Author�s note: This story originally appeared in the Jan-Feb-Mar 1996 edition, Vol. 7, No. 20 of Proximity, the Led Zeppelin Collector�s Journal published by Hugh Jones. The editor himself signed it and claimed it was the �best scam ever�. A copy of the original article appears below this entry.
-A.L.
After our we lost our Page & Plant virginity in March of �95 at the shows in Austin and Houston, we figured a couple of shows on the second leg of the No Quarter tour in the fall was a must. Still in school, we looked at our schedules and decided that the gigs in Hartford, Conn. and Boston, Mass. were the only ones we were going to be able to make. Fine with me as traveling was half the fun.
After a very brief brush with Robert in Austin earlier that year, our appetites were merely wet and we were hungry for something a little more significant. Our ultimate goal was to get backstage and in the pre-September 11 era, that sort of thing was slightly possible with a little bit of planning. Recently I learned that there is some dude that has snuck into every Super Bowl and finally, in 2005, he failed for the first time ever after Rick Reilly outed him in a Sports Illustrated article a few months earlier. Think that, but scaled down a bit and you�ll get an idea of what our mission was.
Mike had brought his mandolin in the hopes of getting it autographed by Jimmy Page if we were lucky enough to run into him.
After spending most of the day in Austin watching the method of operation, we noticed the orchestra arrived early in the day to assemble and rehearse for the evening�s show. Based solely on one observation seven months earlier, we pinned our hopes on the off chance that Hartford would be no different.
With the rain pissing down in Hartford in the early afternoon hours of October 21, 1995, we patiently waited in our car parked across the street from the service entrance of the Hartford Civic Center. This was really the only shot and after spending all morning there, we demanded success of ourselves after the mental and emotional investment we had made in crafting our plan.
Finally, around 3:00pm, we noticed a couple of people walk around the corner, down the loading dock ramp towards the single door that led into the building. A simple knock beckoned a security card from inside who opened the door and let the couple in. Over the course of the next 10-15 minutes other people began to arrive, some solo and others in pairs or small groups. Not knowing how much longer this was going to last, we decided it was time to make a move. We gathered the mandolin and our briefcases, exited the car and went across the street, waiting just up the block from the entrance.
Just like clockwork, a couple of people in trademark black trench coats carrying cases that probably contained violins headed towards the civic center. After they passed us, we casually tacked on to the back of them so as to appear that we were one foursome heading to our concert. Down the loading dock ramp and up to the slightly ajar door we walked. The security guard simply tipped his hat and gave us a smile as we headed inside.
We had accomplished the first part of our mission, and I didn�t know if it was because we didn�t really expect our idea to work or if we just didn�t plan far enough ahead, but once inside, we had no idea what to do.
After the ear-candy, we sat it silence until we noticed someone walking amongst the rows of seats below us. The individual had a gig bag slung over his shoulder and a closer look revealed that it was bass player and Robert�s son-in-law Charlie Jones. Recognizing the opportunity in front of us, we left our seats and approached him. Mike asked Charlie how one would go about getting a mandolin signed by Jimmy Page. Charlie suggested that we ask �Rangi�, Jimmy�s personal assistant.
That was our cue to once again head backstage, this time in search of �Rangi�
Again backstage, the roadies were hard at work and there was still no sign of celebrity. We began to feel a little more comfortable as faces we had recognized from earlier were now nodding their heads at as. We had been back there long enough to the point that people must have just assumed that we belonged there.
As we continued to walk around the space backstage we came upon a rather strange sight � the entire Egyptian orchestra that toured with Page & Plant that year were gathered around a ping-pong table, four of them engaged in a match. Amused, Mike and I stood and watched quietly and asked those not playing for their autographs. In hindsight, not a good idea as it could have blown our cover, but a nice memento nonetheless.
After they finished their game and vacated the table Mike and I stood there wondering what to do next. At that point, hurdy-gurdy player Nigel Eaton passed by, picked up a paddle, looked directly at me and said, �Have a game?�
I figured playing ping pong with the band backstage would help us blend in. Nigel grabbed a nearby roadie and Mike and I played a few games of doubles until he shanked the ball into the crawl space above the table. As Nigel Eaton and Mike climbed a ladder and crawled around looking for a lost ping pong ball in the rafters, I couldn�t help but take a mental snapshot of the situation and laugh to myself.
We asked Nigel about �Rangi.� Once we had a description of him, we knew who to approach and after some more waiting around, �Rangi� finally appeared backstage. We approached him politely and Mike asked him if he could get his mandolin signed by Jimmy. �Rangi� said that Jimmy wouldn�t be arriving until 8:00pm and if we wait around, he�d see what he could do for us. Happy with that response, we found the nearest wall, stood up against it, and waited some more. Sure enough, 8:00pm rolls around. The opening band, the Tragically Hip, was already on stage when we spotted Jimmy walking towards us. He walked by us and into his dressing room. Minutes later, Rangi came out and told us to come with him. He led us into a small hallway and shut the door behind us. There in front of us were two more doors, one marked �Jimmy� and the other �Robert�. �Rangi� walked into Jimmy�s dressing room and left us alone in the hallway only to return a second later, look at us and say, �O.K. guys, come on in.�
An entire day of planning and waiting culminated with a rewarding five minutes, the perfect conclusion for a persistent
pair of guys.
Thanks for Reading,
A.L./M.T.
Vol. 7, No. 20
Jan.-Feb.-Mar. 1996
