Once upon a time, I worked for a bigtime, national, public radio show. One day, our music producer booked a big act, a big
ticket guest who had written a book and needed to flog it on the big show. Well, let me tell you the gang was all a-quiver because
she, the guest, was none other than Marianne Faithfull. She was one of the greats. She had written the song "Broken English"
that changed a lot of our lives. She had slept with Mick.
Well. We had heard that she was causing quite a stir in other interviews in the big city, not showing up or leaving in the
middle of an interview because she just didn't feel right. And now she was running late. Would she show up? Would she want to
talk to the old guy? Was our show cool enough for her? Hmmm. We waited some more. We had already turned off the smoke alarm
in the studio (shhhh... don't tell a soul!) because we knew she wouldn't even come into a radio studio without her Winstons at the
ready. And you know what? She arrived just in time! She talked quite happily to the old guy, in fact, they became fast friends.
The old guy didn't know much about her, but from the fine work by the production team, the old guy made Marianne feel quite comfy.
So comfy, in fact, that she never lit her cigarette! Never! And then she gave the old guy a hug. Then she came into the control
room and gave us all hugs... well, she shook our hands anyway... and said "Can I just sit here a while, I need to chill a bit."
So that was when I touched Marianne Faithfull. It's like being one small step away from sleeping with Mick. I saved the cigarette
she never smoked and pinned it to the studio wall for posterity. Years later I snuck into the studio after I had had many whiskys
with another public radio friend and stole the cigarette. And now you can all see it. Cool, eh?
Tomorrow: Tetched again.