The Rain, The Park & Missing Cowsills

Since the 24/7 Hurricane Katrina coverage, it's hard to keep up on the stories that matter -- like the Robert Blake Civil Trial. Or Phil Spector's murder trial! I have to admit, I haven't been on the CourtTV website since the Michael Jackson Trial ended.

But today, out of boredom, I did a Yahoo news search for "The Cowsills." I know that one of the singing family members - Bill - has been sick for a long time, and I wanted to see if he died. I didn't feel like wading through the Cowsills' mess of a website.

I was amazed to learn that Barry Cowsill is missing in New Orleans.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with the Cowsills, they were a family musical group that hit the Top 40 in 1968. They had a few snappy years up until the early '70s, when the band broke up. There was Barbara, who had a short dykey haircut that the kids called "Mini Mom" because she was so hip; some ugly older brothers Bill and Bob; Paul, the family roadie; Barry, who was a hottie; John, also a hottie; and cute little Susan Cowsill. They also had another brother, Dick, who was serving in Viet Nam. The family was managed by the old man - Bud Cowsill - who from what I have read was kind of a dick. Apparently, he refused to let Dick perform with the family because he supposedly had no musical talent, so he was exiled to Viet Nam.

I liked Barry and John because they didn't have bad teeth like their older brothers. Susan and Mini Mom were non-entities to me. I was 11 when the Cowsills debuted in 16 Magazine, and Barry and John were just a few years older. I read 16 Magazine voraciously as a preteen, mainly for stories about The Monkees and Dino, Desi & Billy.

The Cowsills were a three-hit wonder band. Their big hits were "The Rain, the Park & Other Things," "Hair" and "Indian Lake." I owned all three 45s. I never purchased their albums. Anyway, my friend Sherry Mammina and I used to make fun of the Cowsills. One fine summer day in 1970 on Sherry's front porch, we cut out like 80 pictures of Barry Cowsill's head and pasted them on poster board. We drew weird bodies on all the heads and gave each one a name that started with the letter "B" - Buriel, Biff, Bozo, Bunky, Borraine - I think you get the gist of our hilarious 7th grade humor. We weren't even stoned and we were laughing our asses off.

I guess we thought the Cowsills were conceited because they thought they were hot shit. I was secretly fascinated by any child actor or performer back then. I liked the Cowsills' lush melodies and harmonies. They were all pretty talented and I was just an untalented fat girl growing up in Des Plaines, Ill.

The Cowsills made a lot of money and their rags-to-riches story was often re-told in 16 Magazine. They were originally from Newport, R.I. and were down to their last penny before "The Rain, the Park & Other Things" became a huge hit on the Top 40. They had leigons of horny preteen fans like myself. I remember listening to "The Rain, the Park & Other Things" when I was supposed to be doing my math homework, thinking unpure thoughts.

But like most suddenly famous teeny bopper groups, the Cowsills fell out of favor. In addition to their three hit songs, the Cowsills are perhaps best known for making one of the worst career decisions in the history of show biz, when they turned down a deal to do their own TV sitcom, which eventually became "The Partridge Family."

The Cowsills became poor again, and through the years, they would occassionally turn up on those pathetic "Where are they now" features. Mini Mom and Bud got divorced, and both parents died of smoking-related diseases.

But thanks to the magic of the Internet, the Cowsills have created their own website, with a million pages and pix. They have a huge following of middle-aged female fans who communicate with each other on the "Cowsill Chatter" boards.

The Cowsills are always begging for money from their fans to finance their CD projects or one of Bill's hip replacements. The only Cowsill who's been able to make a decent living at being a professional musician is John, who sings the Carl Wilson vocals in the Beach Boys' touring band. I saw John last summer at a Beach Boys concert, and have to admit, he was damn good. Not that I'm crazy about the Beach Boys. I went because the tickets were free.

God bless, the Cowsills, though, you have to give all of them credit for playing their hearts out at flea markets and other dinky club gigs. As long as they're playing other people's songs, they're all right. I listened to some samples of John's music on their website, and it was some overproduced Jesus freak crap.

I have to say, when I saw that Barry Cowsill was missing in New Orleans, I wasn't surprised. If it wasn't a hurricane, it would have been something else. He seems to be the most disassociated with the family's website. His page hasn't been updated in like five years. What scant, new biographical information that's available about him alludes to problems with booze, pills and suicide attempts.

According to Susan Cowsill, who had moved to New Orleans six weeks before Hurricane Katrina (shit this family has bad luck), she last heard from Barry on Sept. 1, who had ridden out the storm on the secocnd floor of a warehouse in the French Quarter. The threads on Cowsill Chatter are like a million miles long, but apparently he called from a pay phone at the Convention Center. God help him. He said he didn't want to get on a bus with "murderers and dredges of society" to be evacuated out of that poor, sorry, toxic fish bowl.

Now his family and fans are frantickly looking for him. One of their fans has organized a telephone search party, with fans calling shelters, hospitals and various businesses in the French Quarter. There are numerous messages posted on the Cowsill chatter boards, about contacting someone named Anne Marie for lists of places to call in Texas, fans who can't sleep at night knowing that Barry is missing, etc. Anne Marie has been on the computer non-stop for the past three weeks trying to help the family. (Don't these broads have jobs?)

Susan went to view her apartment in NOLA, which was demolished, but did manage to find her cat. She also checked out Barry's apartment in the French Quarter and all the bars, knowing those are the first places he'd head to, but he's still a no show.

His name is posted annonymously on a "found" site, but I think it's a hoax. The dude is probably wandering through the sledge looking for some junk to shoot up, drowned or was murdered. Or he just doesn't give a fuck about contacting his family. Probably the latter.

It's always a drama with the Cowsills. They thrive on it. On top of Barry being MIA, Bill, feeling left out, had to go and break his good hip. I think the Cowsills are excitement addicts.

I do hope they find Barry, though. It's amazing to me that "True Hollywood Stories" never did a show on the Cowsills, because I think their story is perfect. I'm sure they have some horrible stories to tell about their old man squandering all their money.

For those of you who are Cowsill fans and want to post nasty comments, I think it's time to move forward. This group hasn't had a hit in 35 years, so get over it!

But I promise to keep all you updated on the whereabouts of Barry Cowsill, and if he's found. I only hope the family has some of his DNA in case they have to identify a corpse. I'd like to know what happened to him. I don't think they're going to find him for awhile, if ever.