In a never-ending quest to improve my mind, I bought a new book the other day. “Meow, My Groovy Life with Tiger Beat’s Teen Idols,” by Ann Moses. No, it’s not exactly Balzac. It’s not even Danielle Steele. It’s more like the kind of book you read at home because you don’t want anyone to catch you reading it. The font is large, the pictures numerous and the “behind the scenes” stories highly entertaining.
Well, maybe not for anyone who wasn’t a preadolescent in the 1970s.
While I initially purchased the book to read tales about my “faves,” — David Cassidy and Bobby Sherman — what I wound up with was a first-class case of career envy.
The author was a mere 18 when she was plucked from her job as a juice stand clerk at Disneyland to work as a reporter for Tiger Beat magazine. Tiger Beat aimed for the youth audience which back then translated to anyone under age 12 with major crushes on Donny Osmond and Desi Arnaz Junior. Tiger Beat was also known for its breathless writing style and using approximately 10,000 exclamation points per issue. That’s a lot of exclamation points!
Not only did Ms. Moses get to regularly hang out with Bobby Sherman, the job was loaded with other perks. Such as hopping on planes at the spur of the moment to attend concerts, usually in San Francisco since Tiger Beat was based in Los Angeles. Yet another reason to be envious: round trip from Los Angeles to San Francisco was $25 in 1965 AND you didn’t need a reservation, just got on the plane and found an empty seat. Are we really improving as a society? I think not.
Then there was the salary (which was much better than what Moses earned at Disneyland), the leased car, the European trips. Compare those perks to what most of us get today, such as free flu shots. Nice, but not even close when held up next to going back to England with Davy Jones to meet his sweet old father.
As with all things, there were downsides even with this totally groovy job. The author learned fairly late in her tenure at Tiger Beat that although her salary was generous, she was getting paid half what her male counterparts earned. She also had to put up with a less-than-respectful workplace and a love affair with a rock star that ended very badly. (Just in case you aren’t going to read this gem, it was Maurice Gibb who appeared to have wooed Ann strictly for more “pix” in Tiger Beat.)
But still, doesn’t every Eden have at least one snake?
It really was a different world in those days. Gossip came in once-a-month, glossy paper doses, along with a life-sized pin up of the current heartthrob. In between issues, fans were left with nothing to do but reread Tiger Beat over and over until the next issue arrived.
In today’s atmosphere of 24/7 celebrity coverage, it’s hard to imagine anyone patiently waiting like that. I have to think celebrities must have been a lot less stressed in the old days.
The book ended with the intrepid girl reporter moving on to another career—housewife and mother. Less exciting, perhaps, but with much better hours. And Ann has stories she can share with pals forever.
“Then there was the time I helped run a contest giving away David Cassidy’s dog’s puppies. And did I tell you about how much fun I had with The Monkees? Except for Mike. He was a creep. Oh, and let me tell you all about Mick Jagger…”
All right, time to get my flu shot. As perks go, it’s not that thrilling but at least it will keep me healthy as I look for my next great read.