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Jun092011

June 9, 2011

I was in the mood to write tonight, so I thought I’d write up a story I emailed to BBC member and MAD commenter, Gene Rubbico a while ago. It’s a story about Eddie Van Halen and it’ll be below this sentence after I write it tonight.
In April of 1992, Eddie Van Halen threw the book at me. Well, he actually threw a magazine at me, let me explain.

In April of 1992, I was working on the latest issue of POP magazine, a magazine I published out of my hometown of Peoria, Illinois for three years. In the beginning I was the editor and publisher of the magazine. We all know what editors do and the publisher is the person that pays for the magazine and handles the business end of things. I was always all editorial because I’m a terrible businessman. That year while writing an article for the Pekin Daily Times, I met Jay Goldberg, who’s a successful local businessman in Peoria, Pekin and other towns surrounding the area. The name of his company is Jay Goldberg Events and Entertainment and one of the many things he does is bring in bands to perform at the Peoria Civic Center. After I met Jay, I had a meeting with him and asked if he’d be interested in publishing POP magazine.

The magazine was selling very well, but I couldn’t get any advertising for it, because the local business people thought both the magazine and myself were insane. I thought having Jay on board would help not only the business side of things, but our image as well, since Jay had a great reputation in the local business community. So we came to an agreement and Jay came on board as the new publisher of POP. I retained my title of, “The Crazy Editor.”

One of the things Jay did for the magazine was get us free office space in a building downtown that he was helping to manage. I was working third shift and most mornings I would stop by and flirt with Lisa, the fabulous babe receptionist talk business and magazine related stuff with Jay for an hour or two.

One day in April of 1992, after Lisa told me to get lost for the millionth time I was in Jay’s office and we were shooting the shit. Jay mentioned that he had booked Van Halen for the Peoria Civic Center. One of the perks of having Jay as publisher were I got to go to any shows he produced and most times I got backstage pass priviliges.

“You know what would be cool,” I said to Jay in his office after hearing the Van Halen news, “I’d love to get a shot of Eddie Van Halen holding a copy of POP.”

Jay smiled and said, “That woud be great, but I’ve heard he’s really moody and not too accesible to the press. I can get you into the meet and greet, but I don’t think you’ll have much luck getting the photo.”

By then Jay and I were pretty good friends and he knew I could get obsessive about stuff and I think he threw that out as a challenge. And I bit, as usual.

“You know what, fuck that guy! I’ve bought every fucking Van Halen album and he owes me. You get me in the same room with him and I’ll get that shot!” I fired back, straightening up in my chair which faced Jay at his desk.

Jay laughed and he had a meeting to go to, so I went out and tried to look down Lisa’s blouse then went home and got bombed worked on the next issue.

As the days passed I got more and more obsessed with getting that photo. How cool to have Eddie Van Halen endorsing my magazine. Maybe I’d send it to Rolling Stone and they’d hire me as their midwest stringer. Maybe Eddie would take a liking to me and ask me to be their new lead singer. I’d fit right in, I’m a Kinks fan and I hate brown M&Ms too. The possibilities were endless. But they all hinged on me getting that one photo.

Finally the night came and Jay said he put my name on the list for the meet and greet. I drove to the civic center and found the room backstage for the meet and greet. It was a typical backstage civic center room, white brick walls, cement floor and kind of an overall sterile feel to it. There was a lot of people milling around and I asked a long-haired kid who looked stoned out of his mind where you sign in at. He laughed and pointed to a woman sitting behind a folding table at the front of the room. I approached her and she said, "What group are you with?" Most of the people at this meet and greet had won a radio contest where they could come backstage with six of their friends and get their picture taken with Van Halen.

“I’m not with a group, I’m a solo artist,” I jokingly replied. She didn’t laugh and just looked confused. “I’m not with a group, I’m here alone,” I further explained, since she didn’t get the joke. “My name’s Marty Wombacher, I’m sure I’m on the list.”

She checked and told me my group number was three and wrote it on a piece of paper. I thanked her and wandered into the crowd. There was beer and soda on tables and people were mingling and talking. I found Jay and took his photo for the magazine. I then saw Jamie Markley and Scott Robbins two local radio personalities. I knew them both, because I was the world’s biggest media whore in Peoria and would try to get on all the radio shows whenever an issue of POP would come out. Jamie and Scott were on competing radio stations so I got a shot of the two of them strangling each other. A few minutes after that a woman came into the room and said she would explain how the meet and greet would work.

Basically, she just laid out a bunch of rules. She said no one could take their own photos, no one was to talk to the band, when your group number is called your group should walk up to the band and she’d take the photo. Then you were to approach the table and give the the woman your address and your photo would be mailed to you within a month. At the end she stressed again, that no one was to take their own photo of the band.

