In my opinion, it seems that the artistic and performance contributions of teenage heartthrob Leif Garrett are not adequately recognized. He warranted greater acknowledgment!
Across his journey, the one-time teen idol faced significant triumphs and setbacks. Unfortunately, his pursuit of highs through drug addiction, employed as a coping mechanism, ultimately led to the decline of his career…
Before observing him in his current state at 61, it might be advisable to brace yourself.
He was quite the heartthrob… Leif Garrett began his career as a child actor, and in the 1970s, he captured the admiration of young women when he transitioned to become a musician.
According to my mom, during trips to the grocery store with her parents, Leif’s face graced the covers of various teen magazines at the checkout lanes, causing a stir among fans.
The American singer-actor, born in Hollywood, California, made his debut at the age of 5 in the 1969 movie “Bob & Carol & Ted & Alice,” which ranked as the sixth highest-grossing film of the year.
Following this, the dreamy-eyed, blond heartthrob starred in the film “Walking Tall” and its two sequels. In 1983, he joined other teen heartthrobs, such as Matt Dillon, C. Thomas Howell, Patrick Swayze, and Tom Cruise, in Francis Ford Coppola’s “The Outsiders.”
Some may also recognize him from his roles in TV series like “Family,” “The Odd Couple” (1974), “Wonder Woman” (1978), and “CHiPs” (1979).
In 1977, he launched his inaugural album, “Leif Garret,” causing a fan frenzy with covers of popular songs such as “The Wanderer” (Dion), “Surfin’ USA” (The Beach Boys), and Paul Anka’s “Put Your Head on My Shoulder.”
At the peak of his success, Garrett, with his blond, unkempt hair, toured globally, eliciting ecstatic reactions from his predominantly young female fans.
“I was on a public appearance tour in Sydney, Australia, and they had to fly me in by helicopter. Then, I jumped into an armored car and drove into the theater through the back door. I’ve tried using a limo there before, but the fans almost tipped it over. I guess it’s an adrenaline rush for them. They just freak out. It’s very strange,” Garrett shared with New York Daily News in 1979.
Despite his music nearing the top of the charts, he grappled with management issues that made him feel like an “impostor.” The transition to adulthood posed another challenge for Garrett.
“I believe I was a good performer from the start, but I wish they had offered me singing lessons before making a record and engaging in the typical practice of punching in a sentence here or there or words or whatever,” Garrett stated in an interview.
“There’s a particular track (‘I Was Looking for Someone to Love’) that doesn’t even sound like me at all. I would even possibly say I wasn’t even on that track. And to me, that IS fraud. That’s like a Milli Vanilli situation, the difference being, of course, mine was blended many times with myself and somebody else.”
In 1979, Garrett’s career took a nosedive when, under the influence of alcohol and drugs, he crashed a car, sending it rolling down a hillside in North Hollywood. This tragic incident left his close friend Ronald Winkler paralyzed.
However, Garrett’s life took a further negative turn. In 1980, during what he describes as “the pinnacle of pinup fame,” he indulged in a lifestyle of sex, drugs, and rock and roll alongside the iconic Queen frontman, Freddie Mercury. This period coincided with the recording of Queen’s highly successful album “The Game,” featuring hits like “Crazy Little Thing Called Love” and “Another One Bites the Dust.” Garrett formed a friendship with the band, experiencing the real rock star life complete with girls and drugs.
Reflecting on this tumultuous time in an interview with Fox for the release of his memoir, “Idol Truth,” Garrett admitted, “I don’t think I was a very mature 16-year-old. I became mature very quickly because I was always surrounded by adults who were drinking and doing coke. I was a child, but being treated as an adult… And all of this was coming out of my pocket.”
He continued, “You know, I probably have the greatest fan base that I could ever imagine for myself. They have stuck with me through thick and thin. And as you know, I’ve gotten myself in plenty of bad situations. There was a lot of bad decision-making. But at the same time, I didn’t have the parental guidance that I should have at that time.”
Garrett has accumulated a lengthy list of charges, including dropping out of rehabilitation and encountering various legal issues. These incidents involved attempting to purchase drugs from undercover police and concealing heroin in his shoe.
Despite earnest attempts to rebuild his life and career, Garrett eventually regressed into his old habits. Due to his comical encounters with the law, Garrett was chosen to provide commentary on the comedy show “World’s Dumbest,” which highlights the antics of “most amazingly stupid” criminals.
The program also featured other celebrities known for their personal misadventures, such as Todd Bridges, Tonya Harding, Gary Busey, and Danny Bonaduce.
Subsequently, Garrett secured a prominent role on VH1’s “Celebrity Rehab with Dr. Drew,” a show he initially resisted participating in. Garrett accused the show of inducing a relapse for dramatic effect, a claim vehemently denied by VH1.
In an interview the LA Times, Garrett said: “They asked to get some footage of me using, and I said, ‘I haven’t been using. They said, ‘We really have to get footage of you using.’ Anyway, I was easily talked into showing them.”
When a counselor with the production called him out, suggesting he was still using, Garrett walked off the show saying: “This is insanity and quite honestly I don’t appreciate it.”
