The Alice Cooper Story

Dr. Sexson was talking about the stories we hear again, and again, and again... In my house that number one oft-told tale is "The Alice Cooper Story". As in most stories passed on by family (This one is my mother's... She's a great one for stories) this one has a moral. The story goes something like this (Try to figure out the moral if you can; I'll include it at the end, so no peeking.):

At the beginning of the story my mom is still living in Chicago, which probably places this particular episode of The Phil Donahue Show in '74 or '75, and she's watching TV and Donahue has Alice Cooper on the show. He comes out dressed in full regalia, with all his makeup on, and preforms one of his songs for the crowd. The crowd is aghast, of course. Little old ladies all over the country are SHOCKED!!! Now mom never includes what that song IS but based on time period and my own whimsy I always imagine "No More Mr. Nice Guy" (which segues nicely into the interview as you will see). Anyway, the performance is followed by a commercial break and when the show comes back on Alice has changed into regular clothes and is sitting on the little central dias for his interview. His hair is long, but he looks pretty normal and he says, "I'm just a regular old Jewish kid" etc. etc. and all the little old ladies are comforted and by the end of the show are saying he's a very nice young man, etc. etc.

If you hadn't parsed it out yet, this is the "don't judge a book by its cover" story. I don't know how many times I've heard it over my lifetime, but I do remember when I started glossing it as she would tell it. I started to listen to a lot of music, to read a lot about music, etc. and in so doing I learned a short biography of Alice Cooper. When it comes to the part where Alice says he's Jewish I always slip in, subtle-like, that he's actually a PK (Pastor's Kid, making it a little unlikely he's Jewish)and my mom just goes, "Oh, that's right, a PK," like that's how the story always went.

This last summer we're on Going-To-The-Sun Highway up in Glacier Park when she starts telling the Alice Cooper story again, and I slip in the PK thing, and suddenly she stops and asks us: "Have I told you this story before?" The car is dead silent, my sister and I falling apart with silent laughter and I say, "I think I've heard it a few times." She'll probably tell it again with this same surprise that we've heard the story before. But that's my mom for you. Ask me about the Osteoporosis story if you want a quick, silly insight in to my mom.