She was the dizzy, daffy lead singer. He was the smooth lead guitarist and main songwriter. He kept fooling around on her, yet they convinced themselves that theirs awas a romance for the ages. So, since every bar in town held a temptress for him (Hamilton’s hosted two), the couple decided to to move west and seek their fortune without distraction.
Whereupon he ran off with a young goddess at the first road stop which let them play. Thus Elly Orb abruptly became a solo act.
The rest is history—or a sitcom, depending on who you hear it from and how you choose to take it. Erstwhile hubby Henry Brown is stuck running a diner in the Midwest. He’s lost several lawsuits (and appeals) where he claimed credit not only for the songs on Elly Orb’s debut album but her entire persona.
Shame on Elly for not copyrighting her style and self sooner. Might have saved her some time at trial. Instead, she had to shlep into court and prove she was real, rather than a figment of her ex-husband’s imagination.
Did we say husband? One of Elly’s clever lawyers discovered that she and Henry were never legally married. A surprise to both of them (long involved story, that) but a welcome one to Elly.
Readers of gossip columns know this all transpired years ago. So why rehash it here?
Because Henry Brown is back in town. Not with a band, but with a brand of muffin, and a threat to upstage his ex-non-wife one more time.