For along time now, I’ve considered writing a book titled Been There, Done That, Bought the T-Shirt about the crazy times this girl from Indiana has had since she grew up and moved away. With the popularity of the blog messages I’ve already posted in Living in an Osmond World, I thought it was time I started writing this book about my other celebrity adventures, so on Monday you’ll get the chance to read entries that will someday go into the book.
Meeting David Cassidy
Perhaps you’re old enough to remember the Tiger Beat Magazine centerfold wars. One month it would be Donny Osmond; the next, David Cassidy. For me, it was never a war as to which poster was hanging in my room—the winner was always David Cassidy. (How ironic that I grew up to work for Donny and his brothers.)
I remember the first time I ever saw David. I was cleaning my closet and watching television in my bedroom. My mother had stopped in to talk about something—who knows what—and I stepped out of the walk-in to see what she wanted. I glanced at the set where Marcus Welby, M.D. was playing and this cute guy came onto the screen. From that moment on, I was hooked.
I sat down on the edge of the bed next to my mother, and watched the rest of the show. Wow! I thought, He sure is cute. With a new boy on my mind, is it any wonder I have no idea why my mom had wanted to talk with me in the first place?
As soon as she left, the poster search was on. The closet-cleaning forgotten, I carefully went through my old issues of Tiger Beat, lifting the center staples and withdrawing all the posters of my newest crush—David Cassidy. This ritual went on through his entire career as Keith Partridge, through the time I saw him as a tiny dot onstage at the Indiana State Fair, only stopping because his popularity in the teen mags seemed to dwindle about the same time I was off to college.
But that didn’t mean I’d forgotten about David.
And in 1976, I got the chance to finally meet him.
It was a Sunday morning when my roommate Debbie and I were heading to church in Bloomington, Indiana. We had the radio on and heard WIFE announced that David Cassidy would be live in studio from noon to two promoting his new single, Getting’ It in the Streets, and to “come on down.”
Debbie and I sort of looked at each, shrugged our shoulders, and headed toward Indy instead of the church. Bloomington was less than 50 miles away from Indianapolis, so it took us less than an hour to get there. David had also just arrived.
We stood outside the station in the cold with a couple other girls, and watched through the window as David was greeted by the DJ and took a seat near the mic. The two of them chatted and David gave us a little wave. I could hardly believe how close he was, and how great he looked.
The station had a speaker rigged up so people on the sidewalk could hear the music and talk going on inside, but that didn’t alter the fact it was freezing where we were huddled to watch and listen. After a little while, someone from the station came outside and said David wanted to invite us all in.
For the next hour, we crowded into the on air booth with him. David chatted with us while the songs played and talked on air between them. I don’t remember much of the conversation, but I was in the same room, talking with David Cassidy! My teenage daydreams had come to life.
I do remember I asked him about his interest in being on the Donny & Marie Show, which was still on at the time, and he said he'd love it.
“I’ll let the Osmonds know the next time I see then,” I told him.
(I wasn’t working for the family yet, but I did keep my promise. Is it my fault it took until April 14, 2007 at Wembley Arena for that to happen?)
When it was time for David to go, he hugged us—maybe maybe there was a quick brush like a kiss against a cheek (I can't remember!!!!!) then put on his HUGE fur coat (bigger than the one I described Merrill Osmond wearing in Living in an Osmond World Part 1) and went outside into the waiting limo.
Again Debbie and I looked at each other, shrugged, and decided to follow him!
Long before O.J. and the white Bronco, we were involved in a slow speed chase, north on Meridian Street to his hotel. The limo pulled slowly into the drive and entered the covered lane for easy access to the front doors.
We pulled our car into the adjacent parking lot and stopped. David got out of the car, turned and waved at us. We waved back. Then he walked into the hotel where a few others girls seemed to be camped out at the door, waiting for him as we drove away.
It would be a long time before I again got to see David in person—September 1, 2004, in Orem, Utah, at the Scera Shell Summer Concert series—but even though this time I could actually see his face during the concert, it still wasn’t quite as memorable as the hour I spent in the radio station studio chatting with David like the old friends I often wish we were.
Ah, one can’t have everything they want from life, can they?