cover photo by Gina jett
Author Clay Eals on his wonderful definitive biography of the late Steve Goodman.
Something like this has been long overdue and it is delightful to see him not only take on the challenge, but meet it with a top notch book
The book even comes with a CD full of songs written in tribute to Steve.
http://clayeals.com/default.asp
Photo by Ian Woofenden
You¹ve been a writer for some time. What brought you to Steve Goodman?
Goodman was the best performer I ever saw, period. Ruined me for anyone else. He had a presence -- fueled, no doubt, by having death on his shoulder -- that was both riveting and inspiring. I got to see him twice, in 1977 when he opened for Randy Newman and in a 1981 solo show, but all it took was once. He wrote the best romantic, funny and social-commentary songs, his voice was uniquely compelling, and his guitar playing was out-of-this-world mesmerizing. I wooed my wife with his songs by sending her tapes. Must have worked because we recently celebrated our 25th anniversary.
How much did you know of his music before you started this project?
I had all of his LPs as each one was released in the 1970s and early 1980s. Several of his songs -- "City of New Orleans," of course, along with "Old Fashioned," "You're the Girl I Love," "This Hotel Room," "Somebody Else's Troubles," "Banana Republics," "The One That Got Away," "The Ballad of Penny Evans," "A Dying Cub Fan's Last Request" -- were indelible. His songs covered a huge range.
Do you have a favorite tune of his?
It's a tough question because there are so many stellar ones, but I'd have to cite "Video Tape." This song has it all: social commentary, humor, romance -- plus, as with many of his other songs, there are obvious references to mortality, including the fantasy of being able to dodge the Grim Reaper. It's so well-crafted in three compact verses. Each deals with a phase of time (the past, the future, then the present), and its message is profound, that life is best lived in deep appreciation of the moment. As if all of this weren't enough, he repeats the first verse, as if the song itself were on videotape.
Was it difficult to interest publishers in the project?
I have a file of 75 rejection letters from publishers and agents. To a one, when they didn't send me a form letter, they said, "We love your proposal and sample chapters, but Steve Goodman is not well enough known for us to take a chance on." It's an indication that the publishing world doesn't want us to know about people we don't already know about -- in other words, the blockbuster syndrome. But this didn't daunt me. I mean, why write the 50th book on Elvis? Goodman deserved a book, there wasn't one out there on him, so I was determined to find a publisher who realized that, as I continually rediscover, Goodman people are everywhere. ECW Press of Toronto not only took a chance on Goodman as a bio subject but also let me do the book that I felt the subject warranted, and it's a whopper: 800 pages, 547 photos, 400,000 words, CD in the back, total weight exceeding 4 pounds, not including the hand truck. I'm deeply grateful for ECW's vote of confidence, which has been validated by the fact that the first printing of 5,000 is nearly sold out, and a second printing of 5,000 is imminent.
Was there anything in particular that surprised you about Steve?
I guess what surprised me the most was how the course of my research and writing about Steve shifted and deepened. At first, I primarily looked at it as a book about a musician, and on the surface it certainly ended up as that. But if you really examine the book, the underlying theme is not music but rather mortality -- about how do we live this finite life that we're all given? Goodman's life is a lesson in not taking life for granted, mainly because he didn't have that luxury. He was diagnosed with leukemia at age 20, was not supposed to live but a few months or a year more and miraculously stretched out his life another 15-plus years. He had death on his shoulder his entire adult life. The lesson of his life it to truly live it in the moment and "get (understand, comprehend, do) it while you can." It was surprising to me how much I ended up infusing the book with this theme -- and I think the book is better for it because it makes Goodman's story something with which everyone can readily identify.
Were people eager to talk to you about him?
Oh, my, yes -- especially the litany of celebrities among my nearly 1,100 interviewees. These prominent folks are so inundated with interview requests, and they're used to talking about themselves, answering the same old questions. It becomes tiresome and difficult for them to go through the same experience over and over and still sound fresh. For them to be able to talk about Goodman was like a breath of fresh air, a repressed-memory thing. Think of someone in your own life, doesn't have to be someone no longer living, someone you knew and revered 20-30-40 years ago but no longer talk about much or are in touch with. A guy like me comes along and says he's doing a book on this person, and you're grateful to reminisce. Some people cried when I interviewed them, the feelings were so intense.
Steve had a great sense for the silly and absurd. What was the funniest moment you found?
There are so many that it's impossible to identify the funniest, but I can say that the book has literally hundreds of zingers from Steve. The guy was just "too much," as my wife says. A lot of his humor was dry, from the gallows or both.
An example, maybe not the the most laugh-out-loud, but it'll serve: In July 1981, during the major-league baseball strike, Steve was being interviewed about "Dying Cub Fan" in an empty Wrigley Field by childhood friend Bob Sirott, then a reporter for Chicago's WBBM-TV. Sirott says, "You got good seats today." Goodman replies, "Yeah, not too bad. A selection. Several days you could come out here when I was watchin¹ these guys play, you could get a selection similar to this."
