moves by Mr. Crewe that indicated his obsession with the creation of what was becoming a monster to my way of thinking, but was really only the same old