The Chipmunks motion picture may not have been a boffo hit, but the Saturday morning cartoon remained a ratings winner. So Simon and I continued our yearly sojourns out to Los Angeles. Most of the episodes sort of run together in my head, but there was one that sticks out. That episode revolved around The Chipmunks finding their birth mother. To be honest, I really don't like revisiting that part of my life, even in cartoon form. And I especially didn't like that the plot had the mother - a regular chipmunk - just bring three youngsters from the forest into Dave's house. It suggests that The Chipmunks were nothing but forest-dwellers that Dave Seville "domesticated" somehow. Yeah, I know - it's a cartoon, and it's not really me. But I've always hated any implication that I'm simply a well-trained wild animal. Ross and Janice at least knew how to mollify me a bit. They asked June Foray to provide the voice of the mother. Hey, if I'm going to have a mother in the cartoon, it may as well be her!

With the cartoon still reigning supreme every weekend, NBC decided to branch out a bit, and make a TV special for primetime. Ross and Janice wrote a fake biography of the Chipmunks rock band, and of course invited Simon and me to provide the voices. This time, though, the scheduling didn't work for Simon, and he had to decline. So I decided to take the opportunity to decline, as well. "Stephen and Jonathan filled in," says Alvin, "By that point, Jonathan almost had Simon's voice down pat, and Stephen could do a convincing high-voice Theodore."

Simon and I did fly out to Los Angeles for a weekend to record two songs for the special. One of them was a semi-hip-hop holiday number called "Sleigh Ride" (an original, not the Leroy Anderson holiday favorite), and I completely agree with Alvin's take on it. "As embarrassing as it is to say, there's a surprising amount of backbone to that song. It may be the toughest song we ever did." And since Will Smith hosted the special, a lot of people think that's him throwing down a rhyme in the song. "They added the rap after we had already done our parts, so I don't know who that is. Pretty sure it's not The Fresh Prince, though."

The second song we recorded was yet another recording of "Witch Doctor". "There already existed several Chipmunk recordings of that song," Simon points out. "And rather than simply utilize one of those, NBC granted us permission to attempt something more in keeping with the theme of the program. We sang portions of the song in the style of other performers, past and present." In addition to singing together on the "Elton John" bit, each of us got to sing solo parts on the recording. I was given two singers to impersonate - Elvis Presley and Bob Dylan. I think I did an OK Elvis, but my Dylan may just be the goofiest imitation ever. Alvin's Michael Jackson sounds a bit hesitant, but his Jimi Hendrix was pretty good, and his Little Richard was fantastic.

But it was our other brother's solo turn that blew everybody away. Alvin recalls, "Simon only had one solo section to do: the second-to-last bit, as Bruce Springsteen. You and I watched when he recorded it. He sort of casually strolled as into the recording booth, and put on his headphones. The playback started, and he just stood there calmly until his part came up. Then...it was like he was transformed. His eyes were wide open, his teeth were bared, his fists clenched - it was incredible to watch. And he nailed it in one take."

Simon adds, "After thirty-two years of recording, I finally was granted the opportunity to sing lead on a Chipmunks song. I was not about to do so half-heartedly."

Alvin did a sort of rap bit at the end, and then we were done. Literally. That recording of "Witch Doctor" was the final song we ever recorded as a trio.

"I'm kinda proud of it, actually," says Alvin. "Yeah, it's kind of silly, but it's silly on our own terms. We got to mess around and have fun with the recording. It was as good a way to go out as any."

"The first song any of us recorded was 'Witch Doctor'," explains Simon. "And the last song we recorded together was 'Witch Doctor'. There is a symmetry there which appeals to me."

While we were out in Los Angeles, we also added our voices to a big-budget charity cartoon special - The Cartoon All-Stars to the Rescue. It was a "say no to drugs" message show, and it was sort of a big deal at the time - they even got then-First Family George and Barbara Bush to take part. The day we added our voices, I was placed in the sound booth next to Paul Fusco, who created and provided the voice of ALF. While the director was setting up, I thanked Paul for playing "Ragtime Cowboy Joe" on his show a couple of years back. Paul stared at me and said, "Wait - that was really you?!" My brothers and I harmonized a bit of the song for him, and he burst out laughing. He also got a laugh when I read my big line. In the cartoon, Theodore comes across a cigar box full of drug paraphernalia, and lets loose with this clueless "what's this stuff for?". I joking said, "Well, it HAS been fifteen years since my last joint. I probably wouldn't recognize that stuff anymore."

Months later, I watched the Chipmunks special at home, with just a microwave burrito and beer as company. And to be frank, it wasn't an easy thing for me to sit through. Will Smith, Ben Vereen, Kenny Loggins - all these famous people talking about these fictional cartoon Chipmunks. Kids might have liked it, but I couldn't help but feel it was a missed opportunity. It's probably just my ego talking, but why not do a real biography? They were showing clips of David Seville on the Ed Sullivan Show, so why not jump off from there? It seemed like the perfect opportunity to come clean about The Chipmunks: who we were, where we were now, everything.

"Publicly admitting our existence was a bell that could not be unstruck," says Simon. "And with the potential for additional profit to be made at some later date, they presumably had no interest in approaching that bell clapper."

