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Starship Owned by Teen Idol, Bobby Sherman?


sadiepearl

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I just read a blog from getback.com called: To Be Young and a Rocker,(came up on my Yahoo homepage) that the airplane, Starship that Zep rented was actually owned by former teen idol, Bobby Sherman. I haven't yet heard or seen this information posted on this site and thought it was pretty interesting. Does anyone else know about this? Or remember who Bobby Sherman was? I grew up in the US and had a poster of him in my bedroom, probably around 1973.

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The Starship was a former United Airlines Boeing 720B passenger jet, bought by Bobby Sherman and his manager, Ward Sylvester, and leased to touring musical artists in the mid-1970s.

The Starship, N7201U (S/N: 17907), was the first B720 built. It was delivered to United Airlines on October 1960 and then purchased in 1973 by Contemporary Entertainment.

When it began showing signs of engine trouble in 1977, Richard Cole leased Ceasar's

Chariot for the remainder of the tour. The Starship went through several changes of ownership from '77-'79 until it eventually entered storage at Luton Airport, where it

was parted out in 1982.

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Flying High

By STEVE KURUTZ

New York Times

Published: September 21, 2003

When the road manager extraordinaire Richard Cole was assigned the task of finding a plane ostentatious enough to transport Led Zeppelin during the band's world-conquering 1973 tour, the choice was as easy as a groupie: in the mid-70's, if you were a rock star, or just part of the bell-bottomed entourage, the only way to travel was in a customized Boeing 720B called the Starship 1.

During its brief run, from 1973 to 1976, the plane transported Mick and Bianca; Elton John (who painted the plane in stars and stripes for his ''Rock of the Westies'' tour); the Atlantic Records co-chairman Ahmet Ertegun; John Lennon; and the Rolling Stone journalist Cameron Crowe, among others. Zeppelin's wraithlike guitarist, Jimmy Page, used the Starship as a personal hideaway, retreating into the master bedroom -- with its queen-size waterbed, fake fur bedspread and shower -- to deepen his heroin habit and hide his teenage girlfriend, Lori Maddox.

''If you were operating at the top echelon of the record business, you had to have the Starship,'' says the legendary rock photographer Neal Preston, who held an all-access boarding pass for Led Zeppelin's tours. ''It was the Bolivian diamond flake of airplanes.''

These days, as Led Zeppelin takes off again with the release of its chart-topping, three-CD live set, ''How the West Was Won,'' the unapologetic excess of the band's Starship days has become cool all over again. The plane also gets plenty of air time in ''According to the Rolling Stones'' (Chronicle), a new book with rare photos that show Mick, Keith and company lounging aboard the Starship in all their louche decadence. And designers like Dsquared are referencing 70's style rock 'n' roll jet-set glamour on the catwalk.

There had been, of course, other private planes. The Rolling Stones chartered one for their 1972 tour, inviting Truman Capote and Lee Radziwill to tag along. And much has been made of the plush jets the wrinkly rockers leased for their recent world tour. But they are crop dusters compared to the Starship.

''It was very luxurious,'' says Peter Frampton, who leased the jet after the mid-70's success of ''Frampton Comes Alive!'' ''It was the closest thing to Air Force One.'' In some respects it was even better, boasting a shag-carpeted lounge with swiveling leather chairs, a pair of sexy stewardesses named Suzee and Bianca and a brass-covered bar with a built-in organ, should the muse strike.

''It was all about fighting for a seat at the bar,'' Frampton says. For the members of Deep Purple and their roadies, it was more about watching X-rated movies on the high-tech video monitor and using the Starship to entice groupies. ''The girls would get on the plane and fly to wherever the next show was,'' recalls Bruce Payne, the group's manager. ''Fathers two states over were calling the cops.'' But Deep Purple's drummer, Ian Paice, has no regrets. ''The Starship was a great place to join the mile-high club,'' he says.

