(Oldest Living Confederate Groupie Page 5
of 9)
(It should be noted that during our time together, Hamzy tells several stories that seem too outrageous to be true. My efforts to verify her more fantastic accounts were generally unsuccessful, as most of the artists she mentioned either officially declined to comment (Def Leppard, Three Doors Down, Slipknot, Sammy Hagar) or simply didn't return numerous phone calls and emails (Huey Lewis, Gene Simmons, Paul Stanley, Don Henley, Eddie Money, Cheech & Chong, Cheap Trick, Lindsay Buckingham). It should also be noted that no artists officially denied Hamzy's stories.)
It's getting to be late afternoon, and we decide to head over to the University of Arkansas campus. Hamzy recently learned that her 1974 yearbook photo is on display in the alumni office and she wants to see it. Marching up to the elderly woman at the reception desk, she says in her boozy, booming drawl: "My name is Connie Hamzy. I went to school here a long time ago and I heard you had my picture up on the wall."
The woman comes from behind the counter and leads Hamzy to a display of notable and controversial students from the '70s. In addition to Hamzy--who is described as, "The Little Rock groupie immortalized in Grand Funk's song American Band "--there are photos of the university's "resident Communist" and the editor of the school's first and only underground newspaper. Hamzy's photo is stunning: Long dark hair cascading around shoulders, a hint of mischief and world-weariness in her gorgeous brown eyes. But someone incorrectly spelled her name "Hamsey" on the placard. When Hamzy catches the error, she screams at the receptionist, "How could you fucking misspell my name? Don't you have me in your records somewhere? Couldn't you look it up? This is so fucked !"
Hamzy has been drinking wine all day, and the smell of liquor is strong on her breath. The receptionist is clearly frightened. She hustles backward toward the phone on the desk, announcing in a shaky voice, "I'm calling my supervisor." Hamzy continues her drunken tirade: "You cashed my parents' tuition checks, but you can't fucking spell our name right? What kinda shit is that?" The receptionist is dialing the phone. Connie looks over to me: "Come on. Let's get the fuck out of here."
Hamzy left college before finishing her sociology degree. To support her groupie lifestyle, she's worked part-time jobs that allow her the flexibility to travel and go to shows. She's done alterations for J.C. Penney, handed out food stamps to the needy, and bred Persian cats. Nowadays, she works weekends at the Little Rock Zoo, renting out wagons and baby strollers for "extra beer and weed money," and because her boss lets her off work for shows. "The gigs have always been the most important thing," she says. Throughout much of the '80s, Connie was a substitute teacher at an elementary school. "I would bring my students tour books and T-shirts and guitar picks from gigs. I even had them write letters to Kiss."
( Jump to Page: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9)