There was sad news from the pop music world this week. Cory Wells, one of the three singers in the band, Three Dog Night, had died in his sleep on October 20.
(That’s Cory in the middle.)
He, along with fellow vocalists Danny Hutton and Chuck Negron, formed the band in 1967.
Between 1969 and 1975, the guys registered twenty-one Billboard Top 40 hits. They brought to radio life songs by Paul Williams, Hoyt Axton, Laura Nyro, Harry Nilsson, Randy Newman and Leo Sayre.
In 1969 they covered a song by Harry Nilsson and made it their own. It ruled the airwaves that summer.
(And the minute I hear the opening bars, I am immediately transported back in time. I am blissfully floating on a raft in our pool in Encino, California. Long story. Another post.)
And here’s Cory and the guys doing a live version of Laura Nyro’s song “Eli’s Coming.” Check out the clothes, the mustaches, the bell bottoms and the hair, man. Completely psychedelic!
Released in 1971, the band took this Hoyt Axton number and just killed with it. It not only topped the singles charts but it made it into the soundtrack of the baby boomer anthem movie The Big Chill.
Take a look.
Very nice tambourine action.
By now, I guess you get the picture. I was a very big fan.
So…
In 1970 I was newly-divorced and living in, what used to be, the marital apartment on Astor Street.
I was dating again. No big deal. An ambulance-chasing PI attorney, a big shot “Madman” with J. Walter Thompson, a blonde juvenile delinquent with an XKE and a place in Florida.
And Hank.***
*** Not his real monicker.
I can’t remember exactly how we met. I think he was a friend of my gal pal, Kate.***
***Not her real name, either.
He wasn’t too smart or all that great-looking or too funny, as I recall. But he was right up my (Carnaby) street.
His father owned a chain of trendy women’s boutiques and Hank would always give me a major FOH discount.
In the spirit of the age, I once bought a pink bell-bottom man’s suit from that store. Heaven help me, I wore it with a man’s shirt and wild tie.
OMG. But it was the 70’s.
But the thing I remember most about Hank was not that suit, believe it or not.
It was that he was the BIGGEST liar.
Everything he said was BULLSHIT.
Maybe he got started like this.
Who knows? Who cares? All I know was that Hank’s track record for telling the emmes ***about anything was lousy.
***”Truth” in Yiddish
Anyhoo, if Hank told me he had a Corvette, when I wanted to see it, it was in the shop. (And then it turned out to be a Camaro.)
If Hank told me that he graduated from Princeton, two years of Roosevelt College was more on the money.
If Hank told me that he had a swinging getaway home in Palm Springs, this was it.
And on and on.
Ad infinitum and ad nauseam.
You get the picture.
I don’t know how long it took me to catch on, but once I did, I was no longer Hank’s willing dopey dupe.
I refused to believe anything he said. I took everything that came out of his mouth with a huge grain of Morton’s Salt.
I scoffed, laughed, guffawed and scorned all of his grandiose self-serving statements. I doubted and parsed and measured his ordinary ones.
I could not listen to one ounce of his conversation without making the “Oh yeah? I bet!?” face.
So one day Hank tells me that he is friends with Three Dog Night, that they are coming to the Auditorium Theatre and that he can get Kate and me seats ON the stage.
Not backstage or in front of the stage, mind you.
On the stage.
Not only can he get us seats ON the stage but it’s going to be Danny’s birthday and can we please throw him a party at my apartment afterwards?
Yeah, right.
Hank insisted.
I resisted.
I mean, this was impossible. Three Dog Night was one of the biggest bands in the world. He couldn’t know them.
Hank begged me to believe him.
Just this once.
“I’ll believe it when I’m on stage and singing “Mama Told Me Not to Come,” I said.
It was all true.
After the concert I even managed to come up with a birthday cake with dogs on it.
You never know.
RIP, Cory.
And sorry, Hank.
Crow tasted pretty darn good with that cake.