Though the plane often resembled a jet-propelled Sodom and Gomorrah, its roots were rather innocent: the Starship was owned by the teen idol Bobby Sherman and his manager, Ward Sylvester, a former producer for the Monkees. Frustrated with traveling to gigs on cramped charter flights, the two men decided to purchase a plane and lease it to like-minded stars. Eventually, they bought the Boeing jet for $600,000 from United Airlines, which was phasing out the model.

What they received was a standard, 138-seat passenger plane -- until, that is, Sylvester took it to a custom shop in Oakland, Calif., and spent another $200,000 on remodeling. A sea of maroon shag was installed, as was a film library that included everything from the Marx Brothers to ''Deep Throat.'' Asked whether the waterbed in the master suite was in accordance with F.A.A. regulations, Sylvester pauses. ''There was a placard saying the bed couldn't be occupied during takeoff or landing,'' he says.

Though Jagger found the jet's motif too Vegas (his first words upon boarding were, ''It's so tacky''), most passengers thought it quite stylish. In a more modest era the onboard fireplace might have been met with befuddlement, but on the Starship, it drew oohs and aahs, and the jet was a legend from its maiden flight.

The first paying passengers were the members of Led Zeppelin, who hopped aboard in July 1973. At the time, they were the biggest band in the world, and they celebrated in standard fashion. They painted their name across the fuselage, snorted cocaine with rolled-up hundreds and treated the master suite like a pay-by-the-hour motel. In Cole's words, the jet became ''a floating gin palace.'' Zeppelin's drummer, John Bonham, known as Bonzo, was the resident loon -- ''He once tried to open the plane's door over Kansas City because he had to pee,'' remembers Suzee Carnel, one of the flight attendants -- and John Paul Jones, the band's bassist-keyboardist, acted as piano man, entertaining the revolving cast of hangers-on with pub songs like ''I've Got a Lovely Bunch of Coconuts.''

The revelry was intensified by the grisly tradition of rock 'n' roll plane crashes -- think Buddy Holly, Otis Redding -- as the band fortified its nerves with alcohol. ''There were times when I had to get Bonzo absolutely paralytic,'' Cole says. In the end it was for naught. Save one turbulent flight in which Robert Plant, the group's lead singer, insisted he wanted to hear Elvis before he died, the tour went off without a hitch. And though the Starship cost a king's ransom to lease -- $2,500 a flight hour -- the group even managed to cut expenses, albeit in their own inimitable way. ''In those days,'' Cole recalls, ''we went through a phase where we only drank '64 and '66 Dom Pérignon. If we found a good deal we'd have one of the assistants buy several cases and store it on the plane.''

Ian Paice, of Deep Purple, fondly recalls being in Miami and, on a whim, flying to Boston for a lobster dinner. ''It was a time when everything was doable,'' he says. ''And we weren't shy about spending the money.'' Groans Bruce Payne, the band's manager, ''That probably cost $11,000.''

But the Starship's immense popularity was fueled as much by function as by fashion; the plane revolutionized the way bands toured. ''The whole point of the Starship was mobility,'' says the Led Zeppelin biographer Stephen Davis, who was invited aboard during the band's 1975 tour. ''No more staying overnight in towns like Kansas City where they roll up the sidewalks at 10 o'clock at night.''

For the Stones, there was an added bonus: when the group leased the plane for their 1975 tour, it solved the longstanding problem of Keith Richards's tardiness. The often comatose guitarist could now be propped up, wheeled onto the tarmac and tossed aboard the plane, where Suzee would be waiting with his favored drink, a Tequila Sunrise.

As nomadic musicians can attest, there is no greater comfort than traveling on your own schedule, however erratic. On the Starship, there was no baggage claim, no autograph seekers or security check. As Frampton, who was the last to lease the jet, explains: ''You drove the limos onto the runway and went straight from the door to the plane. When you landed you didn't get off until there were a fleet of limos waiting. And as you stepped down, you heard the trunks popping.''

