Rick Springfied reveals intimate details of his life in autobiography

Rick Springfield tried to hang himself at 17, but the knot unraveled. Shortly thereafter, he and his band were dodging bullets in Vietnam while touring for troops.

Those are just two startling narratives in Springfield's autobiography, "Late, Late at Night," which looks at the effects of depression, dropping acid in the 1970s, and going 10-toes with women -- including his then 15-year-old "enthusiastic" lover, "Exorcist" star Linda Blair.

In other words, this self-penned memoir is exactly the grain of page-turner stargazers may want to read -- an honest, well-written self-appraisal from a sex symbol singer.

"Other musicians and friends say, 'What the (expletive) are you thinking -- being so honest?' " Springfield, 61, says.

He had felt nervous about making his private life "open and bare," but he laid the truth out, full-speed ahead.

"That's the way I write songs. You just kind of hide it a little more in songs," he says.

A die-hard fan tells me she won't read "Late, Late at Night," for fear it may burst her Springfield bubble. I tell this to Springfield. He laughs and says he doesn't hold it against her.

"I've had a couple of reactions from women like that. They're disappointed," he says.

"I feel the same way (about other celebrity disclosures). There are certain people that I like that I don't want to know that stuff about."

But he says most fan reactions have been good.

"A lot of people say they aren't surprised. The sexual stuff shouldn't be a surprise to anybody," he says. "That's just life as a human being. I don't pretend to be anything else."

Some fans told him they bought the book for friends and siblings struggling with depression.

"That has been a positive thing for me."

Among major revelations in the book (as told in a breezy mist), one part that strikes emotionally is when the 10-year-old Australian Springfield says goodbye to his boyhood dog, Elvis.

That event -- followed by losses of other dogs later in life -- emits the feel of a "Citizen Kane"/Rosebud profundity.

That's probably a slight overstatement, but Springfield repeatedly visits adieus to canines and other animals, eventually demanding a record label place a photo of his bull terrier Ronnie on the cover of his 1981 star-forming album, "Working Class Dog."

When I bring this issue up, he sounds somber.

"It's still in me," he says.

More than a year ago, he lost another dog, and he's yet to overcome the sorrow.

"I still have photos of him everywhere. I was kind of waiting to get past the pain, but it takes a long time."

Dogs provide him "a real healing."

"I'm really desperate to get another one. I'm just waiting for the right time."

ON THE ROAD AND SEA

Like some other celebrities, Springfield this November will host a personalized concert-and-party cruise, his fourth. He sails the seas to Grand Cayman islands, Jamaica and Ocho Rios.

"We do a beach concert. We all go swimming. We do a lido deck concert and a cocktail party. You meet people in the hall at 2 o'clock in the morning, and stumble into the piano bar and play songs you've never played before."

He asserts it's the most fun he and his band get all year.

"It's a five-day drinking party."

On this year's cruise, he and his old group, Zoot, will reunite for the first time in 40 years.

"I'm jazzed about that," he says. "The bass player (Beeb Birtles) went on to form the Little River Band. The singer (Darryl Cotton) became a big TV star in Australia.

"Everyone has gone on to have done things. So getting back together is not a bunch of guys quitting their day jobs to get together to play."

The cruise signifies how deeply he embraces followers.

"The fans -- you're with them all the time now. You go out on the road -- that's your connection."

Springfield fans are legendarily devout. Some call him the king of the MILFs and the king of the cougars.

Quite a few fans will co-star in a fall documentary that revolves around Springfield's concerts and cruises.

"They (the documentarians) go to fans' houses and talk to their husbands about it. It's pretty heavy stuff," he says. "Some of these fans have been with me for 30 years."

Thirty years is longer than most marriages and friendships, as you know, with or without consummation.

Doug Elfman's column appears Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays. Contact him at delfman@reviewjournal.com. He blogs at reviewjournal.com/elfman.