Take Another Little Piece of My Heart by Pamela Des Barres

Author:Pamela Des Barres [Des Barres, Pamela]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Crónica, Memorias, Sexualidad
Publisher: ePubLibre
Published: 1992-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

May 6—Taking it day to day. I’m poking along after a gross bout with food poisoning (infected tuna sandwich in the car) and a forty-eight-hour migraine. I didn’t think I would allow myself such a major slump, but the vibe is so sorrowful. Michael says he’s getting mixed signals from me and doesn’t know what I want from him. I don’t know either! I do know I’ve got to get myself creative, find some self-esteem, and get rid of these second-class-citizen feelings.

V

It was music that gave my disharmonious marriage a much-needed reprieve. I was hanging out with Nick in his new bedroom, setting up his Transformers and Go-bots, decorating the walls with Japanese posters, when I got an intriguing call from Michael, who was visiting Donnie in Marshall, Texas, on the set of The Long Hot Summer. It seemed some upper-stuff New York promoter had tracked him down and wanted to fly him to New York to meet with a hush-hush rock band that was looking for a replacement lead singer. Despite Michael’s smash hit, “Obsession”, he had been concentrating on acting but down deep felt he hadn’t fulfilled his rampant rock-and-roll potential. He had previously been offered gigs with upstart or old fart bands but refused to compromise himself for the easy dough, the way he felt he had done in Detective. (It was actually very hard dough). He usually referred to his former band as “Defective” and preferred not to refer to it at all.

When Michael got to Manhattan he still had no idea where he was headed and whom he was going to meet. With intoxicating secrecy the silent limo driver had taken him to the Carlyle Hotel, where he sat around in luxury, eating grapes until there was a knock on the door. His mysterious guests were John Taylor and Tony Thompson, who explained that Robert Palmer had dropped out of Power Station summer tour at the last instant and they were hoping Michael might be able to step in. Chequered Past had opened for Duran Duran a few months before, and Andy Taylor had remembered Michael’s way with a microphone. The next morning Michael was on the Concorde to London, where he went straight to the studio and sang his ass off, spent the evening with Andy in a cloud of pot smoke, and returned to New York in a daze with a tape of all Power Station’s tunes to practice, practice, practice. They were going to give him a huge hunk of money for his services, and he would be onstage at Live Aid in front of the largest audience in the history of the universe. Michael was agog with visions of dollar signs, long overdue recognition, and legitimacy.

When Nick and I picked him up at the airport, my soul was surging with hope, desire, and longing for the good life with my chosen man. We had been through such up —and down— heaval for so many years. Maybe, just maybe we could work it out after all.

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