Getting Nostalgic

Oh, these are the kinds of weekends you never want to end …

Summerfest on Friday night. Summerfest again on Saturday. And today was spent on the lakefront, eating great food, jamming to music, hanging out with friends, laughing a lot and rubbing elbows with idols … Not a bad Sunday at all …

Though I would’ve loved to be up at Summerfest again tonight seeing Sister Hazel, Kates and I decided to forgo it and stay in town for our city’s annual Independence Day celebration and Nostalgia Fest, where none other than Barry Williams (aka Greg Brady) and Peter Noone’s Herman’s Hermits were appearing …

Now, I knew what to expect with Peter Noone, given my February experiences with him. But Barry Williams was adding a whole other dimension to the fun. Like just about every soul in America, I grew up watching The Brady Bunch and I‘ve become a huge fan. I’ll watch the Very Brady Christmas special every year it’s on. I remember faithfully watching the second generation Brady show (until they canceled it after like three or four episodes). I’ve got a couple more Brady specials on a VHS tape. And in high school, I even bought The Best of The Brady Bunch CD (and I’m not ashamed to admit that -- hey, it’s catchy music!) …In the same vein as classics like “Saved By the Bell” or “Friends,” you could go on and on about iconic Brady moments -- the groovy language; “Mom always said don’t play ball in the house,” the trips to the Grand Canyon and Hawaii, or “Marcia, Marcia, Marcia” -- and there was evidence of that in our conversations today as we talked about the episode where the Brady kids enter a singing competition as the Silver Platters to buy an anniversary gift for their parents …

With our company sponsoring portions of the event, Kates and I met a group of our friends and colleagues at the lakefront park just before 1 this afternoon to work our booth, promote the news and offer a load of freebies. I had created a Nostalgia Fest playlist on my iPod (music from The Brady Bunch, Herman’s Hermits and the Beatles) and we had that playing at our booth whenever a live act wasn’t playing on the main stage. All of us were dressed in our tie-dyed company T-shirts, and the weather couldn’t have been more beautiful …

We caught a little bit of The Britins, who we’d seen at Summerfest yesterday, and a not-so-spectacular Elvis tribute act before grabbing a couple barbecued chicken sandwiches from the Charcoal Grill stand. As we continued to man the booth, we watched the parade pass through downtown in the distance, continued our discussions about The Brady Bunch and even took photos of our group posing like the Brady kids during their singing performances …

We got our first glimpse of Williams, who had appeared in the parade as the grand marshal, when the parade chair cruised through the grounds with him on a golf cart and took him to a backstage trailer, where we were told he was getting some air-conditioning, eating and washing his hair …

Then a little before 4 this afternoon, it was our private time with Mr. Williams at our booth … Plain and simple, Williams was as patient, polite and personable as the Greg Brady we all grew up watching. He kindly asked about our work at the newspaper (his distinctive voice has hardly changed), signed whatever we handed to him -- CD covers, pictures, T-shirts -- and posed for picture after picture …

From there, he took the stage for a brief Q&A session, which failed to yield any new glimpses or hot gossip into the Brady clan, and then Williams was off to a public autograph session, which our company was sponsoring …While the line for his signature grew fast and seemed to stretch for miles, you couldn’t help but wonder how he remained so calm and patient. As people asked repeatedly for pictures, he declined politely, saying he had to keep the line moving. Thus, we could understand Williams’ annoyance when a persnickety older man came along and insisted Williams take a picture with Miss Wisconsin. While the poor beauty queen stood there meekly, Williams sort of rolled his eyes, waved at those of us around him and said, “Set it up.” … We did and the man got his picture of Miss Wisconsin with Barry Williams …

* * *

By 5, the line to get Barry Williams’ autograph had dwindled to a handful of people, and Kates and I went off to take in some other parts of the festival. We got some good laughs watching a kids show (the emcee had gathered a rock band of small children on the stage and placed each of them at a different set of instruments, then he unleashed them on a rousing rendition of “Rubber Ducky,” with a small boy who was really hamming it up on the electric guitar …), we pet a huge boa constrictor at the reptile show, watched the trapeze act at the circus and took a walk on the beach to see the sand sculptures ….

When we’d returned to our booth, the fondue party with Barry Williams was underway in the VIP tent. Once again cashing in on the perks of the job, Kates and I got in on it -- Cheese and crackers, little sausages, broccoli on a stick, desserts, Pepsi in vintage glass soda bottles and more posing with Barry Williams. What more could you ask for!?

