Shell Shocked: My Life with the Turtles, Flo and Eddie, and Frank Zappa, etc. by Howard Kaylan

Author:Howard Kaylan [Kaylan, Howard]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: BIO004000; MUS035000
ISBN: 9781480342934
Publisher: Backbeat Books
Published: 2013-03-18T04:00:00+00:00

SEVENTEEN

A Car Shaped Like an Enormous Penis, Sounds Like Good, Clean Family Fun

For the time being, all the domestic stuff was moved to the back burner. As the first of the year came and went, our attorney Paul Almond was poring over the contracts for Frank’s 200 Motels movie. We hadn’t read the script. Hell, there wasn’t a script. There was only Frank’s assurance that there would be a script by the time we arrived at Pinewood Studios, outside of London, to film what would now be a United Artists release.

It was back to London, courtesy of Air India, on January 14 of what was to become a seminal year. We got to Kensington Palace around 1:30 and I was unpacked and in bed an hour later. But I was ready to party when June Bolan phoned at 9:30. Off to the Speakeasy for dinner and cognac. I ate, I laughed, I puked. I love London.

We finally got our scripts on Saturday night, and by Sunday afternoon, Jeff Simmons had quit the band. He and his wife, Brina, had looked over Frank’s words and she, in particular, was convinced that Jeff would be throwing his life away if he participated in the making of this travesty. In the script, the character of Jeff is contemplating leaving the Mothers of Invention based on Frank’s desire to play comedy music. He expresses his contempt for the entire genre in a speech that both he and Brina had decided would make him look extremely bad.

“No way I’m going to play this comedy music, man. I didn’t join this band to become a laughingstock. I want to play the blues, man. Zappa’s old. He’s almost thirty, for God’s sake. He just doesn’t get it. We should take up a collection and buy him a watch!”

That’s how the script read.

Brina was even more insistent than Jeff had been. “Jeff’s not going to say that stuff. It makes him sound like an idiot. He joined this band to be a musician, not a goddamned comedian. And he would never say anything like that. He’s got more class than that!”

Frank was not amused. In fact, he was genuinely bewildered. He nodded toward Mark, who produced his own portable tape recorder and flipped it on. And we heard Jeff speaking in a taxi en route to the Dorchester last year.

“No way I’m going to play this comedy music, man. I want to play the blues. Zappa’s old….” It was all there. Brina turned red and stomped out of the room. From the hallway she yelled, “Are you coming, Jeff? Let’s go home.”

And he got up, said nothing, and followed her back to Seattle. Now we were all trapped in England without a major player in a movie that was to start shooting in just a few days. Without him, there would be no movie. How could that bastard do this to us? We were up Shit Creek and Simmons hadn’t even left us a paddle. He was intentionally

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