Cher sang with Ray Charles, Frank Sinatra, Elton John . . . and now, with my son Jim McGorman.
This spring I flew to Las Vegas with my daughter Suzanne to see my son sing a duet with Cher at Caesars Palace. It was the same place where, at the age of 22, I saw Elvis perform. Even though Elvis left the building long ago, somehow this sequinned place still holds the ghostly glimmer of lost dreams.
Although Jim has had a successful career for 14 years as a musician, singer-songwriter and most recently toured as MD (musical director) for Avril Lavigne, nothing he has accomplished thrilled me as much as this duet with the Diva, who is my contemporary.
I recall when Cher was a teenager. She was singing with Sonny, “I got you Babe.” I ironed and dyed my hair to look like her. I bought a Lerner’s version of her crazy big bell-bottom pants. I painted my eyes with heavy black eyeliner. I was a Cher copycat and fan, even then. I watched her life and loves and felt a generational kinship, in a kind of parallel universe.
Strangely, my love life mimicked hers. Divorced from my childhood sweetheart and then widowed from my second husband, I dated later in life. I watched her be single and sensational. Somehow she gave me hope. For years I watched as she boldly said many of the things I thought but only she was courageous enough to utter. Once on a talk show she referred to herself as a “serial monogamist.” I loved that phrase and added it to my monologue.
When she found out our troops in Iraq could not get protective gear, she bought it for them!
When my son entered stage right playing keyboards and singing alone the Peter Cetera hit “After All,” I found myself digging my nails into my poor daughter’s arm. I was so nervous. She yelled in a whisper, “Mother!” “Sorry.” I winced, unaware of my reaction. After all, Cher sang with Ray Charles, Frank Sinatra, Elton John, Michael Jackson, to name a few, and now Jim McGorman. Watching a son join those ranks would make any mother anxious.