Despite the high-altitude high jinks the plane gave rise to, its grounding ultimately had little to do with drug-fueled rock star behavior like Bonzo's getting soused and storming the cockpit somewhere over Des Moines. Part of the reason for its demise was that the plane belonged to a certain era whose time had simply passed, just like the vogue for shag carpeting. ''The Starship was emblematic of rock at its height,'' Davis, the biographer, says. ''It never got that big again.''

More than anything, though, the jet, quite literally, ran out of gas: the mid-70's oil embargo brought the plane to a halt. ''It was hard to make the argument that the Starship's fuel was part of the national defense,'' Sylvester, the plane's co-owner, says. By the time prices became affordable again, the high-flying age had touched down, and Sylvester and Sherman were forced to sell their investment.

In the end, and perhaps fittingly, having forged a reputation for carrying sultanlike personalities -- and their harems -- across the sky, the Starship was sold to a prominent Middle Eastern interest. One imagines the tank was always kept full.

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Or remember who Bobby Sherman was?

Bobby Sherman, actor/singer back in the 60's-early 70's. He started in "Here Comes the Brides". I may have some old pictures of him around somewhere in my scapbooks.

In 1969, his first gold single, "Little Woman", became popular, peaking at #3 on the Billboard Hot 100 chart (#2 in Canada) and spending nine weeks in the top 20, effectively cementing his status as a performer popular with teenage girls. His other hits were "Julie (Do Ya Love Me)" (US #5)(Can #3), "Easy Come, Easy Go" (US #9)(Can #6), "Jennifer" (US #60)Can #32), "La La La" (US #9)(Can #7), and "The Drum" (US #29)(Can #7) (written by Alan O'Day). Some of these songs were produced by Jackie Mills, a Hollywood record producer, who also produced the Brady Bunch Kids. In Canada "Hey Mister Sun" reached #19, "Cried Like A Baby" reached #10, and "Waiting At The Bus Stop" reached #31.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bobby_Sherman

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Flying High

By STEVE KURUTZ

New York Times

Published: September 21, 2003

When the road manager extraordinaire Richard Cole was assigned the task of finding a plane ostentatious enough to transport Led Zeppelin during the band's world-conquering 1973 tour, the choice was as easy as a groupie: in the mid-70's, if you were a rock star, or just part of the bell-bottomed entourage, the only way to travel was in a customized Boeing 720B called the Starship 1.

During its brief run, from 1973 to 1976, the plane transported Mick and Bianca; Elton John (who painted the plane in stars and stripes for his ''Rock of the Westies'' tour); the Atlantic Records co-chairman Ahmet Ertegun; John Lennon; and the Rolling Stone journalist Cameron Crowe, among others. Zeppelin's wraithlike guitarist, Jimmy Page, used the Starship as a personal hideaway, retreating into the master bedroom -- with its queen-size waterbed, fake fur bedspread and shower -- to deepen his heroin habit and hide his teenage girlfriend, Lori Maddox.

''If you were operating at the top echelon of the record business, you had to have the Starship,'' says the legendary rock photographer Neal Preston, who held an all-access boarding pass for Led Zeppelin's tours. ''It was the Bolivian diamond flake of airplanes.''

These days, as Led Zeppelin takes off again with the release of its chart-topping, three-CD live set, ''How the West Was Won,'' the unapologetic excess of the band's Starship days has become cool all over again. The plane also gets plenty of air time in ''According to the Rolling Stones'' (Chronicle), a new book with rare photos that show Mick, Keith and company lounging aboard the Starship in all their louche decadence. And designers like Dsquared are referencing 70's style rock 'n' roll jet-set glamour on the catwalk.

There had been, of course, other private planes. The Rolling Stones chartered one for their 1972 tour, inviting Truman Capote and Lee Radziwill to tag along. And much has been made of the plush jets the wrinkly rockers leased for their recent world tour. But they are crop dusters compared to the Starship.

