In Her Opinion

Eric Clapton Is Coming, Eric Clapton is coming.

Laurie Cohn

Mirror contributing writer

   Those of you old enough to remember, or sufficiently well-versed in rock & roll, know Eric Clapton is God. God. And God is moving to Santa Monica. Growing up in L.A., I know how to behave around celebrities. But Eric Clapton? He’s not a celebrity, he’s God.
   If I see him in a local place, like Wildflour Pizza, ordering a slice, I know I’m supposed to remain cool, and not look his way, or at most give a slight smile and a “Hello.” This I’ve always done with entertainers. But I can’t guarantee my coolness in this case. I’ll probably humiliate myself, and him, by screaming, “Oh my, well, God, it’s you, Slowhand, Mr. Bell Bottom Blues, it’s you, it’s you.” Yes, that will probably make him glad to be in the neighborhood. Luckily, Santa Monica is known for having its share of loonies, so he’ll probably just assume I’m one of them.
   But don’t you see, he’s not just a celebrity of the moment. He’s eternal, one-of-a-kind, timeless. Musical trends change, but Clapton always puts out quality music. Cream. Or, for you purists, The Cream. One of the greatest and loudest bands ever. How could three guys make so much noise? Drug and personality problems aside, they got along well enough to create some songs that remain, over thirty years later, staples on FM rock stations. Derek & The Dominoes can be summed up in one word -- Layla.    The Yardbirds? Oh, just a little band that launched the careers of Jimmy Page and Jeff Beck, in addition to Santa Monica’s newest resident. Lest you think it ends there, have you ever noticed his name on some of the Lethal Weapon movies? Oh, yeah, Clapton is not only God, he’s just so incredibly cool.
   Eric Clapton in Santa Monica. If he ever falls on hard times, he can bring his guitar down to the Promenade and play for change. Though he’s a huge international star, my hunch is he considers himself just a musician at heart, who would play for free if his fate changed. Maybe he’ll play some gigs at McCabe’s, as a gift to all his loyal local fans.
   Will he do regular Santa Monica activities like the rest of us? Will he buy a pair of Roller blades and cruise along the bike path? Will he sit at a coffee shop (hopefully he can find one somewhere in our city) and nurse an ice blended mocha? Even more important, does he take whipped cream or not? Will he sit on his patio, playing a little acoustic guitar as the sun goes down? Will he go to the Farmer’s Market for fruit and flowers. He’ll learn that not only is the stuff fresh, but inexpensive too, and with what Clapton just spent on his house, he may need to pinch a few pennies. We all know how expensive real estate has become in Santa Monica; maybe that’s why his new place only has one bedroom.
   The first song I ever knew was “Sunshine of Your Love,” one of Cream’s biggest hits. My first idol was Ginger Baker. I even wanted to be a drummer for a few pre-teen years. But Clapton, that voice, those crisp notes, those great suits (he remains one of the best dressed rock stars ever). He never was one to jump around in spandex pants. In a business filled with yesterday’s heroes, he remains an icon, an influence to his contemporaries and the next generation of musicians. You never hear a bad word about Eric Clapton. Oh sure, he’s had his personal problems. Who hasn’t? But he is known for being a good, kind man. In fact, when The Beatles weren’t getting along during the “White Album” sessions, it was Clapton who brought out their best behavior.
   Forget the beach -- our pride and joy—we now have God in our midst. People may come from all over searching for a glimpse of the man with the magic fingers. Santa Monica may become a pilgrimage site, just like Jerusalem and Mecca.
   Eric, Mr. Clapton, God, if you don’t know anyone in the area, I’d be happy to show you around, buy you a cup of English Breakfast tea, teach you how to kayak, anything to help you settle in to your new life in our special little part of the world. Welcome.