* * *

Soon Barry left the party and the sun began to set, painting a vanilla sky over the lake. Our group was invited to try finishing off whatever was left of the VIP food (and we happily did so) as a tight-sounding ‘70s band took the stage. In the meantime, we tried to resist giving into the plunging lakefront temps as long as we could (none of us wanted to cover up our brilliant-looking tie-dyes) before pulling on the sweatshirts and fleeces …

Then, our old friend Peter Noone took the stage at 7:30 p.m. Very little of his show was new to Kates and I since seeing him in February -- Noone followed almost an identical script to the February show mixing all of his Herman’s Hermits hits -- Listen People, No Milk Today, Dandy, Can’t You Hear My Heartbeat, Silhouettes -- between bits of comedy (He was handing out food tickets to his bandmates while singing one of the songs). He did his “Start Me Up” spoof on Mick Jagger and the Rolling Stones, but it also seemed like he had more time to play with this time around, going on a few more tangents and doing several covers that he didn’t perform at his February show, including “Jezebel,” “Love Potion No. 9” and “Daydream Believer.”

And, hey, the show even had a little bit of controversy mixed in … The background is this: The festival and concert was free, but the festival organizers added a sweetener for people who wanted to get a little closer to Peter Noone and Barry Williams by selling VIP tickets for about $125. Those tickets got you into the aforementioned fondue party with Barry Williams and then a seat among the 20 rows of white lawn chairs that sat directly in front of the stage … BUT, when the concert started, nearly two-thirds of the VIP section sat vacant as a crowd of hundreds sat on their own blankets and lawn chairs behind the roped-off VIP area. So, obviously not wanting to look at a sea of empty seats, Peter Noone threw out an invitation a couple songs into his concert for the people “in the cheap seats” to come up and fill the VIP seats. The festival organizer promptly went to the front of the stage, appearing to deter Noone, but by then it was too late. Fans were pouring into the seats and Noone leaned into his mic to tell the organizer, “Don’t worry, I’ll pay for it, I’ll pay for it …” It was both scary and hilarious …

… After all, Kates and I learned our lesson on VIP seating a long time ago. Several years ago in Kansas City we got VIP tickets for a Barenaked Ladies concert. The sponsor advertised all the goodies -- great seating, no waiting for beer or bathrooms, yada yada, yada … But it ended up being one of the worst concert experiences of my life. The VIP seating was located behind a chain link fence to the right of the stage and half of the band's instruments and equipment obstructed our view. Sure, there were no lines for beer and bathrooms, but you still had to pay $6 for the beer and we’re still talking port-a-potties … That was the first and last time we’ll do VIP seating, and every concert I’ve attended since then I can’t keep from noticing the VIP seating is never in an ideal location, and there’s always a handful of people without VIP tickets who manage to squeak their way into the VIP seating … It’s just not worth it …

Back to the concert … Noone eventually got to my sentimental fave, “I’m Into Something Good,” and followed that with the acoustic version of “Mrs. Brown You’ve Got a Lovely Daughter,” again just like we heard it in February. Then he did the long, drawn-out crowd interactive on “Henry the VIII” and wrapped up his show with “Kind of a Hush.”

… And that was our cue to get back over to the autograph table for Noone autographs. Along with my Brady Bunch CD cover, I’d brought my record cover for “Henry the VIII” and my 45 record of “Something Good.” … Once Noone arrived, my colleagues and I filtered through the line, greeting him, getting pictures and autographs before the rest of the public could get in line. Noone gladly signed both of my mementos before we shook hands, posed for a picture and chatted briefly …I was in glory.

Back at our news booth, we took down our tent, packed away our equipment and said our good-byes after what had been an incredibly memorable day …

As Kates and I walked along the harbor and back through the quiet downtown to our car, I told her “Remind me of this weekend, whenever I complain about my job …”

Into Something Good

… Dreams came true last night.

Kates and I went to the Genesee for the “Tribute to the ‘60s” show featuring The Grass Roots, The Buckinghams and Herman’s Hermits …

Things got off to a less than stellar start when I got stuck at work later than I’d planned (… I got stuck writing about a loone who threatened to blow up the police station … ) and I didn’t get time to go home, grab my Hermits records for autographs or a camera. I got down to pick up Kates in just enough time for us to grab a quick bite at Taco Bell before we buzzed over to the theater …

We walked in just as the Grass Roots were taking the stage as the opening act and took our seats about 20 rows back on the floor near the center of the stage …

The Grass Roots were OK, but might want to think about retiring soon. Lead singer Rob Grill looked nearly lifeless and the songs -- though still fun to hear -- lacked pizzazz. All the big hits were there -- “I‘d Wait A Million Years,” “Temptation Eyes,” “Where Were You When I Needed You,” and “Sooner Or Later.” They finally got the crowd going, singing the sha-la-las on “Let’s Live For Today” and then ended the show with “Midnight Confessions.”