After the show ended, I turned off the TV, stretched out on the couch, and thought things over for a bit. The Chipmunks revival had done awfully well for me over the past decade or so. Yeah, I had to give up being in a really good band. But I had made quite a bit of money - more than I thought I ever would. That said, every trip to California was feeling a bit more...work-like. It wasn't unenjoyable, really, but it was starting to get tough ramping my voice up to do all of the dialogue they needed me to do. Did I want to take part in the next season? I sort of half-decided that I did, but I thought I'd keep my options open.

But as it ended up, that decision was destined to be made by somebody else.

I was up in my reading room on a quiet night, reading an Isaac Asimov book and listening to my well-worn album of Holst's The Planets. (I was really slow in replacing my records, and took forever to make the switch over to CDs. That wasn't an audiophile thing - I was just lazy, really.) The phone rang, and thankfully, by this point, I had a cordless phone I would take up to the room with me.

"Hello?"

"Hello, brother," Alvin said.

"Brother! What's new?"

Alvin sighed. "Well, Ross and Janice had their pitch meeting with NBC today. They wrote some scripts where we do different types of TV shows - sitcoms, mysteries, that sort of thing."

I shrugged. "Sounds good."

"Not good enough, apparently."

"Really? NBC turned it down?"

"They didn't even get the whole pitch done. NBC said they're not renewing next season."

"...at all?"

"Nope. That's it. This current season's gonna be the last one."

I didn't know what to say, so I just said, "Oh." After a few seconds, I said, "I don't know how to feel."

I could hear Alvin smile through the phone. "Me neither. I mean, I know I'll miss seeing you every year. And I'll miss the paychecks."

"You're not in any trouble, are you?"

"Nah, Simon set things up pretty good. I got a lot saved up, and Safety Corps's still doing great."

"Well, that's good." I mulled it over a bit more. "So, what are Ross and Janice going to do now?"

"I don't know. The show was a much bigger grind for them than it ever was for us. I bet they're going to enjoy having a little time off."

"Yeah, they probably will."

"But that got me thinking. I think I'd like some time off, too."

"Tired of being the Safety Chipmunk?" I teased.

"Pfft - I hardly strap on the guitar anymore," Alvin said. "Stephen and Jonathan do most of the gigs. I'm usually just booking the shows, arranging the schedules, and shuffling through the feedback cards. But I could use a break from that, too."

"Yeah, I can imagine. What were you thinking of doing?"

"Vacation," Alvin said immediately, like he'd already given it a lot of thought. "Hawaii, Caribbean, doesn't matter. Maybe on a cruise ship. Just me, the warm sun, a fruity cocktail...and my two brothers."

I sat up straighter. "...really?"

"I don't know if you guys can swing it. Don't know about your schedules, or your finances. But I'd love to have you with me, brother."

The idea definitely appealed to me. The only vacations I had ever taken were trips to California for recording sessions. I called up Simon, and he admitted the idea appealed to him as well. So a few months later, we flew back out to California, met up with Alvin, and continued on to Hawaii.

I know there are some people who can find amazing out-of-the-way adventures wherever they vacation, and never do anything even remotely "touristy". Our vacation, on the other hand, could have been a travel brochure. Leis, luau, poi, volcano trip, surf lessons, postcards from souvenir shops, you name it.

"There was perhaps some prudence involved," admits Simon. "Rodents are all but unknown outside of mainland America, and we could not predict what reaction we might have engendered from the local residents. Remaining with tour groups lessened that uncertainty."

Alvin waves that explanation away. "Who cares what other people like? We decided to do all the tourist-y stuff, and we had the time of our lives."

I don't have many photos of me or my brothers. There are probably a few different reasons for that. For one thing, rodents are made to feel pretty unattractive all their lives. "Good-looking for a rodent" is almost the definition of a backhanded compliment. And when you grow up pudgy, and occasionally being called names like "fatso", you tend not to want to look at yourself very much. Even now, I tend to look into mirrors as infrequently as possible. So that probably has a lot to do with it, too.

But while we were enjoying a beach on Maui, I decided I wanted a photo of all three of us together. I had bought a disposable camera to take pictures of the beaches and flowers, just as souvenirs for myself. I flagged down a fellow tourist, and handed him the camera. My brothers and I started to pose next to each other, in a standard "say cheese" sort of way. But while getting into position, Alvin stepped on a little crab, and freaked out a little. I mocked him a bit, we all laughed it off, and then we got back together to pose correctly for the photo.

Back in New York, when I got the photos back from the developer, I immediately flipped ahead to that photo. I was curious to see if it came out. In that photo, Alvin was grinning broadly, as he often did, his arms crossed. Simon was standing up very straight between us, looking very uncomfortable. And there was me. I had tried sucking in my gut, and had a crooked smile trying to cross my face.

I frowned while looking at the picture. It really wasn't what I was hoping for at all.

But then I saw the photo right before it.

Apparently, that tourist took a picture while we were laughing about Alvin stepping on the crab. It's not a great photo. It's a snapshot taken with a cheap camera. And none of us are looking our best. I'm wearing my dark green shorts, and my naked furry gut is hanging out over it. I'm bent over a bit, pointing at Alvin, laughing. Alvin is wearing red shorts, and is holding up his paws like he's arguing, but he's clearly laughing, too. Simon is standing between us in his blue shorts, head slightly cocked, looking at Alvin with a slightly cynical smile. But somehow, far more than that other photo, it looked like us. Like three brothers who had been through a lot over the years, and were still enjoying the ride.

I still have the photo in a frame on my mantelpiece.