July has been a weird month. For me, anyway. I disdain The 4th Of July with all of its' random noise and confusion, merriment and tragedies. People blow shit up, somebody gets their eye poked out, drunks are happy and somebody's whole Family gets wiped out on the Highway. It seems to all take place within about 72 hours. I was going to go camping. I didn't. Instead, I went to the grocery and liquor stores, stocked up on provisions and just hid out at home. My neighborhood, which is usually rife with Homemade Explosions, wasn't so noisy this year. Around the 10th or so, I did some weird thing to my back and that kept me home. Which, from the standpoint of holiday social interactions that can be/usually are weird, is a "good thing." So long as there are things to cook, TV/Movies to watch and something to drink, I'm satisfied.
August is always better. For starters, my Birthday is in the first week of the month and people always send me cool shit. My Brother sent me an Uber Groovy "Travel Shaver." It recharges with a USB connection and only weighs about 2 ounces. Very cool. The only use it will ever see is during actual travelling, which should give it a happy, long life. My Mom will send me the usual $20-30 because she doesn't "get" how to shop for me and it's "easy" for her. My Friend, Sleeve Jobs, will send me something like a knife or gag gift. He knows I like both. Akbar/Jeff will totally forget about me and maybe call later to apologize. His brains ran out of his ears, years ago. Numerous websites and businesses will send me Birthday "credits" and American Spirit will send me a card and some flower seeds or a coupon for their cigarettes. Travel Shaver wins, hands down. Well done, Brutte.
I bought myself a cool T-Shirt this past month. A Jim Marshall "Cars, Guns, Cameras" shirt. On the front is a graphic of one of his iconic Leica M-4 cameras that he removed the paint covering the brass on the body from. It was kind of a signature. Jim just thought it "looked cool." It does. Jim was THE Rock and Roll Photographer. Period. 50+ Rolling Stone Magazine covers, NUMEROUS Iconic shots of Musicians (Jimi Hendrix setting his guitar on fire @ Monterrey Pop) and people like Bill Graham, TONS of Auto Racing photo's, great portraits and many, many, Album Covers. The Allman Brothers Live At The Fillmore East is one of Jim's best, in my mind. I have an interesting anecdote about Jim, of course.
My Friend, Dearly Departed, Michael Hanley, caught wind of an upcoming Starship show near Lahaina, Maui, while he, his Brother "Peter-Peter" and I were all living together on that shitty little Island. Michael had been the Drums, Keyboards and Monitors Techie for Jefferson Airplane, Jefferson Starship, Starship and probably Hot Tuna a few times. He worked for numerous other Bay Area Bands as well. Anyway...Michael calls up the J.A. Offices in San Francisco and obtains three All Access Passes for We Three Guys. We arrive early, bullshit with various members of the band and start raiding the Heineken Coolers. At some point, Michael notices that Jim Marshall, the Jeffersons' Staff Photog-At-Large, is "getting into it" with a HUGE Samoan Security Guy and grabs me and says: "Let's go rescue Jim." We are both doing our very best Sean Connery "Perhaps I may be of some assistance" schtick and we get Jim Backstage and away from the Security Dude but, Jim has already officially been "ejected from the show." We're just getting his gear packed up and finding the keys to the rental Crew Van at that point. We load Jim and his gear up and get The Hell Out Of Dodge, pointed toward Lahaina, where Jim's staying. Meanwhile, he's so pissed off that he can't remember where his hotel is. Luckily, I possess an intimate knowledge of Lahaina's back alleys and nooks and crannies, which is where Jim's Lanai Style Hotel is. We find it after about 45 minutes of cruising around, get him into his room, have a couple of Bushmills shots with him, get back into the van and haul butt back to the show, laughing our asses off the whole way.
The high point of the day/evening was meeting Papa John Creech and his Lovely Wife, who's name I can't remember now. These were the last set of shows John would ever play and his Wife died soon after the tour. That and hearing Jack Cassidy speak. (He has a peculiar voice.) Starship was using the Lahaina gig to tighten up for and relax before a full blown Asian Tour.
I ended up with Paul Kantner's S.F. 49ers ballcap after he left it by a hotel swimming pool in Ka'anapali. We tried to locate him but he'd booked the room using a pseudonym. No help there. You can't have it back Paul. It got "lost."
Papa John:
JM Shirt:
See Ya', Buddy,
-Doc
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