Barry Manilow

by Patricia Butler

  “So I’m really fortunate. We’ve got a good relationship. I’ve never felt this way for anyone else even though I’ve been married three times and I’ve had quite a number of boyfriends.

  “But I really feel for Barry and I think it’s because he came when I needed love and friendship the most. What he’s done for me only I and dedicated fans can understand.

  “I never used to have any friends as such. Me and my mum had been very close. And then she died.

  “And about two weeks after she died the BBC repeated Barry’s concerts from the previous January and April. I put the television on and it was as if just at that moment Barry looked into the camera and was looking at me through the television. I know he wasn’t of course, it’s ridiculous, but he seemed to know. He said to me in a private sort of way: ‘Rosie, don’t worry. You’ve lost your mum but God will be good to you. He’s sent me to help you and I will help you. If you love me and follow me, I’ll help you as much as I can. I’ll get you friends, I’ll take you out of yourself and you can start a whole new way of life.’

  “Next day I went into town and bought Pure Magic No.2. And funnily enough there was a girl’s address on a sticker on the record. She lived fairly locally, six miles away. I rang her up and she invited me to a get-together at her house the following Wednesday.

  “Joanne and I became good friends. She got me videos done, she got me photocopies of Barry which I’d missed.

  “Then I joined the official fan club. And about four weeks later I got a letter from Mandy saying she’d heard about me through the fan club and inviting me to a get-together at her place. I made more friends there and then I joined another local club where we all meet Friday evenings – we call Friday evenings ‘Barry nights’. And without Barry and all these dear friends I’ve made through him I don’t know how I could have coped with life. I mean no one can take my mum’s place, but he’s certainly done a very good job trying to.

  “And it’s not just me. He’s helped so many people. Like my friend Joyce who lost her husband and through Barry she’s been able to start a new life, make life mean something again.

  “Joyce and I have only met once, at the convention last year. But through what we call ‘Manimail’ we’ve become very, very close. If we’re upset, if we’re sad, if we’re happy, we write and tell each other about it. We open our hearts to each other, tell each other all our problems. We understand each other. Because we’ve got the same love for Barry.

  “Barry is a lover, a husband and a very best friend. I tell him everything. When I’m happy I tell him. And I cry to him.

  “But I must admit I do get very frustrated sexually. When I have a sexual urge and I know he can’t be there I often have to fight it. Joyce goes through the same thing. It can be very, very frustrating.

  “I love him. And I’d love to have his child. When he says he’d like a kid I pray to God – I know it just can’t be but I hope.

  “Every night Barry’s always here with me. Even if we don’t make love he’s lying here with me – he kisses me goodnight and that. And I think: ‘Oh, if only I could wave a magic wand and make these posters come to life.’ And if a fairy godmother said you can have one wish I’d answer: ‘Let Barry be here with me – as my husband, or my boyfriend or even a good friend.’

  “I kiss Barry’s photograph every night and I say: ‘Good-night and God bless. Have a good night. See you in the morning.’

  “I couldn’t sleep without his posters on the wall. Sometimes I imagine him in bed with me and we’re making love. I close my eyes and we kiss and I touch myself and I imagine it’s him. And I get sexually worked up …

  “When I wake up Barry’s always the first thing on my mind. He’s the first thing I see because my bedroom’s full of posters.

  “I say: ‘Good morning, Barry. Good morning, Biscuit. Good morning, Bagel [Barry’s pet dogs].’ I usually get up half-sevenish, something like that, and do a few jobs. Most days I have Manimail. I like to read it over a cup of coffee, to see who’s written to me. I usually try and answer two or three letters a day.

  “My fantasy is that Barry’s always here. The house never seems empty and if I feel like talking I talk to Barry. I ask him: ‘Do you think I’m doing this right?’ or, ‘Where have I put this?’ Or if I put a spoon down or a tea towel I say: ‘Barry, have you seen this? Now, where have you put it?’ And I have a fantasy based on the fact that I know he doesn’t get up very early. So I always shout and say: ‘Are you going to get out of bed? If you don’t I’ll pull your clothes off you.’ So he starts running around the bedroom. And I say: ‘Stop acting the fool. I’ve got my work to do. There’s a time and place for everything.’

