“Dude, look at my arm.” We were in Leif’s kitchen, and he was making us breakfast on the first day we got together to talk about the possibility of working on his book together. We got started right away talking about music we loved growing up, and we automatically both zeroed in on Goodbye Yellow Brick Road as a game-changer album. We both started talking about how much we loved the artwork on the inside gatefold, and that’s when he stopped me and held his arm out. He had goose bumps. “Dude, look at my arm.” The hair on his arms was standing on end. “I think maybe we’re going to be able to work together, man,” he said. I felt the same way.
I always knew that Leif had many amazing stories to tell. I just wasn’t sure if he was ever going to be in the mood to do it. I had reached out to him a couple of years earlier but heard back from his representative that he wasn’t interested in writing his memoirs. Not yet, anyhow. Then, out of the blue, I received a note back a couple of years later asking if I still might be interested in at least opening up a conversation. I absolutely was. Leif and I are pretty much the exact same age. When he was busy becoming a teen idol, I was into the Sex Pistols, the Stones, Zeppelin, and lots of other bands like that. So was he. You just never would’ve known it by the kind of press coverage he got back in the late 1970s.
I didn’t read teen magazines. It wasn’t until I caught part of his special on CBS in the spring of 1979 that I got a true sense of what Leif Garrett was all about. I was at a high school party and stumbled into a room with a girl. The TV was on, and we both watched part of the show. He was interesting. There was a lot more going on there than I would’ve imagined. He was funny. He seemed smart too. I’d always thought he was a good child actor. I saw him on so many different things and always found him versatile. But on the variety show there was something different about him. That stuck with me. As the decades rolled on, I would always pay attention when his name popped up in the headlines. Unfortunately, the headlines were usually not very positive. It could’ve been a car accident or a motorcycle accident.
And then came the time when the VH1 Behind the Music episode aired in 1999.
I found it riveting. I found it sad. But I also found it very compelling. Here was a complicated man at odds with many things, but also interested in trying to make a better life for himself.
That morning in his kitchen, I had no idea about the friendship that was about to begin taking hold. That’s been the best part of this entire experience for me: I’ve made this amazing new friend. I think we’ve written a wonderful book together, and that’s great. But friendships will always outlive books, and for that I’m truly thankful. When you write with somebody, you get to hear a lot. Or at least you should. If the process is going to work, it has to be very open and honest. You hear plenty of things that will never make it into the book, but you need to go through those walls to get to the other side. I’ve learned that on numerous occasions working with other people. But never have I worked with anybody who has this much to talk about. It’s almost incomprehensible what Leif has experienced in his life. More highs and lows than you can even define. But one thing I always notice is that at the heart of it all is somebody I can relate to. Just another former American teenager who always appreciated sports, pretty girls, rock ’n’ roll, cars, great books, great movies… He just happened to be somebody who got made into a teen idol. He’s an incredibly sensitive person and one of the most generous people I have ever been around.
I think the truest form of Leif I have yet to witness was when we were walking down Sunset Boulevard one night. We were early for a concert and decided to grab a quick bite at a sushi bar. On the walk over from the Palladium, we passed many homeless people. I think Leif stopped for every single one to offer a couple of bucks or a few words of encouragement. After we ate and were headed back to the show on the other side of the street, he did the exact same thing. It didn’t matter if we were running a little bit late. He took his time to help out his brothers on the street. But there was one guy out there that night who stood out to me: a young African American guy, maybe in his mid-twenties, who was not homeless but rather out there handing out his new music CDs. He had a good rap and was a good salesman for himself. When he stopped us and held a CD out, Leif took out ten bucks, gave it to him, and thanked him for the CD. Before letting us go, the guy said to us, “You better listen to that, man. You are going to love it; it’s really great.” Leif said, “I can’t wait. I promise I will.” And the guy said, “Really, many people are going to love this. The girls are really going to love this. All the young girls are going to have my picture up on their bedroom walls; you’ll see. They will listen and then sit there and stare at pictures of me.” He should only have known whom he was speaking to. Leif got a small grin on his face and said to the guy, “Listen, man, here’s my advice; you can take it if you want. Just focus on the music. That’s what it’s all about. I know it seems cool to want your picture up on someone’s wall. But trust me, focus on the music and really good things can happen. That’s way more important than the pictures.” The guy smiled and said, “Thank you, man. You sound like a man who knows what he’s talking about.” And we moved on. Again, he should have only known.
I sincerely hope you enjoyed this book. I’m proud of my friend for telling his story. And I’m deeply grateful he trusted me to help him in the process.
* * *
As always, I want to thank my family first. Writing books can be a very consuming process, and it truly requires love, understanding, and especially patience of those closest to you. In that respect, I’m deeply grateful for my wife, Jean; our son, Charlie; and our daughter, Claire. There were also many people who helped with the creation of this book, terrific resources who were generous with their time, images, etc. In particular, I would like to thank Michael Lloyd, Peter Underwood, Brad Elterman, and Tony Scotti for answering our questions. I would also like to thank Marcy Massura, Barbara Papageorge, and especially Leif’s mom, Carolyn Stellar, not just for her good company but also for her precious memories and vivid details. She has written a book herself that I have had the pleasure of assisting her with, and hopefully one day soon you’ll get a chance to enjoy it. Thank you to our literary agent, John Silbersack, and everyone at Post Hill Press, including Anthony Ziccardi, Maddie Sturgeon, Devon Brown, and Heather Steadham. Writing and releasing a book are team efforts, and we certainly have a good team behind Idol Truth. Last but not least, thank you to Leif Garrett. Dude, I am so proud of you. I appreciate your trusting me with your story, but more than that, I’m most grateful for the friendship that has grown from this project. I love you, brother, will always be here for you, and I look forward to what the future holds. You are the real deal. Please don’t ever forget that.