''It was very luxurious,'' says Peter Frampton, who leased the jet after the mid-70's success of ''Frampton Comes Alive!'' ''It was the closest thing to Air Force One.'' In some respects it was even better, boasting a shag-carpeted lounge with swiveling leather chairs, a pair of sexy stewardesses named Suzee and Bianca and a brass-covered bar with a built-in organ, should the muse strike.

''It was all about fighting for a seat at the bar,'' Frampton says. For the members of Deep Purple and their roadies, it was more about watching X-rated movies on the high-tech video monitor and using the Starship to entice groupies. ''The girls would get on the plane and fly to wherever the next show was,'' recalls Bruce Payne, the group's manager. ''Fathers two states over were calling the cops.'' But Deep Purple's drummer, Ian Paice, has no regrets. ''The Starship was a great place to join the mile-high club,'' he says.

Though the plane often resembled a jet-propelled Sodom and Gomorrah, its roots were rather innocent: the Starship was owned by the teen idol Bobby Sherman and his manager, Ward Sylvester, a former producer for the Monkees. Frustrated with traveling to gigs on cramped charter flights, the two men decided to purchase a plane and lease it to like-minded stars. Eventually, they bought the Boeing jet for $600,000 from United Airlines, which was phasing out the model.

What they received was a standard, 138-seat passenger plane -- until, that is, Sylvester took it to a custom shop in Oakland, Calif., and spent another $200,000 on remodeling. A sea of maroon shag was installed, as was a film library that included everything from the Marx Brothers to ''Deep Throat.'' Asked whether the waterbed in the master suite was in accordance with F.A.A. regulations, Sylvester pauses. ''There was a placard saying the bed couldn't be occupied during takeoff or landing,'' he says.

Though Jagger found the jet's motif too Vegas (his first words upon boarding were, ''It's so tacky''), most passengers thought it quite stylish. In a more modest era the onboard fireplace might have been met with befuddlement, but on the Starship, it drew oohs and aahs, and the jet was a legend from its maiden flight.

The first paying passengers were the members of Led Zeppelin, who hopped aboard in July 1973. At the time, they were the biggest band in the world, and they celebrated in standard fashion. They painted their name across the fuselage, snorted cocaine with rolled-up hundreds and treated the master suite like a pay-by-the-hour motel. In Cole's words, the jet became ''a floating gin palace.'' Zeppelin's drummer, John Bonham, known as Bonzo, was the resident loon -- ''He once tried to open the plane's door over Kansas City because he had to pee,'' remembers Suzee Carnel, one of the flight attendants -- and John Paul Jones, the band's bassist-keyboardist, acted as piano man, entertaining the revolving cast of hangers-on with pub songs like ''I've Got a Lovely Bunch of Coconuts.''

The revelry was intensified by the grisly tradition of rock 'n' roll plane crashes -- think Buddy Holly, Otis Redding -- as the band fortified its nerves with alcohol. ''There were times when I had to get Bonzo absolutely paralytic,'' Cole says. In the end it was for naught. Save one turbulent flight in which Robert Plant, the group's lead singer, insisted he wanted to hear Elvis before he died, the tour went off without a hitch. And though the Starship cost a king's ransom to lease -- $2,500 a flight hour -- the group even managed to cut expenses, albeit in their own inimitable way. ''In those days,'' Cole recalls, ''we went through a phase where we only drank '64 and '66 Dom Pérignon. If we found a good deal we'd have one of the assistants buy several cases and store it on the plane.''

Ian Paice, of Deep Purple, fondly recalls being in Miami and, on a whim, flying to Boston for a lobster dinner. ''It was a time when everything was doable,'' he says. ''And we weren't shy about spending the money.'' Groans Bruce Payne, the band's manager, ''That probably cost $11,000.''