One of the bright spots of the Grass Roots’ show was Grill’s constant humor … Kates and I almost felt out of place as 90 percent of the crowd was white-haired and in their 50s or 60s. And Grill, at one point, said to the crowd, “Welcome to the Tribute to the ‘60s, and by that I mean you’re not supposed to be here unless you’re in your 60s …” Grill also joked about the old days when people played records, teasing us younger folks in the crowd as if we’d never heard of them. Jokes like that continued through the night with all three bands …

Next up, The Buckinghams … I saw these guys during the summer of ’94 in Kansas City, but I remember little about that show other than them still sounding really good -- not to mention “Kind Of A Drag” is one of my all-time faves. So before they came on, I leaned over to Kates and said The Buckinghams should put on a pretty good show …”

I didn’t realize it was going to be really good…

Wow. As they ran off “Hey Baby (They’re Playing Our Song),” “Don’t You Care,” and “Mercy, Mercy, Mercy” -- Carl Giammarese’s vocals hadn’t aged a bit and Tom Scheckel was a gas to watch on the drums. In fact, Scheckel was as exciting as any performer on the stage last night -- looking like one of the all-time greats, sweat dripping from his hair and beating his drums until they had nothing left …

Then, the Buckinghams really made sure we got our money’s worth … With a three-piece brass section backing the band throughout the set, Giammarese mentioned The Buckinghams were one of the first rock bands to implement brass into their music, along with Chicago. But even then, it was hard to imagine what was about to happen … They sampled a portion of “Beginnings,” paused for a moment and then started in on “Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is?” -- full instrumental intro, percussion and all. If you closed your eyes and just listened to the full band with Giammarese’s vocals, you might have sworn it was Chicago up there playing … Talk about “time enough to cry” !?

And then!!!! They broke into “Make Me Smile,” once again playing the intro, brass, drum solo and vocals to perfection!! … Talk about “make me smile” !?

By the end, my eyes were flooded. I was bursting with glee, having heard those songs played live, and played so well …

The Buckinghams ended their set with “Susan” and “Kind Of A Drag.” … Awesome.

And then Kates and I held our breath with hopes that Peter Noone and the Hermits would be just as good.

They were … Like Giammarese, Noone’s voice has barely aged and he’s still bursting with the same youthful energy he had in the Hermits heyday; at 59, Noone is still a wonderful entertainer. The band came out with “Just A Little Bit Better,” “A Must To Avoid,” “Wonderful World” “No Milk Today,” "Silouettes," and “Can’t You Hear My Heartbeat” mixed with Noone taking off on his own impressions/parodies of Davy Jones doing “Daydream Believer,” a hilarious Mick Jagger doing “Start Me Up,” and a Johnny Cash number.

“Dandy,” a song I’ve always kind of hated, rocked in a way I‘ve never heard before -- and I loved it. And I smiled and sang all way through “I’m Into Something Good,” one of my all-time faves. Then, Noone slowed things down with “End of the World” and a smooth version of “Mrs. Brown You’ve Got A Lovely Daughter,” during which all but the lead guitarist put down their instruments, leaving just Noone’s vocals and the guitarist strumming the ukulele-like accompaniment … It was pretty sweet.

Finally, Noone brought out “I'm Henry VIII, I Am” and got the crowd into it, encouraging us to shout out the verses with him again and again and again. Then he ended the show with “There’s a Kind of Hush” and took a bow …

As we walked past Noone signing autographs in the lobby on the way out, I regretted not having my records once more, but took solace in my personal conversation with him last week. And the simple excitement of seeing him performing live and up close …

Yeah. Kates and I listened and sang to Herman’s Hermits all the way home …

*Go here to read about my interview with Peter Noone.
*Here's a classic video of Noone and the Hermits performing "I'm Into Something Good."
*Here's a good read about Noone from one of the local newspapers ...