My Neighbor Ruined My Christmas Yard With a Mud Path — Karma Took Its Revenge
My neighbor Sharon is the type of person who competes over everything, even Christmas lights. When her petty jealousy turned my festive yard into a muddy mess, she thought she’d won. But karma struck her with a surprising twist and gave her the spotlight she deserved.
You ever have that one neighbor who seems to thrive on being a pain in the rear? For me, that’s Sharon. I’m Evelyn — 35, mom to two mischievous cats, and a lover of low-key Christmas cheer. I live in a quiet neighborhood, the kind where most people wave when they pass by.
But Sharon? She doesn’t just wave. She sizes up your yard, your decorations, and probably your soul, thinking of ways to OUTDO you.
A woman decorating a Christmas tree | Source: Unsplash
Last year, the Homeowners’ Association (HOA) hosted a “Best Christmas Yard” contest. Honestly, I wasn’t even planning to enter, but Sharon made it impossible to ignore.
“Hey, Evelyn!” she called out one November morning, leaning over our shared fence. Her nails were perfectly manicured — bright red, as if she’d already decided she was Mrs. Claus. “Are you decorating this year? For the contest?”
“What contest?” I asked, genuinely clueless.
Her smirk widened. “Oh, the HOA is hosting this fun little competition. Best yard gets a plaque or something. I figured you’d want to know. Not that I need the competition.”
An arrogant woman standing behind a fence | Source: Midjourney
I rolled my eyes. “Wow, Sharon. Humble as always.”
“Humble?” she scoffed. “I prefer the term ‘professionally festive.’ Someone has to set the neighborhood standard.”
She laughed like she’d already won. I just shrugged.
“Thanks for the heads-up. I almost forgot about that,” I said.
Sharon went all in. Two days later, her yard looked like Christmas had exploded. Inflatable Santa? Check. Reindeer? Check. Thousands of twinkling lights synced to “Jingle Bell Rock”? Double-check. She even roped off sections for photo ops, charging five bucks per picture.
A yard flaunting stunning Christmas decor | Source: Midjourney
“Five-dollar Christmas memories!” Sharon announced to anyone within earshot. “Limited time offer!”
Me? I threw up a few string lights, hung an old wreath I dug out from the attic, and set out some candy canes. It wasn’t much, but the neighborhood kids loved it. They’d walk by, munching cookies or tugging on their parents’ sleeves, pointing at my yard like it was Santa’s little hideout.
That was all I needed.
The HOA announced the winner at the annual block party. I wasn’t even paying attention until I heard my name.
“And the Best Christmas Yard goes to… EVELYN!”
I blinked in disbelief. My yard? Seriously?
A stunned woman | Source: Midjourney
I went up to accept the certificate, feeling more awkward than proud. From the corner of my eye, I saw Sharon standing stiff as a nutcracker. Her lips were pursed so tight I thought they’d disappear.
“Congratulations,” she said when I passed her on my way back to my seat. Her tone? Sweet as vinegar, with an undertone that could curdle eggnog.
“Oh my,” she continued, her smile so forced it looked like it was held together with Christmas ornament wire, “I’m just THRILLED for you. Who would’ve thought… a few candy canes and some string lights could beat my PROFESSIONAL display?”
“Thanks, Sharon,” I replied, keeping my voice light.
She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I’m sure it was just a clerical error. These things happen.”
An annoyed woman | Source: Midjourney
The rest of the evening, she avoided me, but I caught her glaring a few times. Her fake smile was so rigid I was half-expecting it to crack like an icicle.
Honestly, I thought that’d be the end of it… just some harmless competition. I should’ve known better. Especially with Sharon.
Christmas morning, I packed up the car and headed to my mom’s. She wasn’t doing great health-wise, so I wanted to spend the holiday with her. When I came back two days later, my jaw hit the floor.
There was a muddy path leading from the sidewalk straight to my front door. My yard — my clean, festive yard — was a disaster zone. Mud covered everything. And right next to it, in giant letters, was the message:
“BEST YARD.”
A yard with a muddy track | Source: Midjourney
I stared at it, rage bubbling up inside me. Who else could’ve done this? It was classic Sharon — over-the-top, childish, and just plain mean.
“I should go confront her,” I muttered, then quickly backtracked. “No, no. Confronting Sharon is like voluntarily walking into the Grinch’s cave. With a welcome mat. And maybe a fruit basket.”
I grabbed a shovel and trash bags, my internal monologue running wild. “Confrontation? Pfft. She’d probably have surveillance cameras. Or worse… witnesses prepared with sworn testimonies about my ‘aggressive yard behavior’.”
A woman holding a shovel on a muddy track | Source: Midjourney
Muttering under my breath, I started scooping the sloppy mud. “Petty, immature… How does she even have time for this? Miss ‘I sync my Christmas lights to Broadway musical numbers’.”
I paused, my shovel mid-scoop. “If I go over there, she’ll play the victim. She’ll have tea. Probably Christmas-themed. With little gingerbread man coasters.”
Another scoop of mud. “Nope. Not worth it. She’d turn this into a three-act Christmas drama where I’m the villain.”