But the Starship's immense popularity was fueled as much by function as by fashion; the plane revolutionized the way bands toured. ''The whole point of the Starship was mobility,'' says the Led Zeppelin biographer Stephen Davis, who was invited aboard during the band's 1975 tour. ''No more staying overnight in towns like Kansas City where they roll up the sidewalks at 10 o'clock at night.''

For the Stones, there was an added bonus: when the group leased the plane for their 1975 tour, it solved the longstanding problem of Keith Richards's tardiness. The often comatose guitarist could now be propped up, wheeled onto the tarmac and tossed aboard the plane, where Suzee would be waiting with his favored drink, a Tequila Sunrise.

As nomadic musicians can attest, there is no greater comfort than traveling on your own schedule, however erratic. On the Starship, there was no baggage claim, no autograph seekers or security check. As Frampton, who was the last to lease the jet, explains: ''You drove the limos onto the runway and went straight from the door to the plane. When you landed you didn't get off until there were a fleet of limos waiting. And as you stepped down, you heard the trunks popping.''

Despite the high-altitude high jinks the plane gave rise to, its grounding ultimately had little to do with drug-fueled rock star behavior like Bonzo's getting soused and storming the cockpit somewhere over Des Moines. Part of the reason for its demise was that the plane belonged to a certain era whose time had simply passed, just like the vogue for shag carpeting. ''The Starship was emblematic of rock at its height,'' Davis, the biographer, says. ''It never got that big again.''

More than anything, though, the jet, quite literally, ran out of gas: the mid-70's oil embargo brought the plane to a halt. ''It was hard to make the argument that the Starship's fuel was part of the national defense,'' Sylvester, the plane's co-owner, says. By the time prices became affordable again, the high-flying age had touched down, and Sylvester and Sherman were forced to sell their investment.

In the end, and perhaps fittingly, having forged a reputation for carrying sultanlike personalities -- and their harems -- across the sky, the Starship was sold to a prominent Middle Eastern interest. One imagines the tank was always kept full.

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Flying High

By STEVE KURUTZ

New York Times

Published: September 21, 2003

When the road manager extraordinaire Richard Cole was assigned the task of finding a plane ostentatious enough to transport Led Zeppelin during the band's world-conquering 1973 tour, the choice was as easy as a groupie: in the mid-70's, if you were a rock star, or just part of the bell-bottomed entourage, the only way to travel was in a customized Boeing 720B called the Starship 1.

During its brief run, from 1973 to 1976, the plane transported Mick and Bianca; Elton John (who painted the plane in stars and stripes for his ''Rock of the Westies'' tour); the Atlantic Records co-chairman Ahmet Ertegun; John Lennon; and the Rolling Stone journalist Cameron Crowe, among others. Zeppelin's wraithlike guitarist, Jimmy Page, used the Starship as a personal hideaway, retreating into the master bedroom -- with its queen-size waterbed, fake fur bedspread and shower -- to deepen his heroin habit and hide his teenage girlfriend, Lori Maddox.

''If you were operating at the top echelon of the record business, you had to have the Starship,'' says the legendary rock photographer Neal Preston, who held an all-access boarding pass for Led Zeppelin's tours. ''It was the Bolivian diamond flake of airplanes.''

These days, as Led Zeppelin takes off again with the release of its chart-topping, three-CD live set, ''How the West Was Won,'' the unapologetic excess of the band's Starship days has become cool all over again. The plane also gets plenty of air time in ''According to the Rolling Stones'' (Chronicle), a new book with rare photos that show Mick, Keith and company lounging aboard the Starship in all their louche decadence. And designers like Dsquared are referencing 70's style rock 'n' roll jet-set glamour on the catwalk.

There had been, of course, other private planes. The Rolling Stones chartered one for their 1972 tour, inviting Truman Capote and Lee Radziwill to tag along. And much has been made of the plush jets the wrinkly rockers leased for their recent world tour. But they are crop dusters compared to the Starship.

