One tells a story of days gone by. A flash of your history, a snapshot of an instant. Be it a minute, an hour, a day, or a year, it matters none. Something jogs your brain cells where past history is stored. You smile, and you think you have something worth telling.
My story is about my 18 years in the music industry, from 1966 to 1984 . . . from starting as a part time roadie making just enough money to buy cigarettes and put gas into my car . . . to being able to hang out with musicians and tell lovely young ladies, “I’m with the band. Ya wanna meet one of ’em?” . . . to forming my own entertainment management company . . . until eventually leaving the business world of rock and roll.
Those years, especially my early years, brought a great deal of change to the music world and to all corners of society. It was the 1960s, the youth movement was stirring, and we all felt it. As young people, we felt freer than our parents ever had, so we took advantage of it. And the music played on. We fought for equality for all, we protested the Vietnam War, and we marched. The music got stronger, too—more political, more active in supporting change. No wonder the Grateful Dead came to sing, “What a long, strange trip it’s been.”
Lucky for me, I was there for all of it. In fact, I was often on the inside, looking out—but not from the stage. I worked behind the music scenes, playing my part to make it happen.
What I never did was ask for autographs. That was a very big NO if you were working with any bands or even simply hanging out with the musicians or artists. The other thing I didn’t do during those years—but probably should have—was keep a journal.
Still, since that time, in these past 20 years, what I learned working in the music industry has helped me further my career in my sales force development role. I’d also like to think that I’m still learning, still rockin’, still helping others. What the future brings, we shall see. Where the present generation goes remains to be seen. I hope it’s good, good for all, good for the world.
So where do I begin?
A few years ago, over shots of tequila, my friends Lee Boot and Rush Burkhardt urged me to put my memories, my experiences down on paper before I grew too old to even remember who I am. So I started a journal on December 26, 2006, in Cuernavaca, Mexico.
Here, in these pages, I relive my rock and roll journey, recalled as best I can. This is the way I saw it, and now I invite you to come along.