by Shep Gordon
That day in the hospital I finally agreed.
They sent me home a few days later. Marty Kriegel was living in Taiwan at that point. He flew to Maui to keep an eye on me. He’d gone to med school, done everything except actually get an M.D., so he was great to have around. He changed my bandages and monitored my condition. At one point he noticed some excessive bleeding and got me right back to the hospital to fix a stitch. The first few nights he actually slept in the bed with me, keeping an eye on me. He ended up staying for two months. That’s a pretty good friend.
Three or four weeks into my recuperating, when I was feeling much better, I called Mike and asked him to call the movie off.
“Too late,” he said. “We already staffed up.”
So he made his movie. My agreement with him was that I would not be involved in any way, other than to sit for a few interviews and refer him to some other people who might have something interesting to say. “It’s your movie,” I told him. “Your story. Tell it the way you see it.” I did ask him to show it to me when he had a rough cut done, just in case there was anything in it I really didn’t think should go public. I wasn’t thinking about covering my own ass. I just wanted to make sure that it would not contain anything that might be hurtful or damaging to others.
It was a labor of love for him. He put a lot of time and some of his own money into it. When he was ready I went to his apartment in Soho in New York City to see it. When I walked in the door his little dog got all yappy and snappy with me. “Oh sorry,” he said quickly, and locked it in another room. It’s one of the ways I know who my real friends are. They never force me to pretend I like being around their dogs.
It’s a very strange feeling to sit and watch a whole movie that’s about you. I thought it was great, but it’s definitely Mike’s movie, his version of my life and who I am. When it ended, he said, “Well?”
“It’s your story,” I said. “Just do one thing for me.”
“Name it.”
“Take me to lunch someday with this guy Shep.”
EPILOGUE
WHEN I MOVED TO MAUI, I discovered the remote little town of Hana. You can only get there over a very winding road, a difficult, two-to-four-hour drive through dense rain forest, with dozens of hairpin turns and maybe sixty one-lane bridges. You have to want to be in Hana. I fell in love with it the first time I saw it. Hana is largely untouched by man. It’s in the tropical jungle, so the air smells like rain all the time. Everywhere you look are long, rolling valleys, dark green pastures dotted with horses, lush mountains shrouded in clouds.
In 1976, I rented the old Lindbergh cottage in Kipahulu, an unspoiled wilderness next town over from Hana. It’s a simple A-frame with lava rock walls on a hundred-foot cliff overlooking the Pacific. Charles Lindbergh had it built for him and his wife, Anne Morrow Lindbergh. She wrote her books there; he died there and is buried outside a local church, in a eucalyptus casket. Shirley MacLaine lived and wrote there, too.
At that time I was still the cool guy from Hollywood, running a big office, going a million miles an hour. I loved that Hana was so very different from L.A., so much slower and more relaxed, but I thought I still needed to be able to conduct business when I was there. The problem was, the telephone in the house was a three-person party line. I worked the phones a lot. A party line just wasn’t going to cut it.
I looked up the one phone company in Hana, which turned out to be in a house about a thirty-minute drive away. When I arrived I found a family eating their lunch. An older man, maybe seventy-five, greeted me. I explained to him that I did a huge amount of business by phone, and that I needed four dedicated lines, with a hold button. I was speaking about a million times faster than people in Hana do. He heard me out, looking at me like I was from Mars, then said, “Listen, son. You don’t need a hold button. If you don’t have time to talk to someone, call them back later.”
That’s Hana. It’s not a place you go to conduct business. There aren’t many places to meet except a few restaurants. No malls, no movie theaters, no golf courses, no traffic lights, nobody moving fast. And no hold buttons.
In 2003 I bought a share of a condo there in a small hotel complex. It sits on a long, sloping hill with a postcard view of the ocean pounding a black lava jetty. It has everything I need. There’s a little patio where I can sit peacefully smoking a joint and watch humpback whales breach in the ocean, then have dinner by candles and starlight. It has a small kitchen where I can cook my favorite meals with the world’s best produce. There’s even a small wine cellar.
For me, Hana’s a magical place where I can make believe for a little while that I don’t have responsibilities to artificial things anymore. There, your only responsibilities are to yourself and the planet.
Even though I’m “retired,” I’m as busy as ever. Every year I organize a big New Year’s Eve party and concert to raise funds for charity. They started out on my lawn but grew too big over the years. It’s a tremendous amount of work and it nearly kills me every year, but what a great time. For 2015 the charity was the Maui Food Bank. Alice and his band played, and Sarah McLachlan and Ray Benson, and my friends and neighbors Steven Tyler, Lily Meola, Pat Simmons, Pat Simmons Jr., Michael McDonald, local hero Willie K, and Weird Al Yankovic. So far we have sponsored 308,000 meals for the people of Maui. Yes!
I still travel extensively at least six months out of the year. When I’m away for long periods, I can’t wait to escape back to Hana for brief getaways. I tend to go there when I can string three, four days together. I enjoy coming with special people, and I enjoy coming alone. When I’m alone, I don’t talk for three or four days. Only in my head, to myself. Just like when I was a kid.
