This is a rough translation in english of a story I wrote in French in 1995, a few monthes after I returned to France.  The memory of Richard was still very fresh in my mind.  Richard was the only person I met in the United States about whom I ever decided to writte a story in French.

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Spike’s Café. Richard McGhee made his debut has singer at the sunday evening open mike.

It happened one afternoon, many years ago, when i worked at Spike’s café, a San Francisco restaurant located at the corner of 8th & Minna street.

There were few customers in the dining room, I slowly cleaned up some tables to fight off boredom when this odd guy came in.   He had piercing little eyes in which danced crazy sparkles, slightly oily dark hair, a sadly colored old polyester suit, a body shaken by nervous, jumpy movements.  He went to a table, sat there and waited until I came to take his order.

A few minutes later, I brought him a tea ; he engaged in a conversation.  For me, the usual “What’s your name ? Where are you from ?”  I was polite in return and that’s how i heard for the first time this sentence which was a whole program all by itself :

“Hi ! I’m Richard McGhee”

In the next ten minutes, I knew all there was to know about the man : His lungs problems, that his first job was to pick up bowling balls before they invented machines to do so, and most of all :  That he was a singer.

“Boy ! he told me I just came into town and I’m gonna tell you what : I’m gonna be a star !”

“Sure, tought I, why not !?  One more looney in SF won’t make much difference !”

I poured him extra hot water for his tea.  This “act of kindness” is actually standart fare in the US, but Richard had decided I’d just done him a personal favor.  And so it earned me Richard’s eternal gratitude.  From that day on, Richard became a regular at Spike’s café.  He liked me and, depending on his mood, it was sometime a blessing, and sometimes - I confess it - a curse !  Each time Richard came in, the first thing he’d say to the employee was :

- I’m a singer…  Yeah… My name is Richard Mac Ghee, I’m gonna be a star…”

In the monthes that followed, bringing with him a tape on which he had copied the instrumental versions of many american standarts,  Richard began to do the round of the San Francisco Open Mikes.  These were evenings during which anyone could get on stage and use the microphone to play the guitar, mumble some poetry (or sometime scream it !) or sing a song.  All this for the better and for the worst.   Richard Mac Ghee soon got quite a reputation as an oddball who’d come out of the pit of hell.   And while he was seen as weird, ood and a bit of a kook, lots of young people in their twenties got a special fondness for this old guy who hadn’t turned into an old fart.  “Richard is weird” became “Richard is cool”.

one of the many pictures featurting him that Richard handed out to his friends

His name began to get around in the San Francisco underground scene.  Some rock bands asked him to sing before or during their shows.  Richard Mc Ghee took a liking for this public which, he was sure of, adored his way of singing.  He decided to create his own show, bought a karaoke machine, rehearsed several weeks, did his own demo-tapes with a record player that he’d bought in a thrift store for a few dollars, and then he sent them to every rock club in S.F.

It’s also around that time that he began to hand out his picture to all the persons he came across.  In Spike’s dining room, he could sit at his restaurant’s table, pull out a stack of photos (featuring him), sign one up, interrupt the clients who sat next to him and tell them

“Hi, I’m Richard Mc Ghee, I’m a singer !  Here, have a picture of me !”

I got mine.  One week after he gave it to me, he took me aside for an aparte :

- Say !  Do you still have my picture ?
- Sorry Richard, Not here, it must be at my place…”
- It doesn’t matter, he answered,  He pulled out of one of his pockets a huge stack of pictures (of him) and gave me another one.  His technic got better : now, he signed them in advance.  By an odd twist of fate, during one of my many movings between the US, France and Belgium, I’d eventually lose his dedicated picture…

Richard had the same attitude in every bar he went to.  One Day, he gave his picture to a bartender, asking him to place it wel in sight behing the bar.  The next week, he came back, took the barman aside, asked where his picture was.  The man had “lost” it or “forgotten”.  Nevermind, whatever the excuse, Richard gave him a new signed picture of him and wouldn’t leave his victim in peace until his picture was tacked behind the counter.  Soon, Richard’s face was everywhere !

The Star of Richard was rising over San Francisco : a local paper published his picture.  More excited than ever, Richard immediately paid a visit to every single person he knew, interrupting them during their work at the busiest time,  Giving them appointment, Ferreting them out of their bars, ringing at their doors in order to show them a copy of the paper.

- I Told you, I’m Richard Mc Ghee, I’m gonna be a star like Frank Sinatra.  Hey, Bruno !  Come to my show, I’m playing at the covered Wagon saturday evening, There’ll be a crowd !”

I foolishly accepted the invitation, alltough I’d already seen a great many time Richard sing at Spike’s Café’s Open Mike.  But on that saturday, I fell in an ambush (Une ambuscade : Friends treacherously pay you a few too many beers), an easy excuse to say that I completely forgot about Richard’s show.

