Another Brush With Fame

Anne and Nancy Wilson of Heart
In December, Nancy and Anne Wilson of "Heart" performed at the opera house in Washington, D.C. in ceremonies to present artistry award to the band "Led Zeppelin." They coveerd "Stairway to Heaven," and their performance brought tears to the eyes of Led Zeppelin's Robert Plant.  Forwarding me a copy of their show, David told me,

"Did I ever tell you that Ann Wilson used to be a regular customer at my nightclub back in the late 1980’s before we [she and I] met each other?  She used to come in virtually every Monday night when she was in town when we had an open mike night.  She would bring a bunch of friends with her and ring up the largest Visa bills I ever processed.  I used to make certain the card was good every time as I had no fucking idea who in the Hell she was, but she was still fairly young – a little porky already, but acceptable – and I always wondered where her money came from.  This went on for about 2-3 years without me ever wising up, and then one day a waiter who was working for me came over with a copy of Rolling Stone Magazine in which she and Nancy were interviewed.  One of the questions asked them both was what was their favorite music venue in the world; Ann answered it was some Bistro in Paris where they evidently had a great French fag décor or something.  Nancy, however, said something to the effect that her favorite place to come was in Seattle in the U-District at a music club called the University Bistro where they had a great open mike night and everybody treated her just like an ordinary customer!  I never said anything to her about it, but pretty soon a bunch of people were coming in to see her and started hassling her to perform – which she never did – and eventually she stopped coming in.  I tried to keep people away from her table without making a scene or big deal about it,          but fans are an incredible pain in the ass.                                                                                                                                                     

After all this time, I am kind of glad I never knew who the Hell she was so I never made her uncomfortable, at least with me.  The staff were pretty oblivious of who she was also, but probably because they were high on dope and/or cocaine!"

I told Dave that my encounter with her was much more tangential.  Purportedly she lived in a house about a block downhill from my Seattle place in the Green Lake neighborhood. She drove a sports car that was the nicest on the street. But less intriguing, one of her guests, or security help I'm not sure, was a man named Robert Kirkbride.  He had been a Seattle cop, and I was the lawyer assigned to prosecuting the termination of his employment through a civil service hearing.  He had a lot going for him as a cop--he was gregarious and he was tough enough to walk a bea,twhich the Chief appreciated.  However, he and his partner got caught pocketing drugs they were taking off people they searched before admitting them to rock concerts at the Seattle center; and they spent too much time (including duty time) socializing, drinking beer and allegedly doing coke, with a petty-ante drug dealer named Randy Taylor. Taylor was on probation from federal credit card fraud charges.  When he got busted, he started naming the names of every cop he knew. Taylor was a chameleon. When he was arrested, he was scraggly-looking.  When the City brought him back from Lompoc prison to testify, he was dressed like a Rhinestone cowboy. He had latched on to the lieutenant in Internal Investigations, Mike German, as his best friend forever.  German held his nose and went along with it until Taylor had delivered his testimony. But all that is another story.                                                                                                                         

When I checked with Dave to make sure he had no objection to my repeating his story, he added this: 

"I might add that [the late] Kurt Cobain from Nirvana was a regular in the Bistro; came in a lot for lunch.  He asked me for a date when his band could play there on numerous occasions, but I always turned him down as the grunge sound didn’t work in the room due to the stage being located in the center and the bank was facing a wall less than 10 feet away.  I tried several grunge bands and it just was too loud; got noise complaints every time so I wouldn’t book them.  If I had it to do over, I would have moved the stage to the far end of the room and let them play every damn time they wanted to.  One other problem they had in those early days was that most of their fans were under 21 ... and I think most were under 12!  At least initially.                                                                                                                                                                                      

The first time I met him, he came in with [wife and rocker] Courtney Love.  He was over 21 and I thought she was younger with fake ID, but it turned out she was three years older!  They were always nice and polite, but when they had lunch – usually just a salad – they accompanied it with martini’s; the first time I met him, he drank 4 double martini’s in less than an hour and then walked out, steady as a rock.  No effect whatsoever.  Guess what that means?