“Fuck that,” I said to myself. I took my camera out of my jacket and turned my back to the people at the table and made sure the settings were correct on it. I shoved it back in my jacket pocket and was clutching the last issue of POP that I brought along for Eddie to hold. I was going to get that fucking shot one way or the other!

After her lecture on how to behave, they brought the band in. Everybody applauded and you could tell this was the last place in the world that Van Halen wanted to be. They were pointing at people and laughing and rolling their eyes. I kind of thought they looked like a bunch of assholes.

Then the woman started calling numbers and my stomach really got the butterflies. If I didn’t get that shot my entire evening and probably rest of the week would be ruined. All I would do is obsess over how I blew it...I had to get that shot.

Group number two was called and I felt a little sick, but determined. I put my hand in my jacket pocket and put my camera in my hand. I wanted to be ready, because I knew I wouldn’t have much time. Then the moment came.

“Group number three, please approach the band,” the woman barked out.

The moment of truth had arrived. I took a very big and long breath and slowly approached the band. When they saw that I was the only one in my group they all started laughing at me. Alex Van Halen turned to Sammy Hagar and said something I couldn’t hear, but I did hear basist Michael Anthony say, “It’s the Maytage repairman! The lonliest man in town!”

I laughed and walked right up to Eddie Van Halen. He looked a little wasted on probably more than booze and I quickly spat out, “Eddie, please hold this magazine up in front of you.”

He made a face and said, “Huh?”

Now the woman’s yelling at me not to talk to the band and to turn around for my photo.

I ignored her and once again said to Eddie, “Please just hold this up in front of you, it’s more important than you know!”

And then it seemed like time stood still as Eddie grabbed the magazine and held it in front of him. I grabbed the camera took one shot and immediately after I took it, Sammy Hagar said to Eddie, “Look who’s the salesman now!”

To this day I have no idea what that meant, I’m guessing it was something about endorsement deals, but it pissed Eddie off and he said, “Fuck you!” and threw the magazine at my feet.

By now the woman is screaming for me to leave the room, so I just picked up the magazine, waved her off and said, “See ya!” and headed for the door before she called security. On my way out I made eye contact with Jay and mouthed the words, “Got it!” And he laughed and shook his head at me.

All night long I was nervous that the shot wouldn’t turn out. It took me at least twelve beers to get to sleep. The next day I got up, floored it to the mall and went to the one hour film store and said I needed them processed as soon as possible. The guy told me to come back in about a half an hour and they’d be ready. I went to the Orange Julius and got a hot dog and a diet Coke and then walked around nervously. It would be horrible to have gotten all that way and then blown the shot. Finally the half hour was up and I walked back to the one hour photo store.

I paid for the pictures, and quickly ripped open the bag. I was sweating as I was flipping through them and finally I got to this one.
I ran to my car, put the pedal to the metal and raced it downtown. I ran into Jay’s office waving the photo bag and said, “I got it!”

Jay immediately broke out into laughter. We looked at the pictures and he congratulated me and then he had work to do. So I shook his hand and said, “This is going to be a great issue.”
I walked over to the reception area and started flirting with Lisa.

“I heard you pissed off Eddie Van Halen,” she said laughing as I approached her desk.

“Ah, fuck him, I got the photo and that’s all that counts. Hey, I’ve got an idea, why don’t you take a little break and we can go make out for awhile in my car,” I asked her while moving my eyebrows up and down.

“You never quit, do you?” She said while laughing.

Lisa had long dark brown hair, was really pretty and was really...uhh...well, stacked, for a lack of better words. You know the car washing woman in “Cool Hand Luke?” Put brown hair on her and you’ve got Lisa, I swear to God!

“Look, why don’t we just go into my office, you take off your shirt and just let me look at your tits. And maybe touch them for like a minute. Then I swear to God I’ll leave you alone forever,” I told her.

She really laughed at that and said, “You know I’m half tempted to take you up on that offer, because part of me thinks you’d chicken out!”

“Really?” I said as my eyes got big as milk saucers.

“No,” She shot back as soon as she saw I was serious about it. “Look, I have phone calls to make and things to do, surely there’s a can of beer with your name on it somewhere in this city, far away from my desk.”

“Now that’s a great idea, and that’s exactly why I love you!” I told her with a smile.

“I love you too, sweetie, now get out!” She said smiling at me.

I drove home, opened a beer and put Van Halen’s first album on the stereo. I always liked Van Halen in the David Lee Roth years, he’s a great front man and Eddie is a genius guitarist. But you know what? They ain’t got nothing on Ray and Dave Davies!

Further reading: Van Halen News Desk, VH Links, MTV and NY Daily News.