

Why I don't play "American Pie" on My Show

- by Andy Breckman, illustrations by Gary Leib





Here's another true story from my pathetic show business career. This one is about Don McLean. You know, the "American Pie" guy. And why I think he's an asshole. And why you should, too.



I started out as a folkie. I thought I was Bob Dylan. None of my so-called friends had the fucking courtesy to tell me I wasn't Bob Dylan. Anyway, I figured what I needed was a big-time show biz manager, so I sent out a bunch of demo tapes. And it worked -- I got a call from a guy named Herb Gart.



Herb was well-known in folk circles. He used to manage a bunch of big-name acts, like the Youngbloods and Janis Ian. But everyone gradually left him. When I signed with him in 1979, he had only one semi-famous star left in his roster: Don McLean.



Don McLean was already old news here in the States. But they still loved him in Norway. Go figure. And Israel. And Canada. In the spring of 1980, McLean was scheduled to do a ten-city tour of western Canada. Herb arranged for me to go along as the opening act.



On tour with Don McLean! It was the biggest thing that ever happened to me. I fantasized about hanging out with him. And co-writing with him. And becoming sort of his protege'.



But my dream tour was a disaster and I'll tell you why. Don McLean -- Mr. "Starry Starry Night" -- Mr. "And I Love Her So" -- turned out to be the most bitter, petty, insecure scumbag I ever met.



The tour started like this: we were on the plane. McLean glanced out the window. he said he saw a shooting star. I said make a wish. He said "I did, but it didn't work. You're still here."



It was downhill from there. During the day, McLean complained constantly. He humiliated Ray, our tour manager. He mocked "lesser" singer-songwriters, like Bob Dylan and Bruce Springsteen. At night, he picked up young, woeful-looking Canadian folk groupies and brought them back to his room for what he called "dick autographs."



He wasn't just bitter. He was nuts. I mean certifiable. For example, he had a lame movie idea. He wanted to play a singing cowboy, like a modern day Roy Rogers. And he would fight crime.



Then he remembered something. He had recently done the music for a movie called "Fraternity Row." While he was on the set, he had met John Ritter and mentioned his 'singing cowboy' idea. McLean became obsessed: what if Ritter stole the idea?



For two days, it was all he talked about. John Ritter stealing his stupid idea. Should he have a lawyer write Ritter a threatening letter? Is there a way to backdate a copyright? It was spooky. His obsession wasn't based on anything. He had only met Mr. Ritter once. And Riter never expressed any interest in the idea. I was on tour with Norman Bates' older brother.



The nightmare continued. Once morning in Calgary, I met McLean in the lobby of our hotel. He had bought a local paper, and was reading a review of our show. But he wouldn't let me see it. All he said was "Well, they hated us." Then he crumpled up the newspaper and threw it away.



After he left, I fished the paper out of the garbage. It's true, the reviewer did hate McLean. He called McLean pompous and out of touch. But the reviewer LOVED the opening act! It was one of the first rave reviews I'd ever gotten, and McLean didn't want me to see it.



Every night, during my set, as a joke, I sang a couple of verses of "American Pie." Then I said, "Gosh, I hope Don hadn't planned on singing that one." It always got a huge laugh. I asked Don if he minded the joke. He said he didn't.



But I guess he did. On the last show of the tour, I was introduced as "Don's special guest." I came out. I did my set, including my little 'American Pie" joke. Then McLean came out. I sat in the back of the auditorium and watched. McLean ended the show by saying" "Thank you. I'll be back next year. And I won't be bringing my special guest."



The crowd gasped. Try to imagine it: the headliner at a folk concert - for no apparent reason - putting down his opening act from the stage!



I was devastated. I confronted McLean backstage. Why would he say such a thing? He just snapped, "You play with me -- you play with fire -- and you just got burned." Then he walked away. I still don't know what the hell he meant.



The tour ended. After that, I avoided ol' Don like the plague. In the '80's, the music community mounted a string of mega- concerts for various causes - Live Aid, We Are The World, etc. Herb Gart put out the word: Don McLean was available. But the phone never rang. Herb and Don couldn't understand it. But I did. It was the asshole factor. Nobody could stand the guy.



I know what you're thinking. "Okay. I'm convinced. Don McLean's a one-hit schmuck. What am I supposed to do about it?" Well, you can't kill him. That would be wrong. And expensive. But you can spread the word. So the next time you're playng Trivial Pursuit - The Special Has-Been Edition - and Don McLean's name is mentioned, do me a favor. Say, as authoritatively as you can, "I heard he's an asshole." I'd appreciate it.





- from LCD, Issue Number 16, May 1994.



