Friday, March 02, 2007
I Was Almost Famous
A few days ago, I made reference to a chance encounter I had with a celebrity when I was 14 years old. OK, already, here's the story. Stop asking.
Wayners was living in SoCal back in 1970, after finishing a stint in the Navy. When my high school in Roswell got out that Spring, he sent me a plane ticket to come spend some time with him. Or Mom bought it, hell I don't know. All I know is my young ass was on an airplane for its very first ride, and I was stoked, just short of my 15th birthday.
In those days (and I doubt it's changed much in 37 years), you could fly nowhere from Roswell without flying first to Albuquerque, so we landed there for a brief layover. I stayed on the plane, absolutely convinced they'd leave my country ass behind if I got off. Of course, I didn't know I was bumpkin. I thought I was like, the coolest almost-15-year-old in Roswell. That's roughly equivalent to being the smartest kid on the short bus.
A group of hippie-looking dudes got on the plane together, and I knew immediately they had to be a rock band. I searched their faces as they selected their seats and settled in....Let's see here....Three Dog Night? Creedence? Cream? Grass Roots? NO! I've GOT it! Look at that tall black dude - this is Sly and the Family Stone!
Unfortunately for me, one of the white guys who wasn't Sly took the seat next to mine. Shit! Probably a roadie. Just my luck. The guy leaned his head over and promptly fell asleep without a word.
About a half-hour out of LA, the guy woke up, looked at me, nodded his head and smiled. Now, you know me, I'm the shy type. Not much for talking. But I seized the moment and chatted him up a bit.
Hey, I noticed you got on with some other guys. Are you a band or something?
He smiled, "Yeah, we're the Steve Miller Band. I'm Steve Miller." He extended his hand, and I shook it, all the while thinking:
Dammit. A bunch of loser garage-banders no one ever heard of.
Gimme a break. It WAS only 1970, after all, and nobody had heard of them.
We talked a bit more. They had just done a show in Albuquerque and were enroute to Honolulu for another. They were worn out from the road, looking forward to a break, the usual idle chit chat. The plane landed, we parted company, and that was that.
A few weeks later, I was browsing a record store. Hell, I could have pitched a tent and lived in a record store in those days. I had music. Who needed food?
I asked the clerk if he'd ever heard of The Steve Miller Band. He went to a rack and produced an album called Number 5, put it on, and played it.
Still never heard of 'em.
The day I got back home, I was in my room listening to the radio when a song I really liked came on.
Hey, ho, one thing I know
Every mother's child really lets himself go
As I said, I'd heard it before, but just who the Hell was that? The song ended, and the DJ said "That was the Steve Miller Band with In The Country."
And the rest, as they say, is history. They went on to become one of the most popular rock bands of the 70's. If I knew when I was sitting next to him on the plane what I know now, I'd have followed them to Honolulu. I could have been the William Miller to his Russell Hammond. Maybe I'd be Cameron Crowe today.
It's all about timing......
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Wayners was living in SoCal back in 1970, after finishing a stint in the Navy. When my high school in Roswell got out that Spring, he sent me a plane ticket to come spend some time with him. Or Mom bought it, hell I don't know. All I know is my young ass was on an airplane for its very first ride, and I was stoked, just short of my 15th birthday.
In those days (and I doubt it's changed much in 37 years), you could fly nowhere from Roswell without flying first to Albuquerque, so we landed there for a brief layover. I stayed on the plane, absolutely convinced they'd leave my country ass behind if I got off. Of course, I didn't know I was bumpkin. I thought I was like, the coolest almost-15-year-old in Roswell. That's roughly equivalent to being the smartest kid on the short bus.
A group of hippie-looking dudes got on the plane together, and I knew immediately they had to be a rock band. I searched their faces as they selected their seats and settled in....Let's see here....Three Dog Night? Creedence? Cream? Grass Roots? NO! I've GOT it! Look at that tall black dude - this is Sly and the Family Stone!
Unfortunately for me, one of the white guys who wasn't Sly took the seat next to mine. Shit! Probably a roadie. Just my luck. The guy leaned his head over and promptly fell asleep without a word.
About a half-hour out of LA, the guy woke up, looked at me, nodded his head and smiled. Now, you know me, I'm the shy type. Not much for talking. But I seized the moment and chatted him up a bit.
Hey, I noticed you got on with some other guys. Are you a band or something?
He smiled, "Yeah, we're the Steve Miller Band. I'm Steve Miller." He extended his hand, and I shook it, all the while thinking:
Dammit. A bunch of loser garage-banders no one ever heard of.
Gimme a break. It WAS only 1970, after all, and nobody had heard of them.
We talked a bit more. They had just done a show in Albuquerque and were enroute to Honolulu for another. They were worn out from the road, looking forward to a break, the usual idle chit chat. The plane landed, we parted company, and that was that.
A few weeks later, I was browsing a record store. Hell, I could have pitched a tent and lived in a record store in those days. I had music. Who needed food?
I asked the clerk if he'd ever heard of The Steve Miller Band. He went to a rack and produced an album called Number 5, put it on, and played it.
Still never heard of 'em.
The day I got back home, I was in my room listening to the radio when a song I really liked came on.
Hey, ho, one thing I know
Every mother's child really lets himself go
As I said, I'd heard it before, but just who the Hell was that? The song ended, and the DJ said "That was the Steve Miller Band with In The Country."
And the rest, as they say, is history. They went on to become one of the most popular rock bands of the 70's. If I knew when I was sitting next to him on the plane what I know now, I'd have followed them to Honolulu. I could have been the William Miller to his Russell Hammond. Maybe I'd be Cameron Crowe today.
It's all about timing......