  “And I say: ‘Shall we have a cup of coffee now?’ I say: ‘Now go and practise your piano. I’ve got some letters to write, and if you want anything, give me a shout.’ He says: ‘OK, honey, I will.’

  “And me and Barry usually do a few jobs together in the morning.

  “In the afternoon Barry always practises the piano while I do things for the club, answer letters, arrange sponsoring or just anything connected with Barry.

  “And then at night my husband comes in through the door.

  “He says it’s like entering another world. He says: ‘I never hear Barry’s name mentioned all day, but first thing I hear in here is always Barry: what letters you’ve written, what you’ve been doing, what records you’ve been playing and all the nonsense you’ve been saying to Barry.’

  “And he says: ‘I feel embarrassed to tell people at work what kind of wife I’ve got. I think you’re round the twist.’

  “He knows a girl at his work who likes Barry. I’ve asked him to ask this girl to our house. But he says: ‘I’ll do no such thing. I don’t want to be laughed at.’ I say: ‘Well, it’s no laughing matter. It’s real.’ He says: ‘I know it’s real to you.’

  “And he says: ‘The trouble with you, Rosie, is that you think everybody should be addicted to Barry like you are. When the neighbours come round,’ he says, ‘you’re embarrassing. It’s like you’ve got no other subject: Barry this, Barry the other. It gets a bit embarrassing.’

  “I say: ‘Well, I understand your sister Hilary’s got her interest in the Chapel.’ He says: ‘Yes, but she don’t go on about it like you do.’

  “I say: ‘Well, I don’t think I do keep on about it.’ You know, to me I think it’s just normal.

  “And, as I say, we’ve got separate rooms now. And sometimes I say to my husband: ‘Go and have a look in my room. See if Barry’s in there.’ And he accepts it.

  “But I know girls whose husbands won’t let them have a picture of Barry in the house. They rip posters down.

  “Quite a number of my friends have had divorces through Barry. Like Elsie and Patricia who run the fan club. Patricia’s husband said: ‘I think it’s quite ridiculous you being so addicted to a man you’re never going to meet. You’re a married woman, you’re grown up, you ought to have more sense.’ And he says: ‘You’ve got to choose between me and Barry.’ She said: ‘That’s not very hard to do.’ So they split up.

  “And, of course, I can understand men. I suppose in a way I’m very lucky. It’s as if your husband had pictures of Sophia Loren all over your flat and fantasised making love to her and kept saying: ‘I love Sophia Loren. I wish she was here.’ What would your reaction be? So you’ve got to like try and see their point of view.

  “But me and a lot of my very dear friends have got understanding husbands. They understand they can’t do anything about it. It’s been like a jigsaw puzzle – I just can’t understand it. I think actually it’s Manilow magic.

  “Because I’ve only been an addicted fan for two years and I’ve got closer to him than some of the girls who’ve been fans of his since ‘78.

  “Like at the Royal Festival Hall I just couldn’t believe my luck. I was in the fourth row, right by his piano and in line with his mike stand. And it was just like family – you forgot the people behind you.


  “After he’d finished singing his first ballad he put his arm out. I put mine out to him and he saw me.

  “And for a few moments our eyes met.

  “The person sitting next to me said: ‘Hey, you two!’ He heard her and he gave her one of his famous chuckles – which was fantastic. And all that night Barry knew I was there, you know, we kept looking at each other.

  “I cried for nearly a week after he’d looked into my eyes. Every time I played a record I saw him and I would burst into tears. It took me a month before I could listen to a record or look at a video without tears rolling down my cheeks.

  “You have to go to one of his shows to realise the magic and the warmth and the love Barry creates among his fans. When they start singing ‘We’ll Meet Again’ and all join hands you can almost feel the love. Something runs between us like an electric shock. It’s just wonderful.