''It was very luxurious,'' says Peter Frampton, who leased the jet after the mid-70's success of ''Frampton Comes Alive!'' ''It was the closest thing to Air Force One.'' In some respects it was even better, boasting a shag-carpeted lounge with swiveling leather chairs, a pair of sexy stewardesses named Suzee and Bianca and a brass-covered bar with a built-in organ, should the muse strike.

''It was all about fighting for a seat at the bar,'' Frampton says. For the members of Deep Purple and their roadies, it was more about watching X-rated movies on the high-tech video monitor and using the Starship to entice groupies. ''The girls would get on the plane and fly to wherever the next show was,'' recalls Bruce Payne, the group's manager. ''Fathers two states over were calling the cops.'' But Deep Purple's drummer, Ian Paice, has no regrets. ''The Starship was a great place to join the mile-high club,'' he says.

Though the plane often resembled a jet-propelled Sodom and Gomorrah, its roots were rather innocent: the Starship was owned by the teen idol Bobby Sherman and his manager, Ward Sylvester, a former producer for the Monkees. Frustrated with traveling to gigs on cramped charter flights, the two men decided to purchase a plane and lease it to like-minded stars. Eventually, they bought the Boeing jet for $600,000 from United Airlines, which was phasing out the model.

What they received was a standard, 138-seat passenger plane -- until, that is, Sylvester took it to a custom shop in Oakland, Calif., and spent another $200,000 on remodeling. A sea of maroon shag was installed, as was a film library that included everything from the Marx Brothers to ''Deep Throat.'' Asked whether the waterbed in the master suite was in accordance with F.A.A. regulations, Sylvester pauses. ''There was a placard saying the bed couldn't be occupied during takeoff or landing,'' he says.

Though Jagger found the jet's motif too Vegas (his first words upon boarding were, ''It's so tacky''), most passengers thought it quite stylish. In a more modest era the onboard fireplace might have been met with befuddlement, but on the Starship, it drew oohs and aahs, and the jet was a legend from its maiden flight.

The first paying passengers were the members of Led Zeppelin, who hopped aboard in July 1973. At the time, they were the biggest band in the world, and they celebrated in standard fashion. They painted their name across the fuselage, snorted cocaine with rolled-up hundreds and treated the master suite like a pay-by-the-hour motel. In Cole's words, the jet became ''a floating gin palace.'' Zeppelin's drummer, John Bonham, known as Bonzo, was the resident loon -- ''He once tried to open the plane's door over Kansas City because he had to pee,'' remembers Suzee Carnel, one of the flight attendants -- and John Paul Jones, the band's bassist-keyboardist, acted as piano man, entertaining the revolving cast of hangers-on with pub songs like ''I've Got a Lovely Bunch of Coconuts.''

The revelry was intensified by the grisly tradition of rock 'n' roll plane crashes -- think Buddy Holly, Otis Redding -- as the band fortified its nerves with alcohol. ''There were times when I had to get Bonzo absolutely paralytic,'' Cole says. In the end it was for naught. Save one turbulent flight in which Robert Plant, the group's lead singer, insisted he wanted to hear Elvis before he died, the tour went off without a hitch. And though the Starship cost a king's ransom to lease -- $2,500 a flight hour -- the group even managed to cut expenses, albeit in their own inimitable way. ''In those days,'' Cole recalls, ''we went through a phase where we only drank '64 and '66 Dom Pérignon. If we found a good deal we'd have one of the assistants buy several cases and store it on the plane.''

Ian Paice, of Deep Purple, fondly recalls being in Miami and, on a whim, flying to Boston for a lobster dinner. ''It was a time when everything was doable,'' he says. ''And we weren't shy about spending the money.'' Groans Bruce Payne, the band's manager, ''That probably cost $11,000.''