Ellen, no joy in Mudville tonight. From your title, I thought you might be referring to this song instead. As for “Three Dog Night,” they’ve provided me with ONE of the more creative ways to clue ONE … “Loneliest number, according to Three Dog Night.” They sure were a hit machine! Glad you got a chance to see them in person.
Yes, my condolences, Mr. Met. (Or should I say “Dr. Met(ropolitan Opera)?” Now we’re both going to have to wait ’til next year. Good to know that Three Dog Night helped make a crossword puzzle’s constructor’s life One easier place to be.
Er, excuse me Ellen, as Yogi Berra allegedly said, “It ain’t over until it’s over …” (not to be confused with “it ain’t over until the fat lady sings”). Until further notice, though, I’ll be writing my puzzles in Morse Code.
Oops, sorry, Doc. That should have read “Wait ’til today. ” That what I get for writing a reply while under the influence of a champagne hangover. I was on a pre-birthday bender yesterday. Party, party party.🍾 Your correction sobered me up. Break a bat! ⚾️
Sorry Ellen, bats are so last night. For a crossword puzzle on the subject, try Halloween Night at the Laboratory, and be sure to read the midrash. But if that’s not up your alley, you can always take a crack at Dot Dash and the corresponding midrash.
Thanks for my Halloween treat, partner. Readers are hereby advised that “Dot Dash”is the greatest puzzle of all time. It’s scary good. It’s boo-tiful. 👻
The soundtrack of our adolescence. If those years didn’t happen to be your best ones, at least it was set to a great “soundtrack “. And yes, it’s too bad thst most of us have known at least one person who simply needed a fictional life to replace their real one. Interesting weave this morning, Ellen!
Nice to have you back and commenting, Mr. Astaire. I was very impressed with your star turn on “Dancing with The Stars.” And I’m sure you’re right. Every one of us probably knows this kind of fabulist.
Thanks, my friend. Have a wonderful Sunday. And that’s no lie.
Well said.
I don’t understand why people lie like that. I was helping run a fund raiser for the MS Society when I was living in Chicago. A friend of mine, who was supposedly also helping with the fund raiser, said he was going to get Michael Jordan to show up. After cross examining him for weeks, he stuck to his story. He also said there would be others from the Bulls who were going to show up with Michael. Although I was skeptical, he never backed down from his claim. When it came to the day of the event, of course, there were a ton of no shows from the Bulls. When questioned about it, he had no answer. Of course the rest of us on the committee did have an answer…he was full of bull. Turns out this guy lied about pretty much everything. Honestly, I just don’t get it. (Pun intended).
Those guys cause a lot of chaos and heartbreak. I knew a guy who kept getting engaged to women and never had any intention of marrying any of them. Lied and lied and cost them untold monies in wedding dresses and caterers and then would disappear at the last moment. He also had fabulous cars and second homes and college degrees that were completely fabricated. He was a sick jerk. Too bad for the poor women who believed him. Thanks, Steve. Good comment. No lie.
Perfectly suited for politics.
Perfectly put. And hence my Bill Clinton clip. But it’s an “across the aisle ” problem these days.) Thanks, Richard. You’re 20-20 on this one.
Back in my early dating days my best friend was the biggest story teller with the women and at times I was actually jealous of his prowess….but then my common sense always kicked in and kept me from picking up his favorite lines with the opposite sex. So much for that. Unfortunately I hate to mention it but at our age now we have been losing many of the greats in the music business….some too early because of drugs and others because of age. My personal favorite was a few years ago when Carl Wilson of the Beach Boys was taken from us by cancer. He was over shadowed by his brother Brian, who is brilliant in his own right, but Carl was the glue that made the harmony work for the group. I am thankful for You Tube where I can bring up some of Carl’s songs….especially Heaven which still gives me goosebumps when I listen to it.
Thanks, Steve. You’re so right. The Beach Boys were my youth. Sad to see a legend die. But I’ll always have “Be True To Your School.”
Ellen,
I’ve told you a MILLION times not to exaggerate!
Good one, Bernie.