As I continued scooping, my frustration grew. “Best yard, huh? More like best mud sculpture. Congratulations, Sharon. You’ve truly OUTDONE yourself this time.”
A frustrated woman with her face covered in mud | Source: Midjourney
I grabbed another trash bag, still grumbling. And as I started scooping up more mud, karma decided to make a surprise appearance.
“Evelyn! WAIT!”
I looked up to see Sharon sprinting toward me, her face pale as snow.
“What do you want?” I asked, holding my shovel mid-air. “Come to offer more landscaping advice?”
“Please don’t throw the mud away!” she begged, her voice shrill and desperate. She looked like a deer caught in headlights — if that deer was wearing designer winter boots and had a manicure.
An anxious woman screaming | Source: Midjourney
I blinked. “Why would I keep mud? You think I’m building a mud castle here? Planning some avant-garde Christmas sculpture?”
She hesitated, wringing her hands. “I, uh… I lost something. My engagement ring. I think it might’ve fallen off when I was… uh…”
“When you were writing ‘BEST YARD’ in my lawn?” I finished for her, raising an eyebrow. “How convenient.”
Her face turned beet red. “Look, just… don’t throw it out, okay? I’ll clean it up myself!”
I crossed my arms, smirking. The power dynamics had suddenly shifted, and I was living for every second. “Oh no, Sharon. You wanted to make a mess? Fine. But I’m finishing the cleanup. If your ring’s in here, you’re welcome to dig for it. In the dumpster!”
A furious woman frowning | Source: Midjourney
Her eyes widened in pure horror. “Evelyn, please —”
“Better get started,” I interrupted, tossing another shovelful of mud into the trash bag. “I hear mud is great for exfoliation. Consider this your Christmas spa treatment.”
Sharon looked trapped, like a perfectly coiffed rat in a very expensive mousetrap.
An hour later after I was done, she ended up elbow-deep in garbage, sifting through mud in her designer boots.
“You find it yet?” I called, standing on the porch with a cup of coffee, enjoying the show like it was my personal holiday parade.
“Not. Helping,” she snapped, wiping mud from her face. Her perfectly highlighted hair now looked like a mud sculpture gone wrong.
A woman sifting through a garbage bag | Source: Midjourney
Neighbors started coming out of their houses, pretending to “take a walk” or “check the mail.” Soon, half the block was watching Sharon dig through trash bags like a raccoon… a very well-dressed, increasingly frustrated raccoon.
One guy across the street whispered to his wife, “Did you see her boots? That’s gotta be at least $400 ruined right there.”
“I’d be more worried about the coat,” his wife replied, stifling a laugh. “Those designer labels don’t exactly scream ‘mud-friendly’.”
Sharon overheard and shot them a look that could freeze Santa’s sleigh mid-flight.
An annoyed woman frowning | Source: Midjourney
An hour later, she let out a triumphant shriek that could’ve shattered glass. She held up the ring like she’d won an Olympic medal for Most Dramatic Mud Excavation.
“Found it!” she yelled.
I clapped slowly, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “Congrats. Now about the rest of the mud…”
She shot me a death glare so intense it could’ve melted the North Pole. She shoved the ring into her pocket, and stomped back to her house. The sound of her squelching boots was music to my ears.
Close-up shot of a woman holding a diamond ring | Source: Midjourney
The next morning, I stepped outside with a cup of coffee, expecting to see Sharon’s inflatable Santa waving cheerfully like always. But her yard was… EMPTY. No twinkling lights, no music, not even a stray candy cane. Just an eerie, stripped-down lawn that looked like it was bracing itself for a mid-January thaw.
“Whoa,” muttered Greg, my neighbor from two doors down, as he shuffled past with his dog. “Sharon finally gave up?”
“Looks like it,” I said, pretending to study my shrubs while biting back a grin.
The neighborhood buzzed about it all day. Apparently, Sharon had packed everything up at the crack of dawn. Rumor was, she’d been too mortified to face anyone after her mud-wrestling performance in my yard. One neighbor swore she heard Sharon muttering something about how “the spotlight wasn’t worth it.”
An empty yard on a snowy day | Source: Midjourney
“More like the mud-light wasn’t worth it,” I mumbled to myself.
By afternoon, people were strolling by my yard to compliment my decorations again. “So simple, so sweet,” Mrs. Hargrove cooed. “You really deserved that win.”
“Effortless Christmas charm,” I replied with a wink. “Sometimes less is more.”
I just smiled and thanked them, my heart doing a little victory dance. Not because I’d won, but because I knew Sharon was probably inside her house, peeking through the blinds, stewing in her own embarrassment.
A cheerful woman smiling | Source: Midjourney
That night, as I watered my poinsettias, Sharon stepped out to check her mailbox. She glanced my way, and for a second, I thought she might wave or say something civil.
Instead, she turned on her heel and marched back inside, slamming the door behind her so hard I thought the Christmas wreaths might shake.
I chuckled, shaking my head. “Maybe next year, Sharon. Maybe next year!”
A furious woman standing at the doorway | Source: Midjourney
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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