Book- Richard Marx

( Place on Page 215, after paragraph 5)

When I was feeling blue as a kid, recovering from a fracture, something would happen to lift my spirits. The same thing happened now, some 40 years later, from an unexpected well-wisher.

The mail arrived and Mom handed me a huge brown envelope from a strange California address. I opened it and found a glossy 8 x 10 photo from singer/songwriter Richard Marx.  It was signed "Greg, Feel Better Soon, Best Always, Richard."

Somehow  word got to Richard that I was laid-up. It was like the old days, only without the bulletin board. Someone was out there thinking about me, someone who took the time to show they cared.

Back in 1997 I met Richard  for the first time. I was with a friend outside of the nearby QVC studios where Richard was appearing to promote his new album. We weren't sure what time he was to arrive, only that he was scheduled to appear on a segment during that Sunday afternoon. I brought along a box of grape Pop Tarts, his favorite snack of choice back then, as a surprise. We were the only two fans there, waiting for two hours in the pouring rain ( Good thing Mom didn't know).

Finally Richard's tour bus pulls up to the studio. He gets out, holding an umbrella, shocked that we had been there so long in the rain, and asked the security guards to let us wait in the warm, dry lobby until his TV gig was over. He met us afterwards, signed stuff and generally hung out for a good 20 minutes or so, chatting like we were old friends.

Thus began a new friendship, one which would last even to this day.

I always loved Richard's music. He is a talented guy, a Grammy Award-winning songwriter and a gifted singer. But even more so , he is a great guy. Whenever our paths crossed after that showery April day, he was always kind, caring and funny.

Like the time I saw him at a local music store, where he was signing CDs and doing an intimate Q & A with his fans. As he was ready to take a group photo with about 30 fans, he leaned over to me in the front and whispered in my ear, "On the count of three, just as he is taking the shot, pop a wheelie!"

I met Richard about ten times over the years, at various venues backstage or before a gig or an impromptu  chat in favor of the theater. He was always nice and always had time to say hi.

So when the get well autographed photo arrived, just when I needed it most, I was determined not to give up. I had plenty of fractures before. I wasn't going to let this one get me down. And after that day I started to feel better.