I worked at Spike’s.  Richard KInew were to find him and during my shift, I could’t escape him.  On Monday, Richard was at the restaurant, asking for an explanation.

- Bruno !  You didn’t came to my show last saturday !”

I tried to mumbel something but Richard cut me off and decided singlehandedly :
- It doesn’t matter, You’ll come thursday at the Paradise Lounge !”

I forgot again.  Richard did me a scene similar to that of the previous monday.  Soon, he came everyday at the restaurant and each time I was there (that is to say, allmost every day), he came up to me to try to convinced me to come to his show.  I began to dread to show up at work ; eventually, a month later, my will worn out, I went to see how Richard had grown from an obscur open mike participant to a star vocalist.

I’ll never forget this incredible hour.  Richard had revolutionnized the art of Karaoke singing.  While he sung, a strange modulation gave an particular, unique feel to the lyrics.  I also felt pain for the old man :  As we went further into the show and he got more tired, his fragile lungs let out a louder and louder whisling sound.  In the last part of his show, He was short of breath and it seemed that he had to clear his throat every  minute or so.  I knew that Richard had lung problems, but i didn’t know, and know one else as well how sick he - who wouldn’t singing - was.

After the show, he asked me if I’d like what I’d just seen.

I told him Yes

Reassured over the quality of his prestation, he went into the crowd to hand out dedicated pictures (of him) to each and every customer.

Success changed Richard.  He invested money for a stage attire.   Giving up on a look greatly influence by crooners, he got a cow boy belt whose Gold and Silver buckle was almost as big as a soup dish.  He also began to wear a jacket on which false diamonds glittered.

His lifestyle also changed : Women, he claimed, were running after him.  Once, I chatted with him outside the restaurant when a woman’s scream interrupted us.

-Hey, Richard, Honey, look at me.”

Some vulgar ugly forty year old woman stood at the end of the block.  She pulled her shirt to show Richard her two sagging tits, which hung in a green nylon bikini top.  Richard waved his hand.  Then, once the woman was gone, he told me confidentially :

-  She sucked my dick for ten bucks because she likes my songs…”

The San Francisco lifestyle also had an influence over him.  He became “bisexual” (he specifically presented himself as such to me during a conversation) and even told me once that one of clients at his hotel regularly blew him.  I couldn’t imagine who would give a head to Richard but I never doubted this was true, as everything is possible in San Francisco.

One Year after the beginning of his carreer, Richard was becoming more and more famous.  Because I had drawn a flyer for him when he was still “a nobody”, he gave me a free “Richard Mc Ghee” T-shirt onto which his face had been printed.  I was never ashamed to wear it and did so until it was full of holes.  Eventually, while i sat with the Tshirt on in coffeehouses some guys came up to me to share with me their admiration for the man.  Richard also handed out for free audio tapes to anyone who wanted them.

A Major event would happen in his life.  The member of a local rock band, Swell, took a liking for him.  Not only did they ask him to open for them at the Great American Music Hall, but they featured him in their video clip, which was aired several times on MTV.  Richard Mc Ghee was on MTV !!!   This was a consecration of his talent !  He secured an appliance to duplicate video tapes, then began to distribute them around him.  He also recorded an audio tape “Love me” which featured two of his songs “Love me” and “Sophisticated Lady”, as well as several songs of Swell.

Finally, several months later, he opened for Swell, which opened for Smashing pumpinks at the Warfield, one of the most quoted concert hall in San Francisco.  This was his apotheosis.  He did copies of the poster, which he handed out around him.

Yet, while he should have been the happiest of all men, Richard was bitter.  He thought that Bar owners weren’t paying him enough for his show, especially since he’d been seen on MTV (“I’m an international star, now”).  He felt that some people were becoming hostile toward him.  He claimed that others were actually jalous of him, of his “celebrity”, quite relative in the mind of his friends but very real to him. 

And so he began to dream of a new beginning, since he felt that he was no longer appreciated in San Francisco as much as he deserved.  One day, he came at the restaurant, came up to me and shook my hand.

- Bruno, I’m leaving town, I came to tell it to you because you’ve allways been nice to me, but others are too jalous, I don’t need that in my life.”
-  But, Richard, where are you going ?”

He answered this, which was typical

-  I’m leaving for Las Vegas.  They need singers like me there !  I know I’ll be a star…”

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Richard kept coming on and off after that but he was indeed often out of town.  Eventually, in december 1994, I went back to France, not having the chance to say good bye to an old friend who symbolized, to me, a certain america…  I didn’t know he’d die a few monthes after my departure.

A flyer I did for Richard in 1992 shortly after he came to town.  It got me his eternal friendship.