I have been putting on shows since I was a Junior at Weber High School in Chicago.  That was in 1977 and classic rock (which wasn’t classic yet) was my thing.  CHICAGO, STYX, RUSH, Led Zeppelin, UFO…the list goes on of the bands whose t-shirts filled my dresser drawers at the time.

As I got more and more into the business, I was using most of the major local acts to do parties, festivals and special events.  Then I began promoting my own shows.  It was scary and risky (still is), but I stuck to it, among a few other business initiatives I was involved in then.

The first real “national act” that I could get a hold of (and afford) was a band that started in New Jersy in 1958, Joey Dee and the Starliters.  However, I was still a young buck, neither truly aware nor appreciative of who or what this band was. 

In 1961, the band got booked at an intimate club on 45^th Street in New York City.  It was supposed to be a one-off gig, but it turned into a year-long craze.  They got lucky because the first night they performed their up-beat and new “Rock and Roll” music, a Hollywood starlet and a Russian prince happened to be in the audience and danced all night.  The gossip columns picked up the story the next day, and from that moment on, lines to get into the Peppermint Lounge were wrapped around the building.  Joey Dee and the Starliters became the house band for the next twelve months.

It became the “It” place to be.  Celebrities including Jackie Kennedy, Judy Garland, John Wayne…the list went on and on, “twisted” the night away on a regular basis.  Joey wrote a song to go along with the dance, aptly named, “The Peppermint Twist” citing the nightclub that made the dance popular.  Joey Dee’s variation of the 1958 Chubby Checker hit, “The Twist” became a resurgent craze of the popular dance move, reflected by the song’s first line of lyrics, “Well, they’ve got a new dance, and it goes like this.”

Between the live performances and the national release of the song that went to #1 on the charts and certified gold, Joey took the sensation to the next level to capitalize on the success of the dance and the club.  By the end of 1961 they put together a film entitled, “Hey, Let’s Twist” that fictionalized the rise of the Peppermint Lounge and featured The Starliters in the musical film.

The stage presentation of “Jersey Boys” made famous the fact that actor Joe Pesci put the dynamic duo of Frankie Valli and Bob Gaudio together for what would ultimately be an historic collaboration.  But the part-time barber, part-time musician also played guitar now and then with The Starliters.  In fact, Pesci’s film debut was an uncredited appearance in “Hey, Let’s Twist”!

And speaking of pre-famous celebs, Felix Cavaliere, Gene Cornish and Eddie Brigati, who along with Dino Danelli later became “The Young Rascals” and the legendary Jimi Hendrix were all also Starliters for brief stints!  Ronnie Spector’s Ronettes sang backup for the Starliters and The Beatles opened for the band one year!

As it is with many genres of music, there are highs and lows with regards to demands, especially in the 60s when many bands were riding high on the charts until four mop-top Englishmen hit the scene.  Many of the Rock-and-Rollers from 1955-1965 took a kind of nose-dive with their record and ticket sales.  The Starliters hung in there, though and kept entertaining for decades.

So I was “making my bones” in the entertainment biz using acts from that era including Joey Dee and the Starliters, The Tokens (“Lion Sleeps Tonight”) and Danny and the Juniors (“At The Hop”). 

Back then, I was a suit-and-tie guy, mainly because I was blessed with having an Italian-tailor father.  I picked the guys up at the airport for the first show I was to do with them, and they all made a big deal about my “style.” 

This incarnation of the band was made up of Joey Dee, Bobby Valli (Frankie’s brother) and Dave Brigati (The Rascals’ Eddie Brigati’s brother).

“You must be a real Chicago “hot-shot,” said Dave.  “You could join us on stage with that suit!”

Later on, I saw what he meant.  I had a royal blue custom-made suit on earlier in the day.  They hit the stage later that evening, all sporting really nice blue suits!

The show went fabulous, everybody danced and sang along.  There was a certain wholesomeness about their music that felt like a hug from my dad.  We subsequently did a few more shows together and became very good friends.  They were just good guys, each with their own history, and their own career paths.

I kept in touch with all three of the guys, both as a group and for individual shows.  Bobby did Four Seasons hits and Joey kept going with the Starliters.  I remember after a show with the guys, Joey pulled me aside and asked, “Do you remember the first show we did together? We all had blue suits on and you complimented me on my blue cuff links.  Well, you have been great to us, I want you to have them,” he said.  My mouth dropped and my cuffs were linked!

After a couple of years or so, Dave kind of backed away from the band.  We would have these in-depth conversations on the phone every couple of weeks or so.  We would talk about the industry, and how he kind of became soured by it.  He even stopped performing after a while, as he really developed a phobia about flying.

We fell out of touch for a number of years.  Then I saw a Facebook post by Bobby Valli.  It was so nice to see him performing again.  I still had his number, so I called him.  He said he was out doing local shows and special events.  His voice was as good as ever, sounding just like Frankie over the phone.

Then I thought I would call Joey Dee.  At 85, he sounds as good as ever.  And he still performs with his son down in Florida.  We reminisced about those times we worked together, their perfectly tailored suits, the fun choreography, the sing-a-long songs.  It was a fabulous trip down Memory Lane, and we vowed to do something together again.

The next day, I tried the number for Dave Brigati.  It rang and rang and rang.  As I was about to hang up, a soft female voice answered.  “Hi, is the Dave Brigati’s phone by any chance,” I asked.  “Yes, but we are in the hospital, he really isn’t taking any calls right now.  Who is this?”  “Ron Onesti from Chicago,” I answered.  After she repeated my name, I heard a faint, “Gimme the phone.”

It was Dave, audibly weak, but still somewhat upbeat.  I didn’t want to stay on the phone long, but we hadn’t spoken for years, and I just wanted to catch up with him.  “I want to come to Jersey to see you,” I said.  “You better hurry,” Dave said in his usual quick-witted way.  We said our goodbyes and just before hanging up I heard a faint, “I love you, Ron.”

The next day I saw a post by Bobby Valli.  Dave had passed away.   I had no idea.

I went into my cuff link case and found those blue links the guys gave me years ago.  I put on that blue suit (but definitely couldn’t button it).  I played “The Peppermint Twist” and said a short prayer for my buddy Dave.  These guys are part of my history, and part of Rock and Roll history.  But truly, they are like uncles and heroes to me, forever twistin’ on earth and now, in Heaven.