I think of Hana as a tuning fork. It helps you fine-tune and get yourself back into whatever natural rhythm is most comfortable for you. If you’re uncomfortable with yourself, it’s a very hard place to be, because it forces you to deal with your discomfort, too.
Whenever I’m there, I find a miracle in every single moment. There are rainbows every day. There are amazing waterfalls. The beaches are spectacular—black sand, red sand, white sand. Even the roosters crowing all the time next door is miracle stuff to me.
One evening I drifted over to the hotel for a quiet martini. While I was enjoying my drink, a couple of middle-aged hotel employees, native Hawaiians, got on a makeshift stage and started playing and singing songs. No high-tech speakers or amps. No roadies arranging lights or expensive gear. Just one guy on a faded purple ukulele, the other on an old scratched-up guitar. And they seemed thrilled, very happy doing what they liked to do, singing nostalgic, traditional Hawaiian songs to twenty, thirty people.
For me, this was another little miracle. It confirmed for me everything I’ve learned and said and written about fame, success, and happiness. I realized how incredibly lucky I am just to be alive to experience such wonderful moments.
Today is May 5. Mia’s birthday. If you’re reading this, Mia, here’s what’s happened in the family over the last few years:
Keira and her beautiful daughter Karter are living with Winona and your grandmother Terry. Karter is a piece of work. Like her mom, she eats only mac and cheese. I love her so much.
Amber is an angel in human form. She loves L.A., works in the industry, and has received production credits on a few films. She’s my go-to person when I need someone to talk to about real stuff.
Chase has been living in Maui the last four years. Lucky me, a golf buddy. He and beautiful Natasha have two-year-old Zada. She has replaced chicken soup in my life—she cures everything. She’s so sweet and Hawaiian.
Monique is doing great. Our relationship was bumpy at first. It must have been tough to have this new person show up when her mom died. I was sadly thinking our relationship was disappearing altogether when she called to tell me she was getting married and asked if I would walk her down the aisle. I cried. I have come to love and respect Mo, her husband. He’s a traditional tattoo artist—no, I’m not getting on
e—and a great cook. He loves Monique and the whole family.
You did well, Mia.
Thank you, thank you.
There it is again, those two simple words. For the last fifty-five or so years of my life I have said these words first when I wake up and last when I go to sleep, and more times than I can count in between. It still makes me feel good every time I say it.
So:
Thank you to my father . . . It’s only recently that I have come to realize how much of my journey, which at times I thought unique, was molded by the love and sacrifice of my father for me and my family. As I tried to understand why I made and continue to make choices in my life, I have come to realize that his love, and his selfless sacrifice in trying to give me a better life than he had, drive everything I do. So lucky to have had him in my life.
Thank you to all my aunts, uncles, cousins, nephews, my brother Ed and his beautiful children and grandchildren!
Thank you to the amazing mentors in my life. . . . They taught me to be thankful and to see the miracle in all things. They have shown me through example that service to others is a true path to happiness. I’m particularly grateful to Chef Roger Vergé. I can’t imagine what path my life would have taken without him. As I was writing this book Mr. Vergé passed away, and he is missed every day.
Another mentor who passed is George Greif. He taught me everything about everything . . . and made the best chicken soup!
Thank you to my clients, who allowed me to do my job without creating losers, and to help create culture and history, not wait for it. You believed in me maybe more than I believed in myself. Alice tops the list—first client, last client, and best friend.
Thank you to Mike Myers for your love and belief in me . . . for taking what I always thought of as a random life and giving it some cause and effect. Also for making me realize that maybe there is something in my life journey that can help other people get to where “thank you” has an important place in everything they do. Thanks also to all the people who gave of their time and energy to make Supermensch—especially the friends who agreed to be interviewed. Thanks for your time and love.
Mikey D, a scream-out to you. You are always there when I need someone. Thank you.
Thanks to my Alive family: Joe Greenberg, who started it all; Cindy, Donna, Gail, Bob, Joe, Allan, Danny, Noel, Carolyn, Toby, Lionel, Suber, John, and all the rest I left out.
Thanks to my Maui family: Tom and Lynn, Nancy, Joan, Melanie, Dick and Lauren, Jerry and Ani, Steve and Agatha, Owen, Chuck and Gail, Jim F., Mick F., Steven T., Mike K., Pat and Chris, Woody and Laura, Sammy and Kari, Michael and Amy, Mike Meldman and the gang at Makena who have made life on Maui even better!
Thanks to so many friends along the way who have shown me so much love. . . . I can’t name you all but you know who you are: Alice and Sheryl, Jake and Ruth, Pat and Chris, Gerry and Heather, Jim, Elizabeth and Robin, Leslie, Peter and Tara, Herb and Julie, Elizabeth and Kim, Kristine, David, Bobs (all of you), Marty. And all my Buffalo colleagues, and the old Jews lunch club: Jerry, Dick, Tom, Larry, Jim, and we all miss Bud. And a big thank-you to all the Hollywood Vampires, wherever you are.
Thanks to all the chefs who shared the journey: Emeril, Daniel, Dean, Mark, Michel, Nobu and the HRC chefs, and all the rest. Congrats, it worked!