Another example: In July 1982, when he relapsed, Steve's leukemia became public, so he answered countless questions about it once he went into remission and got back on the road in 1983. A typical comment: "There¹s a lot of misplaced hysteria about cancer. Did you know that one out of four people in this country have some kind of oncological experience, even if it¹s just getting a small piece of skin removed? If you¹re in a room with three other people and none of them has cancer, maybe it¹s time for you to go see the doctor."
Do you have a favorite moment, or story about Steve that you were not able to put in the book?
I included everything I could that had veracity. Thank goodness for the many people who created and shared with me hundreds of recordings of Goodman's concerts and interviews or hundreds of photocopies of printed pieces that let me to state with certainty that things happened on certain dates and at certain places. I also was fortunate to be able to debunk apocryphal stories. The only things I was not able to put in the book were a few venerated insider anecdotes that could not be proven -- such as the oft-repeated claim that Goodman wrote "The Twentieth Century Is Almost Over" by improvising it on a live radio broadcast. Not that it's not believable (Goodman was a genius at improvisation), but I just couldn't verify it.
How do you think Steve himself would want to be remembered?
As someone who lived his life fully -- and by that, I mean not living as a hermit. Goodman was a living example of how to connect with, inspire and engage other people, in the moment, creating thousands of ephemeral but profound experiences that could uplift folks from all walks of life. His vehicle, his lifeblood, was the emotional, visceral language of music. But his message transcended music and was universal.
It's important to state that Goodman wasn't a saint, and this book is not hagiography. Goodman had flaws, from at-times overbearing intensity to a willingness to succumb to the lures of the road. But endemic to Goodman's appeal was his self-deprecating humanity. Onstage and off, he was both an elf and Everyman, with wit and wisdom that trumped self-importance. One of his favorite aphorisms was, "A hundred years, all new people." Again, the lesson (encapsulated in one of his final songs): "You Better Get It While You Can."
Steve¹s courage in the face of his continued illness was powerful and inspiring. Did working on his story change you personally in any way?
Over the eight years of full-time work on this project, it became increasingly clear to me that this was the book that I was meant to do. For a long time, it was my "someday" project (everyone's got at least one "someday" project), but in hindsight it is much more. I learned from Goodman's example and advice and truly came to feel that I had to write this book "while I can." This project meant so much for me that, in a sense, I feel I can die now. At least, I can die more peacefully. There is a tremendous sense of satisfaction that has been reinforced every single day by the countless positive responses I have received. Therein also lies a danger, in that I've had to buy a new hat or two because my old ones don't fit anymore.
What is your next project?
In 1986-87, I headed production of a local history book. In 1995-96, I wrote a film biography (of child actress Karolyn Grimes, who played Zuzu in "It's a Wonderful Life"). With the Goodman book, I've done a music biography. The remaining category -- for me, anyway -- is a baseball project, and I've interviewed more than 100 people for a biography of pitcher and manager Fred Hutchinson, for whom the world's leading cancer research center was named.
But I'm not plunging further into that at the moment. Job One for me now is to snag a real job so that I can resume bringing income into the household after a long drought. I can say about the Goodman bio what Goodman himself said about his career: "If I could eat my reviews, I could retire." The Goodman bio was never about making money. If it had been, I couldn't have started it, much less finish it. In any event, the Hutch bio will get done, but it will have to be a side project and probably won't be published until 2010 at the earliest.
Finally, Will the Chicago Cubs EVER get to the World Series?
They made a run this year, winning the NL Central but getting trounced by Arizona in the League Division Series. Fortunately, Oct. 5, 2007 -- which was the day before they lost the game that dropped them from the postseason -- was declared Illinois Lt. Gov. Pat Quinn to be Steve Goodman Day, and there was a fine ceremony at the James Thompson Center in downtown Chicago.
People have high hopes for the Cubs to not only make it to the World Series but also win it in 2008, which would be the centennial of when they last won it. But I have severely mixed feelings about rooting for that. On one hand, as Goodman's "Go, Cubs, Go" would have it, hope springs eternal. On the other hand, Goodman's "Dying Cub Fan" states clearly, "The last time the Cubs won a National League pennant was the year we dropped the bomb on Japan." The question arises, if the Cubs EVER make it to the World Series, who will rewrite "Dying Cub Fan," and how?
I'm comfortable with the Cubs' fatalistic mystique that has endured all these years, and I think Goodman made peace with it as well. Other teams with similar mystique, notably the Boston Red Sox, have lost it by becoming World Series winners. So maybe it's OK for people to perpetually "sing the blues in Chicago when baseball season rolls around
Thank you for taking the time to do this interview Thank you also for helping many more people discover the delightful musician and wonderful man that was Steve Goodman.
You can find Clay''s book, "Steve Goodman, Facing The Music" online at
http://clayeals.com/default.asp