  “One day my friend, Hilary, said to me: ‘Rosie, if Barry had lived 2,000 years ago who would you say he was?’

  “Me and Hilary didn’t say anything. We just looked at each other and we knew what we both were thinking. She said: ‘Yes, precisely.’

  “I think he’s the second coming.

  “He is a Jew, he comes from that race of people and I think Barry’s a very special person. There’s nobody else like him. There’s other pop stars but they don’t seem to do as much for the fans as Barry does. He’s a different sort of singer, different sort of personality. He creates a lot of love and warmth. He helps people through a lot of things in different ways – which no other singer can do.

  “And I quite agree with Hilary. My husband thinks it’s blasphemous, but I don’t. He says: ‘You’re putting Barry before God.’ I say: ‘On the contrary, I don’t put Barry before God, he’s brought me closer to God.’

  “People who aren’t fans of Barry, like my husband, think: ‘Well, he’s laughing all the way to the bank, getting richer and richer and you’re getting poorer and poorer.’

  “I say: ‘No. Barry’s getting richer financially, we’re getting richer morally.’”

  It’s interesting to note how often Barry and those who know and have worked with him will employ the same kind of language to describe his effect on others that the fans themselves will often use, though sometimes in a startlingly different context. Like Rosie, who made literal Barry’s comment about fans treating him like the second coming, 42-year-old Joanne echoes producer Ron Dante’s sentiments when he says, “The world at large takes him very seriously. People travel with him to see his show. Fans in Europe they go from place to place to see his show. Over 60 million fans can’t be wrong.” And, like Rosie, Joanne, mother of three, married to an often-absent travelling salesman, tells a story of passion and longing that again brings into play Barry’s apparent ability to fill a desperate need for companionship and love:

  “I suppose it’s the same kind of thing people get out of religion. I can’t really explain it more than that. But they obviously get something from God to help them through their lives. And Barry is – maybe I shouldn’t say it but it’s the way I feel – he’s the same sort of thing. He helps me through my life.

  “But also it isn’t just that, because I’m attracted to him as well. I am definitely attracted to him. It’s what I describe as a one-sided love affair. He’s my lover in my fantasies. He’s my friend when I’m depressed. He’s there and he seems to serve as something I need to get through my life.

  “He’s my friend and he’s my lover-mostly he’s my lover!

  “I’ve been married 20 years. My husband’s used to me being a fan because he knows what I am now. But when it first happened it frightened him and it frightened me too because neither of us knew what was happening …”

  She tells of a previous obsession with another star, an infatuation that led her to the brink of suicide before finally dissipating after several years.

  “So now with Barry I can cope better because I’ve been through it all before. When I felt it coming on I thought: I’m older now, I can cope with it. I couldn’t cope with —— because I’d never felt anything like it before. And although there have been times when I’ve been very depressed and I have the crying fits where I can’t stop crying over him, I’ve never got suicidal over Barry.

  “It helps too that my husband accepts it – he accepts Barry. This time it’s easier for him to accept …

  “I’ve gone over that, trying to analyse it time and time again. I do love my husband, very much … But Barry at the moment is something that excites me and he’s the be all and end all of this moment in my life.

  “My husband’s away quite a bit, so Barry kind of keeps me company when he’s away.

  “I imagine he’s composing at the piano and I’m just there and I’m his girlfriend. And he is so deeply involved in composing his music he doesn’t take any notice of me whatsoever. I bring him a cup of coffee and he kind of says: ‘Put it there,’ and carries on. And then he’s angry because something won’t go right with the piece and he’s angry and in this terrible mood. And I’m just sort of there, but I don’t interrupt him. And then suddenly he realises what he’s like and he comes out of it and sympathises with me, apologises for being that way. And then we make love and everything’s fine.

  “Usually we make love on the settee or on the floor–or anywhere. Not very often in bed. Usually where we are. He’s very passionate, very gentle, considerate. I can’t imagine that there’s any aggression there at all. He’s not that aggressive sort of love-maker. Very passionate, very romantic.

