True Tales Of Celebrities – Diamond

Licensed to Ill

I like to communicate, verbally and visually. I avail myself to all the tools that facilitate that process. As a creative person, one with an ego that he can control at the opportune times, the concept of celebrity intrigues me. I am not trying to be famous, nor do I really want to be. One fallacy that the cult of celebrity propagates is that a craft is not worth doing unless one can be famous doing it. The fact is that craft is it’s own reward. The people who became known for did so through a combination of skill, luck, and hustling.

My big concern is why we elevate certain crafts above others and what does that mean. I’m not going to try to answer it in one post. Consider this a contribution to an extended dialogue that has been going on for quite some time. I’m not so eloquent to give answers as I am to create new questions. As someone who decided relatively late in life to start a creative career, I find that the spectrum of people who work creatively, career artists, are incommensurate with the cult of celebrity. As I said before, being famous is a different career than being creative.

I must pause to point you to Seth Godin’s blog. Wiki him if you have never heard of him. He has great tips on marketing, tips on how to be a non-obnoxious self promoter, and tips on how to be generally awesome. As I was writing out my thoughts on celebrity, he was posting his opinion on celebrity. Specifically, why we do elevate anyone to that status and what it means.  You can click through and read it.  It is short, I will wait.  It will be a nice segue way into the next paragraph.

Here goes my “True Story Of Celebrity”. The year is 1986. I had just finished my first year at Latin, and was hanging out downtown with classmates. I was feeling all growsed up. I forget who I was with that day. Dan Schlade and Billy Morrisey? Either way, near the intersection of Division and State/Rush was a Rose Records. Man I miss record stores. At that Rose Records I bought the cassette for The Beastie Boys’ Licensed To Ill. It was my first big boy music tape purchase. And I rocked out to it.

My sister is a few years older than me, and was a sophomore in high school. She always had people calling the house, and I got to know who regularly called. One day I get a call asking for my sister, I ask who it is and he tells me his name is Mike. I know my sister knows a Mike Nisk, but he’s never called the house. Hmmmmmm.

Well, a classmate of my sister’s had a relative who was dating one of the Beastie Boys back in New York. In the video for “Fight For Your Right”, I believe she’s the girl that gets pulled onto the couch and kissed by one of the Beasties (I know, I still can’t tell them apart). My sister and her classmate went to see the Beasties on their first tour (I still have the t-shirt, and it barely fits). Because they knew someone who knew someone they also got backstage passes and had some interaction with the Beasties. I’m not being intentionally vague about lurid details. From what I recall, the Boys were wasted and she only got to meet them briefly.

However, someone was smitten, because I later found out that the Mike on the phone was Michael Diamond, AKA Mike D of the Beastie Boys. He called our house. Remember there were ONLY landlines then. I answered the phone, and yelled to my sister about someone named Mike on the phone. That was pretty damn cool. My sister told me that he was calling to get together and party next time they were in town. I don’t think she took him up on the offer. Which is too bad because I could have had a Beastie Boy as a brother-in-law and always have a free place to stay when I was in New York.

If it was Paul’s Boutique era Beastie Boys I would’ve been starstruck. As it was then, I thought it was really damn cool to have talked to someone I had seen on Friday Night Videos. I probably would’ve had the same reaction if Steve Ray Vaughan or Herbie Hancock had called. Cold Shot and Rockit, respectively.

Saturated with media growing up, it’s easy to give in to idolatry. Then I started having a lot of weird human interaction with people who had only occupied this artificial mythological station. Once I started to accept my creativity (it’s kinda like coming out of the closet, but with less sex), you realize that creation is damn hard work. Add it with the realization that I’m usually not the first person to feel or think what I am, and I realized how human and chaotic the whole world was. At the root of it all is working at it, and facing insecurities and doubts about yourself.

Still, in my head, I elevate others based on their achievements working in a craft I respect and sometimes practice. For me that’s what it is all about. If Neil Young and Jack Kirby happened to be in the same room as me, I would probably start twitching and stuttering. When I did get a question out, it would probably be a question about drop-d tuning or blocking out my panels. I really don’t care about people’s personal lives until they become personal to me.

On that note, next installment of this series will tell you how I just missed being married to Salma Hayek. True story. The fact that I am not is totally my sister’s fault too.