As the music director of XRT in the 1980's, I discovered a steaming portion of my job involved eating. It's not as bad as it sounds since the eating was accomplished at some of the best restaurants in Chicago. A record company representative would call me and say, "Hey, my VP of marketing is flying into Chicago and wants to meet all the radio people. Can you think of a really nice restaurant we could take him to?"
Here's what makes me kind of special. I could. I could think of a really nice restaurant we could take him to.
Other times some rock artist would tour the country meeting and greeting press and radio, I would find myself at some intimate dinner with an Iggy Pop watching some record company guy demonstrate his talent for folding napkins into parts of the male anatomy. Oh the romance of the record industry.
Once upon a time, 1989, Elvis Costello was promoting his new album Spike by attempting to meet as many radio people as he could. When he came to Chicago, I was invited to dine with him and his future ex-wife Cait O'Riordan, who was once a member of the Pogues.
This was to be a small dinner. Two or three people from Warner Brothers, my wife and yours truly. Cait was a vegetarian, so a suitable gourmet vegetarian restaurant was chosen and we convened at the appointed hour only to discover that there was a problem. A big problem.
Cait was a vegetarian, but also a smoker and we had happened on a vegetarian restaurant that felt tobacco was an anathema to the purity of their cuisine. I suppose they had a point. I mean why make the sacrifices necessary to eliminate such unhealthy food choices as steak and pork chops if you're just gonna light up a cigarette anyway.
Smoke if you want to, but hey, nothing goes with tar and nicotine like a porterhouse.
Anyway, everyone was in a tizzy. Elvis Costello was in a tizzy because he was an especially attentive boyfriend. The record company was in a tizzy because Elvis Costello was in a tizzy. Cait was in a tizzy because in a tizzy was where she liked to be.
I should point out that I was not in a tizzy; I was just hungry. And I knew trying to find a table for eight at a restaurant in downtown Chicago on a Saturday night would only leave me much hungrier.
As it turns out, telling a restaurant in 1989 that Elvis Costello would like to come over and enjoy dinner changes some of the rules. When Warner brothers called an extremely popular Italian restaurant in the Melman empire and explained the situation, things worked out.
"Yes, how long a wait would there be for a party of eight?"
"An hour and a half to two hours."
"Oh, that's sad because we're here with Elvis Costello and..."
"Come right over. We will seat you immediately."
I made a note that I should dine with Elvis Costello more often. We sat around a large table and Elvis spoke expansively on a variety of topics including an upcoming boxing match between Mike Tyson and some British pugilist. Elvis was absolutely charming.
His date made that always difficult transition from "in a tizzy" to "peevish" and managed to speak not a single word the entire meal. Her reticence inspired me to ask her direct questions. She would lift her head out of her hands as if stirring from a nap and gaze at me with a combination of vacancy and contempt.
I think Elvis Costello and Diana Krall will be very happy together.