Tony, thanks for the opportunity to write this book . . . I think!
And finally, thank you to whoever created this world we live in, for dropping me in a part of the planet where I had the chance to live my dreams. So few humans come out of the womb in a place where they have shelter, food, and safety—where they can grow and be anything they can dream of. Thank you, thank you for this ultimate gift.
PHOTOS SECTION
At age four.
My grandma Fannie Frank—I still make her matzo ball soup—with my brother, Eddie, Mom, and Dad.
My early years at public school.
Boy Scout camp (loved it) with Mom.
The original Alice Cooper band on their first European tour.
Signing with Atlantic Records for Welcome to My Nightmare, with Jerry Greenberg, Harry Nilsson, and Alice Cooper.
On the set of a music video with Alice Cooper.
Debbie Harry on the set of Roadie, a film I did, which starred many of my clients.
An early Alice Cooper recording session, with Liza Minnelli and Ronnie Spector on background vocals.
At a great party for client Rick James, a Buffalo boy.
A magic moment—being inducted as a commander of the Honor of Bordeaux by Alexis Lichine, along with Roger Vergé, César, George Greif, and Dennis Marini from Maui.
The Gipsy Kings Arrive in L.A.
Teddy Pendergrass at Live Aid with Ashford & Simpson . . .WOW.
At the Cannes Film Festival, with Prince Charles and Lady Diana.
Michael Douglas and I at a morning shower in Hana.
A tough day at the office with my assistant.
A birthday party for Sharon Stone in Maui—a wonderful night.
Family trip to Universal Studios Orlando with Ruth Stewart; and Amber, Chase, Keira, Monique, and Winona Williams.
At Universal Studios Orlando with Ella Furnier; Sonora, Sheryl, Alice, and Calico Cooper; and Winona Williams (back); Dash Cooper; and Chase, Monique, Amber, and Keira Williams (front).
Cooking for friend Robert De Niro and Daniel Secunda at Jean Pigozzi’s house in the south of France during the Cannes Film Festival.
With Peter Max, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Roger Vergé, and Sylvester Stallone at the launch of Hawaiian regional cuisine.
Dinner for Roger Vergé at my house in Beverly Hills, hosted by me, Michael Douglas, and George Greif.
Dinner for Roger Vergé.
I cooked with Roger Vergé for James Coburn’s wedding; Rod Stewart serenaded.
Tibet Fund Gala Dinner with Michel Nischan, Jean-Georges Vongerichten, Emeril Lagasse, Nobu Matsuhisa, His Holiness the Dalai Lama, Roger Vergé, and Kerry Simon.
A great night at Emeril Lagasse’s New Orleans restaurant with Michael Douglas, Sharon Stone, Emeril, and Sammy Hagar.
With His Holiness the Dalai Lama.
Opening night of Planet Hollywood Maui—an imu in my backyard.
In Aspen at a benefit for His Holiness the Dalai Lama that Willie Nelson performed at . . . a magic moment!
A great night at my house with Don Ho, Paul Stanley of KISS, and Ratan Tata. Quite a crew!
My wedding in my backyard on a beautiful night.
Solving the world’s problems with Sammy Hagar and Mick Fleetwood.
One of my favorite spots on Maui—Willie Nelson’s poker room with Maui’s finest.
With Johnny Depp and Steven Tyler at the Dark Shadows after party.
Supermensch South by Southwest party with Tom Arnold, Mike Myers, Nancy Meola, and Willie Nelson on Willie’s bus.
The original team a few years later, backstage after an Alice Cooper show—with Jon Podell and Joe Greenberg.
At my Maui home with Mo’o; Chase, Zada, Amber, Monique, Keira, Karter, and Winona Williams; and Ruth Stewart.
Filming Anthony Bourdain’s show for CNN—Kris Kristofferson was a big fan.
I was honored to deliver the commencement speech at the Culinary Institute of America (CIA) in 2015.
Golf trip to St. Andrews with Woody Johnson, Michael Douglas, and Jack Nicholson.
Another magic moment—Alice Cooper and I bought an “O” from the original Hollywood sign.
His Holiness the Dalai Lama in Maui before addressing the largest crowd in Maui history.
The original Alice Cooper band, minus Glen Buxton, inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.
Life at 70. Makena Golf Club with friends Tommy Armour III, Steven Tyler, Mike Meldman, Dante Jimenez, and Dale Ray Akridge. I birdied the first hole the day before!
More fun at Makena with Chuck Bergson, Jimmy Story, Willie Nelson, Ray Benson, and Chris Stutts.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
SHEP GORDON
is a talent manager, film agent, and producer who has worked with an impeccable roster of stars, beginning with Alice Cooper, Groucho Marx, Blondie, and Raquel Welch. He lives in Hawaii.
Discover great authors, exclusive offers, and more at hc.com.
CREDITS
COVER DESIGN BY SARA WOOD
COVER ARTWORK © TIM McDONAGH
COPYRIGHT
THEY CALL ME SUPERMENSCH. Copyright © 2016 by Shep Gordon. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
FIRST EDITION
ISBN 978-0-06-235595-9
EPub Edition September 2016 ISBN 9780062355973