But the Starship's immense popularity was fueled as much by function as by fashion; the plane revolutionized the way bands toured. ''The whole point of the Starship was mobility,'' says the Led Zeppelin biographer Stephen Davis, who was invited aboard during the band's 1975 tour. ''No more staying overnight in towns like Kansas City where they roll up the sidewalks at 10 o'clock at night.''

For the Stones, there was an added bonus: when the group leased the plane for their 1975 tour, it solved the longstanding problem of Keith Richards's tardiness. The often comatose guitarist could now be propped up, wheeled onto the tarmac and tossed aboard the plane, where Suzee would be waiting with his favored drink, a Tequila Sunrise.

As nomadic musicians can attest, there is no greater comfort than traveling on your own schedule, however erratic. On the Starship, there was no baggage claim, no autograph seekers or security check. As Frampton, who was the last to lease the jet, explains: ''You drove the limos onto the runway and went straight from the door to the plane. When you landed you didn't get off until there were a fleet of limos waiting. And as you stepped down, you heard the trunks popping.''

Despite the high-altitude high jinks the plane gave rise to, its grounding ultimately had little to do with drug-fueled rock star behavior like Bonzo's getting soused and storming the cockpit somewhere over Des Moines. Part of the reason for its demise was that the plane belonged to a certain era whose time had simply passed, just like the vogue for shag carpeting. ''The Starship was emblematic of rock at its height,'' Davis, the biographer, says. ''It never got that big again.''

More than anything, though, the jet, quite literally, ran out of gas: the mid-70's oil embargo brought the plane to a halt. ''It was hard to make the argument that the Starship's fuel was part of the national defense,'' Sylvester, the plane's co-owner, says. By the time prices became affordable again, the high-flying age had touched down, and Sylvester and Sherman were forced to sell their investment.

In the end, and perhaps fittingly, having forged a reputation for carrying sultanlike personalities -- and their harems -- across the sky, the Starship was sold to a prominent Middle Eastern interest. One imagines the tank was always kept full.

Thanks for this great interview. I can only imagine it has been posted before but a first read for me. This sounds like a very honest documentary. Very honest!

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Bobby Sherman, actor/singer back in the 60's-early 70's. He started in "Here Comes the Brides". I may have some old pictures of him around somewhere in my scapbooks.

In 1969, his first gold single, "Little Woman", became popular, peaking at #3 on the Billboard Hot 100 chart (#2 in Canada) and spending nine weeks in the top 20, effectively cementing his status as a performer popular with teenage girls. His other hits were "Julie (Do Ya Love Me)" (US #5)(Can #3), "Easy Come, Easy Go" (US #9)(Can #6), "Jennifer" (US #60)Can #32), "La La La" (US #9)(Can #7), and "The Drum" (US #29)(Can #7) (written by Alan O'Day). Some of these songs were produced by Jackie Mills, a Hollywood record producer, who also produced the Brady Bunch Kids. In Canada "Hey Mister Sun" reached #19, "Cried Like A Baby" reached #10, and "Waiting At The Bus Stop" reached #31.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bobby_Sherman

Thanks, Penny Lane. Bobby Sherman was adorable! He shared the wall space in my pre-teen bedroom, soon after, David Cassidy. Then came Steven Tyler (not sure why, now that I think of it!!!??? Wow, I grew up fast. Now, I would put up a Robert Plant poster but I'm a little old for that and it would greatly annoy my husband!!!

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Flying High

By STEVE KURUTZ

New York Times

Published: September 21, 2003

thanks for passing on the good read.

You're a wealth of knowledge, Mr. Jones.

I never knew the plane had so many different leasee's.

Thought it was only for the Zeps.

I bet the clean up crew has a few stories to tell :rolleyes:

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thanks for passing on the good read.

You're a wealth of knowledge, Mr. Jones.

I never knew the plane had so many different leasee's.

Thought it was only for the Zeps.

I bet the clean up crew has a few stories to tell :rolleyes:

eeeewwww.............soiled sheets and dirty dragon suits!!!! :wacko:

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