Mark Murphy: How Elton John helped me accept myself as a teenager

This is a column by Mark Murphy, a Savannah physician and author. He is a regular contributor to the Savannah Morning News.

As a child, I was nearsighted, pudgy and awkward - one of those goofy youngsters who inspired vague pity among the parents of my friends. With my horn-rimmed glasses and an unkempt mop of brown hair, I dressed routinely in blue jeans, oversized football jerseys and beat-up Wallabees.

My bedroom was filled with collections of rocks, seashells, fossils and coins; a fish-filled aquarium bubbled away in one corner. Dozens of model aircraft were suspended by monofilament line from my ceiling, soaring in static flight. My built-in bookshelves were stocked with hundreds of books, covering everything from the science fiction and fantasy of Arthur C. Clarke, Asimov and J.R.R. Tolkien to the biographies of famous people.

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Never a natural athlete, I gave up baseball for piano lessons in the fourth grade after I was hit by a pitch one day while trying to bunt. Aware that I was not one of the “cool kids,” I simply didn’t care. I rode my battered Schwinn ten-speed everywhere, journeying to Daffin Park, the Hobby Shop in Medical Arts, the Science Museum on Paulsen and Walden’s bookstore in Oglethorpe Mall. I generally minded my own business, enjoying a life of blissful ignorance.

Puberty, however, changed everything.

Seemingly overnight, a witches’ brew of hormones had transformed all my friends. The boys grew larger and more muscular; the girls became beautiful young women. My own transformation was simultaneously painful and cruel. The various idiosyncrasies which might have been endearing in a nerdy, unathletic prepubescent child suddenly became glaring social liabilities. I was a half-blind dork who once suffered the ignominy of striking out in kickball. A horrific bumper crop of acne and my inherent lack of fashion sense didn’t help my looks. I was painfully shy around girls, unable to come up with even a semblance of casual conversation.

But Elton John helped save me.

Finding Elton John

I became an Elton John fan when I was ten, with the release of the “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road” album. In many ways, he reminded me of myself - bespectacled, not particularly good-looking, Elton played the piano, dressed in crazy outfits and somehow made it all work.

Saving my allowance money, I mowed lawns, sold seeds and ultimately earned enough money to buy a small stereo system when I was 12. That, in turn, opened the door to buying records. The first album I ever purchased, for the small fortune of $6.99, was Elton John’s “Caribou,” which came out in June 1974. Elton wore an outrageous velour tiger-print shirt, black pants and jewel-studded glasses on the album’s cover. Looking at that picture, I realized that I didn’t have to be just like everybody else to be OK. I could be myself, whoever that ultimately was.

I was always a mediocre pianist, despite seven years of instruction from Mrs. Jordan, my very patient piano teacher, but my lessons made me better able to appreciate keyboard talent in others - and Elton John was simply the best popular pianist I’d ever heard.

I gave up piano to play football in the tenth grade. By then, I’d become far more comfortable in my own skin. I was already dating Daphne Dillon, the beautiful young woman who I would later marry. On my 20th birthday, while we were students at the University of Georgia, Daphne and I saw Elton John perform live for the very first time, at the old Omni in Atlanta. It was a phenomenal show - but then, I’d expect nothing less from Elton, a phenomenal showman.

Seeing Elton John one last time

It’s now been 40 years since that show. I’ve been to see Sir Elton 16 times since then, in seven different cities. At 75 now, he’s on his “Farewell, Yellow Brick Road” tour, with plans to retire afterward so that he can spend some well-deserved time with his family.

I’d been to a performance of the “Goodbye” show in Atlanta, prior to the pandemic - but when EJ scheduled a post-pandemic date within striking distance in Jacksonville, Daphne and I simply had to go see him one last time.

The show was amazing. Elton was as spectacular as always. His voice was strong, his piano artistry unsurpassed and his affection for the sold-out crowd of 15,000 was genuine and heartfelt.

So, belatedly, as I write this in the hotel lobby in the wee hours of the morning after the show, here’s a well-deserved shout out to Sir Elton Hercules John, CH CBE, who helped transform my life: Thank you. You once made a weird little kid in Savannah, Georgia feel as though he was going to be all right after all.

And, as it turns out, he was.

This article originally appeared on Savannah Morning News: Elton John helped Savannah physician find self-acceptance as a nerdy teenager