I had no idea who Cooper really is - or at least is now. The
scariest thing about spending time with offstage Cooper is trying
to figure out, premeeting, what I should wear for heading out onto
a
golf course with him. A pale green straitjacket (sleeves
dangling, of course)? Sherbet-pink bondage pants? A sun visor with
chains? After all, until that first moment I meet him at the
Riverview Golf Course in
Mesa,
Arizona, he is still an angry rock
god to me - not Coop, as his friends call him, a 59-year-old father
of three who loves to shop (he has 17 televisions), prefers golfing
in the earliest hours of
Phoenix daylight when he's home, and goes
head-to-head with
Kenny G - yes,
that Kenny
G - at pro-am golf tournaments. His recent memoir,
Alice Cooper, Golf Monster: A Rock 'n'
Roller's 12 Steps to Becoming a Golf Addict, is as
much Cooper's rules for a great game as it is a romp through
a life in rock.
And even though a quick premeeting
Google search of the terms
Alice Cooper and
golf puts my mind at ease, I am relieved to see him
wearing a standard-issue sun visor and
polo shirt when he arrives
at the golf course with his longtime teacher and friend, golf pro
Jim Mooney.
JUST ABOUT the only things Cooper and his
stage persona have in common are a name and a mischievous sense of
humor. Actually, Cooper (born Vincent Damon Furnier) is pretty sure
that Alice wouldn't have much respect for his offstage life. "I
don't have lunch with him. I don't talk to him," says golf Cooper
of the stage villain. "I know what he's going to do because I
control him, but I am totally entertained by him myself. When you
get to be the Sheriff of Nottingham and not
Robin Hood, when you
get to be
Bela Lugosi and not Van Helsing - that's the most fun
thing in the world."