  “Sometimes I imagine us having a shower together. It’s beautiful. We’re caressing each other and kissing under the shower, our bodies are pressed together and oh, it’s heaven. Always so gentle and loving he appears to be.

  “Touch plays a big part in it, it really does. Touching each other is really important. It’s all done so romantically and gently. Not just for sex. It’s love more than sex. And it’s a bit like it’s all in slow motion.

  “I love his lovely, long fingers. I can imagine being caressed by his hands all over my body.

  “Usually it’s in subdued lighting, and in the open air ones it’s under the stars.

  “And it really does help me through my life. It makes life, you know, worth living.

  “He’s the type of man who would buy me flowers. He would be considerate and treat me like a woman and not like a mate, you know, like making me help him shift the settee. I like to be treated like a woman sometimes and have flowers bought for me. So I imagine Barry would be very tender and loving.

  “And I think that’s probably what I’m in love with. Although I’m also attracted to his looks and his body – I’m very attracted to his body! I love touching him all over, every part of him, and running my fingers through his hair. And I’m particularly attracted to his neck. I think he’s got the most gorgeous neck I’ve ever seen. I kiss his neck. And, I’m also attracted to his arms. People laugh at me because he’s got thin arms but I find them so attractive. I’ve got pictures of him in a sleeveless T-shirt which shows all his arms. And he seems to have such soft skin – it’s a real-turn on that is! I imagine putting my hand inside his T-shirt and his body would be very soft. I would love to touch his body.

  “I do get wet thinking about him like that, but I don’t ever orgasm. It can be very frustrating. It’s handy having a husband! I think Barry has improved our sex life if anything. To be quite honest, definitely, he has improved our sex life. I was quite frigid before but now with this fantasising it’s better for me and it’s better for my husband. And luckily he never says no, he’s always ready for it.

  “Often I look at a poster and that will start it off. I think he’s got the most beautiful body. And certain posters turn me on more than others. Some just make me happy and others I find sexually attractive.

  “I like to lay in bed at night before I turn the light out and look at them. That’s when I start to fantasise.

  “He comes into his dressing room. I’
m aware of him shutting the door and locking it. There’s nobody else there. And he’s all excited and sweating from his exertions with the concert. And there’s just me and him in his dressing room. And there’s no place to lie down so we usually do it standing up.

  “Sometimes he unzips his trousers, sometimes I do. Then there’s the one in front of the fire, on a fur skin rug. That’s after the wine and the soft music and the talking.

  “I imagine that we would talk an awful lot beforehand but not actually when we’re making love. He becomes silent. He French kisses me and kisses me all over and on my breasts and he touches me here, between my legs.

  “I’ve got no appetite whatsoever whenever I’m about to see Barry. It completely goes. I just don’t want to look at any food. I’ve always got this feeling I’m going to be sick, going to spoil things. It’s an odd feeling. It always affects me in that way, the excitement …

  “I’ve never known such a sexual element with any other star as there is with Barry. Because the fans all go for these photographs we call ‘bum shots’. It’s a sort of race for who gets the most bum shots.

  “When he was last over here he caught on, because he said: ‘Since I’ve been over here I’ve seen more photographs of my backside than of my face!’ And he sees the funny side of that.

  “With all the photographs that get passed around, the more disgusting ones the better. Like one particular photograph I got hold of called ‘the headless wonder’. A girl took this photograph of him in a fantastic black satin outfit and she was so thrilled with her efforts because it showed up his manly bulge to a treat! She was so pleased with this photograph it was three weeks before she noticed they never printed his head. She had it pointed out to her: ‘Yeah, it is very nice, but where’s his head?’ She said: ‘Oh, I hadn’t looked up that far!’

  “And that is the kind of fans he’s got. I reckon 99 and three quarter per cent of his fans are like that. They do get a great thrill out of that kind of thing.

  “But it isn’t only that.