Alan Merrill Online

Alan Merrill · Owner

Since my last journal entry there has been been a disastrous storm in the form of a huge hurricane named Katrina, which hit hardest in New Orleans, Louisianna. Also devastated were the surrounding states, Missouri, North Carolina and more.
Many people died, and the government at all levels were seemingly dazed, unprepared, and phenomenally slow to react. I won't get into politics here, but a great vulnerability was exposed in the USA's reaction time to disaster, and I'm certain it caused great embarrassment right up to the top of government. At least one would hope so.

But this is a rock n roll forum, and so I'll steer back on topic.

The Ron Wood project I've been doing recently and the attention New Orleans has been getting in the news brought back some bitter-sweet and funny memories. The mix of the names Ron Wood and the city of New Orleans remind me of a unique event that occured there many years ago.

I experienced a miracle in New Orleans!

I'll never forget the first time I played in that city with (Rick) Derringer.
It was also the first time I'd had a mixed drink popular in the area, a beverage ironically called a "hurricane." My guitar roadie, a wonderful and clever character named Chris Snider, introduced me to my first frozen New Orleans hurricane. It's a mix of many different liquors, quite fruity sweet, and it goes down rather easily. The effect of a couple of hurricanes can sneak up on you like a rattlesnake and when it finally bites, you feel numb and loose all over. This was at a bar near the hotel, in the afternoon before the soundcheck for the evening's show we would play.

We were staying at the Marie Antoinette Hotel in the French Quarter, a lovely hotel with balconies outside the window of every room, with frilly French curtains and ornate furniture.

The drink called "hurricane" knocked me out, so I napped for an hour or so afterwards, then when I woke up I showered and got ready for the show.
The Derringer band at the time was Rick Derringer (guitar/vocals), Donnie Kisselbach (bass/vocals), Jimmy Wilcox (drums/vocals), and myself (guitar/vocals). We, the band and road crew, were a travelling circus of non stop, 24 hours a day, seven days a week debauchery.

(Photo l-r / Alan, Rick, Donnie and Jimmy. click below link for photo)
http://www.the-aleecat.com/Derringerband82.jpg

When we played the show that night, it was terrific. I can't recall the venue name right now. It was a fair sized club and the audience were very appreciative. We did our last song, an extended version of "Rock 'N Roll Hoochie Koo" and got off stage, sequestering ourselves in the backstage area. At that time the sound man Mark Roman (who also owned the PA sound company we used) came back and asked if everything had gone all right with our monitors, and the sound in general on stage. The crowd were still cheering, so it was obvious we'd have to go back up for an encore.
Rick said "let's go back on and do Sloopy," meaning his number one 60s hit he'd had as lead singer of The McCoys, "Hang On Sloopy."
As I was heading toward the stage the soundman pulled me aside and said "there's this girl, and she's beautiful and she wants you. She says she's a virgin." I chuckled. Sure, I thought, a virgin in New Orleans, a virgin who's old enough to get into an 18 and over only club.
We got back onstage and did "Hang On Sloopy" and one more song called "Beyond The Universe."

-(Photo - Me and Rick Derringer, 1982, click link below)-
http://www.the-aleecat.com/Merringer.jpg

I had my usual vodka rocks after the show and after we dried off the stage sweat, friends and fans were allowed in to come backstage and chat with us.
Soundman Mark Roman came in with a gorgeous young girl, and he introduced me to her. "Alan, this is Mirthe" he said. I asked her what kind of a name that was, and she sad it was Spanish, and that it meant rose. She had long black hair and large dark eyes, was slim and sexy, dressed simply in tight jeans and a tee shirt. It was obvious that she had a nice figure, her clothes clung to her body so tightly there was no way to hide it. She actually looked like a beauty contest winner, with a symmetrical and aesthetically perfect face.
I talked to her for a while, and she told me, directly, looking me straight in the eyes, that she was a virgin. She had hoped to lose her virginity to Ron Wood of the Rolling Stones, but he was too hard to get to meet. She said I reminded her of Ron Wood that night on stage. I was happy that I had spiked my hair up Woody style with mousse and gel that night. I was thin, with spiky hair, wore rock n roll clothes, and I chain smoked Marlboros, the end result giving me a Ron Wood-ish persona, at least I guess so. She thought so that night, certainly.
She didn't come right out and say that she wanted me to be her first lover, but the hints were more than strong, and if I couldn't read the writing on the wall it would only be for blindness.

The van was getting ready to take the band back to the hotel. I declined and took a ride with Mirthe instead. She drove me around New Orleans and told me of some of the city's history, which was interesting. I still had a large plastic cup with me in her car, which was filled with vodka and ice, and I was taking long hard pulls on it, trying to focus on what she was saying. My attention kept straying out the window at the sights, then to her steering wheel, then to her legs and the little triangle at the top of them. I was wondering (no, actually it was more like obsessing) if she actually was a virgin behind that zipper on her designer jeans.

We got back to the hotel, and we sat on the bacony of my room for a while talking, smoking cigarettes, and drinking from the mini bar. Then it started, the kissing, and hugging. One thing led to another and of course on to the canopied bed. I was a bit tipsy and used to a daily revolving door of having casual affairs with groupies, but I was instinctively more gentle that night, just in case what she had said was true. I made it as romantic as possible, and took my time, giving her as much loving attention as anyone can under the circumstances.
Well, it was true, she was obviously (no details!) a virgin, and she gave her virginity to me that night. It was a very sweet experience. We made love until the sun came up and right up until I got the call to get ready to pack up and move out to the next town from the tour manager.
I never saw her or heard from her again. We didn't exchange numbers. She walked me to the tour bus in the morning, we hugged and said a mutually teary goodbye. We both knew this was a one time thing, but also a once in a lifetime thing.
I had experienced a miracle in New Orleans, a 19 year old virgin, a good Catholic school girl who was smart and pretty. Fate had saved her for me.
I was very lucky.

The band bus was off to Thibideaux, Louisianna, where we'd play another show. It would go on, this touring and dedicated daily hedonism for months in a row, in different venues across the United States. Down the east coast to Florida, on to Texas, over to California, then up the coast to Washington State and back over the northeast coast, all the way home to New York. As crazy as touring gets, some things happen that will inevitably be impossible to remember. Then again there are some things that are impossible to forget.

Mirthe, wherever you are, thank you.

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