Feelin' groovy

I went to the library after work today to pick up a few CDs I ordered: Abbey Road, the Stones’ Get Yer Ya-Yas Out and the Scissor Sisters …

“Ah, you have good taste,” the clerk said as she retreived the CDs. “Abbey Road, Get Yer Ya-Yas Out. And what‘s this one?”

“Scissor Sisters?” I said.

“Nope. Don't know them.”

“They’re a newer rock band.”

“I know some 80s bands but then I know I grew up with the best music.”

I nodded and smiled. We had made a connection. She continued ...

“I saw an ad in the paper today for a guy who was looking for 33s. And I thought well, should I get rid of my records, but it’s like saying goodbye to a child,” she said shrugging her shoulders and raising her arms. “And then I see some of these people that put the records in frames and hang them on the wall ... ”

She was talking so fast I didn’t have a chance to tell her I’m one of those people.

“… and then I figure well maybe if I wear out the records, at least I can get rid of those and still hold on to the album covers.”

All the while, I’m thinking if only I could lean in and tell her I talked with Peter Noone today...

* * *

… so my phone rang at exactly 1 o’clock. I took a deep breath and answered it.

“Hello, may I speak to Mark, please?”

It was Peter Noone. His voice was still blaring with that same youthful energy that comes through on all those Herman’s Hermits records. And, oh, that British accent …

I’ve cherished Herman’s Hermits’ music for as long as I’ve been able to control a car radio. Their “Greatest Hits” disc was one of the first I bought after I’d saved enough money to buy my first CD player. “I’m Into Something Good” remains one of my favorite songs of all-time. I even named the first of our pet hermit crabs Herman. And here I was today, talking to the voice of those hits. And next weekend he's bringing his act to the Genessee in Waukegan.

So how have you been? I asked.

“Good, I’m doing extremely well. It’s been a fruitful day,” he says, telling me about his fan club and the joy he takes in responding to letters. “… I think in my business, you have to do that …”

He tells me about splitting his time between Santa Barbara and London. And I ask if he’s ever been to Wisconsin …

“For some reason Herman’s Hermits play more in Wisconsin than any other state,” he says. “That’s where we started out. That’s one of the places we worked really hard … They were one of the places to discover us really. On our early tours we played in Chicago and then we’d play all over Wisconsin and over the world.”

By the time the Hermits got into something good with their first hit single in 1964, Noone was already a household name in England, something I hadn’t realized until I started my research. He’d become a recognizable child actor in the long-running British soap opera “Coronation Street” and other television series like “Knight Errant,” “Family Solicitor” and “Monro’s Saki Stories.” As a child he studied at St. Bede’s College and the Manchester School of Music and Drama.

His passion always was the music, he told me.

“What happened was I was at the school of music and then one day this guy came around from a local TV station looking for a boy who could play piano and sing a song and I got that job. And then I was in the union and once you were in the union, every time they were looking for a young boy – and I could play younger then myself … I was into the music and I just got jobs as an actor. I never wanted to be an actor … I was on ‘As The World Turns’ and around people where I had no idea you had to be talented to be in a soap opera … I thought I could do that and tour. Then I’d realize I’ve got 30 pages of script I have to learn.”

Noone was just 15 when he became the lead singer of Herman’s Hermits, and in 1964, the band joined groups like The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, The Hollies and The Yardbirds as British rock bands who were invading the U.S. charts. Though the clean-cut Hermits never approached the status of The Beatles or The Stones, they managed to sell more than 60 million records, with 14 singles and seven albums reaching gold status.

Their hits included “I’m Into Something Good,” “Mrs. Brown, You’ve Got A Lovely Daughter,” “I’m Henry VIII, I Am,” “Silhouettes,” “Can’t You Hear My Heartbeat,” “Just A Little Bit Better,” “Wonderful World,” “There’s A Kind of Hush,” “A Must To Avoid,” “Listen People,” “The End of the World” and “Dandy.”

So I asked Noone, what were some of your thoughts when Herman’s Hermits went big?

“What went through my mind is I think I was trying hard to impress the guys in the other bands and not to the point where I thought the most important thing was to have a hit … I was very young and I think probably in retrospect I was pretty arrogant. But I was also right. It all kind of worked for a long time … I didn’t need friends, I needed hit records … Consequently it all worked pretty well for 10 years until people lose focus and stuff like that …”

By now, I’m feeling really comfortable talking with Noone. The conversation is going as well as I could’ve imagined, and Noone seems genuinely interested in answering my questions.

So next up, one of the questions I was dying to ask: I’ve heard and read the Herman’s Hermits might have been “the big thing” coming out of Europe, had the Beatles not beaten them to it. I ask him if there was any rivalry between them.

