Used to see Ric Ocasek on Newbury Street, back when it had actual culture to offer. Couldn’t miss him, all 6′ 5″ and maybe 140 pounds of him. In the Avenue Victor Hugo Bookstore, with his ’80s hair teased up, it looked like he’d brush the ceiling. Truthfully, I was never a big fan of The Cars. I liked their stuff as catchy pop tunes, and that’s it. But I knew that Ric was fighting the good fight, giving _scores_ of Boston bands a leg up, with free studio time so they could cut demos (and maybe actual albums, not sure). He gave back, big time, to the scene that made him, and an argument could be made that without his help, the Boston scene in the ’80s might not have existed, or been much, much different. Never spoke to him. Never shook his hand to thank him for it. And tonight, I wish I had.
Inside the mind of author Michael Marano 