An Animal
Dear Diary:
Back in the mid-1960s, my best friend at the time, Peggy, and I would travel to Manhattan whenever we heard that a British pop group was coming to New York City.
We would wait patiently outside the hotel where the band was staying, hoping for a sight of one of our musical heroes. Sometimes our patience was rewarded; sometimes it was not.
I, a 15-year-old schoolgirl, once got to stroll arm-in-arm on a street in the West 50s with John Steele, the drummer for The Animals. I gave him a gift, a Mad magazine that he tucked under his other arm.
Another time I entered a shop and saw a New York comedian who often appeared on late-night talk shows. I asked him for his autograph.
He smiled.
“You don’t know who I am,” he said.
“Sure I do,” I replied. “You’re Milt Kamen.”
I got the autograph along with a huge smile.
— Lisa Morais-Knudsen
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