Noone scoffs at the notion there was any rivalry, but reassures me it’s a pertinent question and says he’s glad I asked it.

“That is purely an America idea, there was never any competition. Everybody tried their own style. If we had tried to compete with The Beatles, you know what would have happened? We would’ve been gone in a week. We were quite content to be Herman Hermit’s. It was really a camaraderie …We all chose to be Herman’s Hermits. We did ‘Mrs. Brown You’ve Got a Lovely Daughter.’ We probably could have done ‘Maxwell’s Silver Hammer’ or ‘Ob-la-di, Ob-la Da,’ but we didn’t … We let the kind be the kind that were the Stones … It wasn’t a rock ‘n roll league, and we were ranked No. 7 in the American League. Everybody liked each other. I tried to impress them and that’s what we did. We all recorded in the same studios, we heard their stuff, but if we were in the competition, they weren’t that interested …”

I was thrilled with his answer.

So what's your favorite Hermits song?

“ ‘There’s a Kind of Hush’ and ‘I’m Into Something Good.’ They both stood the test of time. When they were made nobody believed they would stay around …”

I was beyond thrilled to hear him say “Something Good” was his favorite. Mine too. Why, I asked.

“It’s just a perfect record to me. It was like a bunch of teenage boys made a record. It’s just absolutely a natural record. Not, let’s hope it’s a hit, that feeling … I can remember every minute of the recording session …”

What do you remember about the recording session, I asked.

“It was always extremely good fun. Everybody always said they liked Hermits sessions because they were always fun … We argued, but you’d have someone say idiot or something. We were all attempting to have hit records.”

Delving into some of the things I’d discovered in my research, I asked about “Mrs. Brown.” From what I’d read, it was another song the Hermits didn’t expect to be successful. And my editor wanted confirmation of a story he’d heard that about Hermits guitarist Derek Lekenby putting a handkerchief under the guitar strings to get the song’s signature banjo sound.

Not true, Noone said. It was an old touring tale (in fact, you can see a handkerchief under the strings if you watch this YouTube video closely), that got taller as years went by. The sound actually came from a Gretsch Country Gentleman with a damper on it. And Keith Hopwood played it.

“We threw it in because it was cute,” Noone said. “And Keith played it brilliantly …It was filler. We needed to fill up a long album … It was a song we learned from early on. And halfway through the recording session we were running out of songs. Mickey Most says ‘OK, we can hide it somewhere on the album.’ It was the same thing with ‘Silhouettes,’ we were just trying to come up with a song. Jimmy Page came up with that,” Noone says, singing the song's rolling guitar part.

I also was curious about “I’m Henry VIII.” I had read it too was a farce, a song some British crooner by the name of Harry Champion performed “with gusto” in 1910 or something. And the song apparently had a lot of verses, but the Hermits didn’t care to learn all the verses. So Noone spontaneously yelled out “Second verse same as the first …”

Noone answered: “It was an old Harry Champion song from 1911 or something. It was from all our grandfathers and it was one of those pop songs we had a reference to … There’s lot of verses and a whole story but we didn’t know all that and I just said second verse same as the first …”

He confirmed the story! Yes!

“ … It was just a laugh really, we were having a laugh. We thought this’ll be fun to stick on a record. Derek played the guitar solo and lifted the song into its Chuck Berry riff. It was his greatest moment in the music business … We were really singing the chorus but we didn’t know what the song was. It just sort of evolved and that was the best. All music should be like that and then it just evolved then. We thought it wasn’t really long enough, if we have thought ahead we could have found the second verse

So “Mrs. Brown” and “I’m Henry VIII,” were number ones in United States, and the songs weren’t released in Britain. Is it true you guys didn’t like either song?

Like the Beatles rivalry question, I get the sense I rubbed Noone wrong again, and he’s eager to dispel whatever I’ve heard.

“We thought ‘Mrs. Brown’ was a bad idea because we didn’t think it would represent Herman’s Hermits. We didn’t think it was a rock song and we thought of ourselves as a rock band at the time. But we liked it … That song was on a movie soundtrack. It gave it the opportunity to be played without being played on BBC. We knew how to manipulate the radio stations … One of Herman’s Hermits most played songs in Britain is ‘Mrs. Brown You’ve Got A Lovely Daughter.’ People begin to stand up and cheer because they‘ve heard those more than any other songs. It was a radio hit.”

