from the Guy Who Knows
The original plan called for me to be in the studio last fall when Dion, now going by his full name, Dion DiMucci, recorded Yo Frankie—his first rock 'n' roll album after a decade of recording only Jesus songs. But Zach Glickman, Dion's manager, thought better of the idea. "He doesn't even want me there," Glickman said. "You have to realize this is the toughest record of his career. He's not a nineteen-year-old kid anymore. He's a fifty-year-old man and this could be his last shot."
Glickman mentioned, however, that Dion would be returning to his old neighborhood in the Bronx to present a signed copy of his autobiography, The Wanderer, to the branch library there. A crew from Entertainment Tonight would be tailing him, and there would also be a photographer from People magazine. So one more putz with a notebook wasn't going to make a difference.
"You can see where he grew up," Glickman said, shrugging.
The photographer on assignment from People turned out to be David Gahr, an old pal of Dion's. We piled into the hired car, with Dion sitting between me and Glickman in back, Gahr up front with the driver, and the TV crew following us over the Major Deegan Expressway in their van.
"You're looking good," Gahr told Dion, turning round to face him.
"A little heavier, though?" Dion asked.
"Maybe in the face," Gahr admitted. "But it looks good on you."