Being Mel: Part 1- That Little Sharky Bites

 This is the woman who deserves all the blame! One day when I was a stock broker over 20 years ago, I was bored and told my friend Virginia in passing I’d like to take voice lessons. She mentioned that she had a friend who was teaching Linda Rondstadt. I mentioned back that I could not sing. To which she said, Give her a call. You never know.

So I called this person, Renee Grant-Williams, and booked an appointment. When I walked in the church (!) choir practice room , there she was,  her hand on an upright piano.  Up to this point all my experience had been singing Mack the Knife at three or so weddings— actually the first verse repeatedly.

“Oh,that little sharky bites…”

We talked a bit. She was obviously a pro. Very well-spoken. Had taught at the Conservatory in San Francisco, plus lots of stars. I had absolutely no business there, I thought. After I summarized in two seconds the net of my experience, she waved me forward.  Give it a whirl. I did.

“Oh, that little sharky bites…”

I was out of tune, but I did not know it. All I knew was that it was much harder to sing sober and it didn’t sound especially good even to my ears.

I waited for unpleasant sounds and words.

Without batting an eye or tipping her hand about my little atonal audition, she asked, “If you had all the money, all the time, all the luck, and all the experience, what would you do with your life?”

“I’d be the biggest rock star in the United States.”

As John Travolta said in Pulp Fiction, that was a bold statement.

To her everlastiong credit, Renee replied with a little encouraging smile,” Now, that’s a goal I can work with. Anything’s possible. Let’s get started.”

That was the sweetest thing I have have ever heard. Apparently she liked my chutzpah, and I was definitely a challenge worthy of even her. 

So start we did. Worked with her twice a week for 6 weeks, til just before I was headed to LA to start USC FIlm School. 

She made me put together a band. “You have to consolidate your experience before you go running off,” she said. She gave me one name, Kevin Hogan, who was playing with Tanya Tucker at the time. In turn, he gave me several names to call, who gave me other names to call. A hundred or so calls later I had a band.

We rehearsed three times. I had absolutely no idea what I was doing. But I booked a date on a Tuesday night at 12th and Porter on the strength of a promise, “I will pack your place.” That was good enough for a Tuesday night. December 1984.

Well, I did pack the place. All my lawyer banker, ad etc, friends came. The Curiosity Factor was 100, as was the Support Factor. I wore some baggy shorts and an orange billed cap, sang Huey Lewis and the Beaver Brown Band, to name a few, and played air guitar on a tennis racquet.

Seeing someone they knew begin and end rock songs, however haltingly at times,  was apparently enough for the biased crowd to go wild. It was surreal. Steve Bryan, friend and co-owner of 12th, was ecstatic. Tuesday was typically an absolutely dead night, and my friends who had packed the place had rung up an obscenely high bar tab. Money was made.

As for Renee, she was very pleased with my energy, and offered very graciously that I played the tambourine more or less in time. Still, she was not so forthcoming about my singing— mercifully.

Then, as scheduled, in January I went off to Film School. LA-LA land. The best film school in the country. USC. 

Certainly this was a good choice. It was a virtual funnel into the Hollywood Machine, I loved films (though I had never made one). I could do it.

Bye bye Nashville, Bye, Renee, Bye Rock. Hello Palm Trees and Planet Hollywood.

————————

Renee’s site, with all kinds of perks and pearls: www.CyberVoiceStudio.com

What the hell? A new site!

In keeping with all that is going on, it is time (actually that is putting it kindly) to give  all you MATPH fans something you can chew on! So here it is!

From the show at 3rd and Lindsley! THANK YOUUUU!