But the evolution of Herman’s Hermits slowed toward the end of the1960s,and Noone split from the band in 1971. He quickly returned to acting and performed in some of Great Britain’s major theaters. In the 1980s, Noone also reached Broadway, performing in “The Pirates of Penzance.” His performance was so well received, he continued to play Frederic in touring productions of the show.

I asked him to talk about his decision to leave the group in 1971.

“The band was having a bad time with bad music,” Noone said. “It just wasn’t a good time to be in a ’60s band. I left thinking we could leave and one day come back, and I didn’t want to go from Madison Square Garden to the Holiday Inn and that’s what was being offered. So I thought let’s stop it here then like Simon & Garfunkel we can come back and play one tour a year or something … What I didn’t realize is the others didn’t have anything else they could do. I didn’t realize I selfishly stopped the band for my one and I was able to work, I was busier than everyone. All the things I couldn’t do when I was in Herman’s Hermits I can do … I needed to do all that stuff. I left the band because I wanted to go on and be on Broadway …but you need some more talent, being able to sing ‘Mrs. Brown’ and ‘Henry the Eighth’ wasn’t an instant ticket into a Broadway show.”

These days, Noone and the band stay active, playing about 120 dates a year and reeling off hits from a catalog that reaches nearly 300 songs — in addition to charming fans of all ages.

I’m one of those kids who grew up listening to my dad’s 45s and that’s how I started to like your music, I tell Noone. How does that make you feel when you hear stories like that? How do you feel about Herman’s Hermits’ legacy?

“In retrospect, the music was much better than we thought we were doing - it’s nice that you can enjoy it. I think probably, I stepped behind it for years and when I came back I was able to appreciate it more … I came back, I had to listen to the records and learn the words again. It’s kind of sad really, we kind of have to sit down and listen to the recordings and see if we can recreate that and it’s hard to do that, to play it with the same spirit as in those days. It requires constant attention. On the other side it becomes a hybrid, we don’t want to be a Herman’s Hermits tribute band, we want to be the real thing. It’s a constant challenge to do that and retain the joy of the music. It requires an hour before the concert …”

What do you think of today’s music? Is there anyone that stands out?

“We appreciate everything. I’ve got a 20-year-old daughter … now it’s all encompassing. It’s really like my childhood, like Julie Andrews in one room and Little Richard in the other -- like today’s country western and the rap being Little Richard. My parents never designed my music …whenever I played, I went …now I go into my daughter’s room and I say, ‘that’s great, turn it up!’ It’s good to be a musician, you don’t want to look a like a chump and not know everything …I even like hip hop, I turn it up in my car!”

I ask if he’s working on any new material.

“Right now I’m just really touring my ass off … It’s not like the world is saying I wonder what happened to the Herman’s Hermits … What I’m trying to do is be one of those entertainers who go out and do great shows and have people be interested in whatever I come up with.”

So tell me a little bit about your show? What can people expect on Friday night?

“It’s Herman’s Hermits and parodies of other musicians like Davy Jones, Johnny Cash and parodies,” Noone says. “People sometimes think I’m an impersonator, it’s parodies … We have 300 songs and we’ll play our 10 biggest hits. It depends on what the other bands do, and where what they do puts me. If they’re slow and dreary, I go out and do the fast show. If they’re fast, I go do the slow show. It’s based on the energy of the show … It’s different every night fortunately in the music business.”

I’m ready to wrap up the interview and say good-bye. I ask Noone if he has anything else he wants to say.

“Do you got a Starbucks there?” he asks.

Yeah, we have two of them. You like Starbucks? I say.

“I like the idea of them and I do all my fan mail there. I take a laptop …”

Do a lot of people recognize you? I ask.

“ … I’m like Paul McCartney, I like people,” Noone says. “People don’t disturb me, I like that energy. I mean, I don’t want people sitting down and telling me their life story … but that’s one of the pluses of the music industry … the people who know me, they’re adults …”

I was out of questions and glanced at the clock, realizing Noone and I had been talking for 40 minutes. I thanked him for talking with me, though the words hardly expressed how thankful I really was. He tells me to try keeping the weather from getting too cold, and we say good-bye.

I hung up the phone, as a wide smile spread across my face and I leaned back in my chair.

“Ok, Mark, who was that you were talking too?” asks a cohort sitting behind me.

“Peeeeeeeter Noone,” I say, still smiling.

“Ah, you sounded like you were having a lot of fun,” she said.

I was. I did.