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I would like to thank all of those that have written and called during the past 2 months. My health is doing better. Doctors have given me a tune up, and I am on my way to much healthier days.
I have started this column several times, and each time I hit the delete button. Since NQC is around the corner, I figured what a perfect time to identify the fakes amongst us.
I remember as a boy sitting in my daddy's church, listening to the Oak Ridge Boys sing live for our modest congregation. They seemed to just shine like the singers I watched on television. I remember waiting to visit with them back at their table. My knees were shaky and my palms sweaty, I moved in for the kill. I felt I was closing in on royalty. As I started to speak, Bill Golden grabbed my hand and said, "Hey little guy did you enjoy the singing? Pick anything you need off the table." Then Joe Bonsall came over and gave me a few pieces of the tambourine he broke that night when he was playing it. They laughed, showed us the bus, prayed with us and hit the road. Many of you are probably thinking, I have done that plenty of times with artists.
But, wait. Several days later the phone rang and they called to thank my father and mother for having them. They frequently sent letters and money to me and my family during hard times. The next year they planned a move to Country radio, with "Yall Come Back Saloon." They called and talked with many of their pastor friends, fans, and industry partners.
What did Southern Gospel music do? They put out their "Holier than Thou" stick and beat them to a pulp. The Oaks were accused of every bad thing all the other groups were doing at that time. Many groups came through my parents church, singers, drunks, addicts, thieves, and liars. One night we had geared up for a big Saturday night sing in Hickory, NC with another artist. Dad had announced it on his television show for several weeks, posters were out, and radio was playing their number one song. We arrived at the church early, we were making sure they had room to park, plugs, lighting, access, food, water or anything to make their journey pleasurable for our church.
I remember this being a pivotal point in the attitude that helps me manage and promote artists today. We pulled up and as we got out of the car, they pulled the curtain on the bus. We knocked and knocked. Finally a member of this family group came to the door and said, "We only come off the bus an hour before the show and would prefer you let us rest."
I had never seen a beer bottle before in my life. I immediately ran to the car. My dad wasn't aware until later on what had actually happened. I was afraid of beer and didn't want to believe or tell him that I had seen one on my favorite gospel artist's bus.
My father is one of the greatest men that ever lived. When this man dies, our town will not be able to hold the people. We were poor and my parents worked really hard to keep us feed. I remember someone laughing at my dad one day. He said, "If they are laughing at me, they are leaving someone else alone." I found that hard to swallow when they were laughing at me as a poor little boy, I would rather give them a black eye or throw them over a dam. I learned later in life that you can learn a lot from your enemies. You can gain plenty of dignity in silence, you can take the high road and be closer to God during trials.
Ok, I know you all are thinking stick with the subject, take your medicine and stop rambling on. So, here we go. The group stayed on the bus until show time, sent their crew to set up. They sang a few songs, cried in the same spots as they did on the radio, refused to talk to the people, had a family member stand at the table, and then ran back to their coach. My family cooked for a bake sale and stood in the hot sun for 4 weekends, collected bottles, used some of our building fund. Families that couldn't pay their bills put money in the pot to bring them to our church. We were supporting this image we saw on television and radio of this artist. What did we get? A big fake, drinking, lying, egotistical, over rated group of big time gospel stars, that couldn't even step inside the door of a major label without being kicked to the road.
When dad later explained to the group manager he had smelled gin on their breath, they tried to close the bus door on him and told him to run his church and stay out of their business. My dad, an old mountain Pentecostal preacher with a temper a mile wide, ran them off the church lot with an axe handle. I know groups think I am crazy, but I laugh as I look at every old Buffalo tour bus to see if its the coach my daddy chopped the sides off. I watched these attitudes happen year after year. Groups would come to our small church, get their money, put on a show and hit the road.
As I grew up and ran away from home in the mid 80's, I found myself working gigs on the road. Touring with rock bands, bouncing at bars, even a stint managing Tiny Tim ("Tip Toe Through the Tulips") during his days with the Alan C. Hill Circus. Now here's a man that was never fake or unpleasant, Tiny Tim (Herbert Khaury). I wasn't born during Tiny Tim's explosive career, I was just there to watch him struggle to out live "Tip Toe Through The Tulips." He had the most beautiful baritone voice, but couldn't escape the parody voice he used to break "Tip Toe Through the Tulips" on The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson. "Tip Toe Through the Tulips" was Tiny Tim's only Billboard Top 20 hit. Tiny lived at the Olcott Hotel in New York City for a few hundred bucks a month.
At that point he might have only have 3 dates a month. We spent lots of time talking, and I spent lots of time learning. Tiny taught me to never be fake, always be grateful, love everyone and praise the Lord with every breath. I wrote most of his fan mail back to others, Tiny's writing was not legible and his education was limited. But, his knowledge was amazing. It was awesome to watch him. We couldn't go 2 feet down a street without someone wanting his autograph or a picture, and we couldn't even afford a bagel for breakfast. But, it was something bigger than money to him. It was honesty, charisma and integrity. He never meet a stranger, and he always made sure everyone felt special.
I wasn't born to see him marry Miss Vickie on the Tonight Show, but I was when he married Miss Sue on Leno's Tonight Show, right before he died. I cry when I think of Tiny Tim, I feel great sadness that so many artist today are conceited,stuck up, fake, phony and egotistical. Yet they still manage to keep that fame and fortune rolling in that Tiny Tim deserved. Don't let artists treat you with disrespect. If you go to a concert, and the artist stays on the bus till they sing, as if they are royalty, don't buy their music. If they give you a fake smile and shake your hand and give you that "We appreciate you so much" and move to the next victim to their ego, move away. If they act like they don't have time for you say "I really liked you till I met you, your a disappointment," and walk away.
I hear every year at NQC the horror stories of artists, and their treatment of fans. I have had to literally go to my artist booths with fans on my arm and ask them to apologize. I have seen artists toss pictures at fans, make them stand for an hour while they talk to another group about fuel prices, or their bad spot on main stage. WHO CARES? At least you are singing. Get over it and yourself. Treat the people that buy the music as royalty. They pay your bills. They drive to see you. They pull the 8 records you might sell at retail off the shelves. Be nice and kind. Be Christ like.
And for the fans, stand up for yourself. If artists cut you out of a circle, treat you unkind, refuse a picture or autograph, ask you to come back, you just walk away. Find an artist that hasn't lost it, that can be real and honest, and say "I am tired will you forgive me."
In all seriousness, I have witnessed fan abuse and over inflated egos for too long. I have toured with musical icons that don't act like some of these Southern Gospel artist. Just watch them, and hold them accountable. Be a friend and fan. If they are jerks, they need to know it. There is only one King, the Messiah, our Lord and Jesus Christ. The artist are there to serve him, not be him.
Rick Hendrix
http://www.rickhendrix.com
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Written: 08/31/2005 
Author: RickBHendrix
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Monthly Articles
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Leave No Stone Unturned
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