Run-ins with the stars!

[struma6]

After a great story in the thumbpick thread, and at the behest of Mr 45, Here's a thread to tell stories of your meetings/run-ins with people of the known variety! I know lots of you have them!

 

I'll start with 2 (of COURSE I have stories, why else would I start this thread???)

 

Back in the late 70's I lived in a remote-ish mountain town in Colorado, a few miles from a mountain town that was 18 miles up the canyon from Boulder. Outside of the town was a recording studio, Caribou Ranch, that the band Chicago had started some years before. I was playing a solo night in the local blood and beer watering hole, all on my lonesome and fairly lubricated. As I'm playing I looked up and, not 5 feet from me stood Al Dimeola, who was at Caribou for one reason or another. He was staring at me like I was the dog-pooh on his shoe, shook his head and left the bar. I actually laughed. I have been dissed by one of the best, I take pride in that!! He's 1,000 times a better guitar player than I but I would guess I'm 1,000 times less egocentric and rude. So I have THAT going for me!!

 

 

 

Story #2:

 

I was in a little rough-shod music store in Boulder just playing the guitars hanging around. I heard a familiar voice. I stood up and there was Taj Mahal looking at a Guild. I went over and said hello and he sat down with the Guild and said "let's play!". I did. I was a wreck and stumbled over everything. He said, hey, nice feel! and shook my hand and left. Taj= good guy!! D00d can play, too.

 

 

OK, that's my weak entry, let's hear yours, eh?

[L5Larry]

I would have to say the number one on my list would be from March of '02. I was working in New York for eight days, and my wife flew in for the weekend so I would have a playmate. As she was going through the tourist literature in the hotel room she found a listing for the Monday night Les Paul Iridium shows. She had to leave Sunday night, but made me PROMISE to go see Les (even if by myself).

 

I get to the Iridium, pay my cover, stake out a table, order a drink, and then I went outside to grab a smoke. It's early March, cold as hell, and I'm huddled in a doorway with another smoking guy. We got talking about me being from out of town and my wife had to go back home, and Les, and guitar playing, etc... and it turns out I'm standing there smoking with Lou Pallo, Les' rhythm guitar player. He says "Let's finish our smokes and I'll take you backstage to meet Les".

 

So I spent the rest of the time before the show, and another half hour or so after the show hanging out with Les Paul. I was even asked to sit-in, but I choked and said "no thanks" (boy am I stupid).

 

That's the short version. As you might suspect, spending an evening hanging out with Les Paul, Lou Pallo, Bucky Pizzarelli and Nicki Parrot can almost be a novel in itself.

 

I will have to say that Les was one of the funniest guys (and dirtiest old men) I've ever met.

[sjl200]

2 times I remember .....Standing at a urinal at the DFW airport mid 70's I think ...a tall man dressed in black took the one to my left...yes that man in black Johnny Cash, at the wash sink I said hello and that I loved his work he noded d and said thanks...we didn't shake hands . I met Chuck Barry at the STL airport 1998 as he was standing upstairs curbside alone no one around waiting for his ride after he had just landed from Paris, shook his hand and thanked him for all the great times his music had brought to me. Had a little chat about flying..

[greatwhite_10]

I had to privilege to know Jim Croce's guitar player, Maury Muehleisin. We went to the same college in New Jersey and spent hours (yes, avoiding or "cutting" classes regularly) to play guitar. I was a real beginner, but played my Gibson 12 string with passion. I was happy to play the rhythm for his leads. Very sad day in 1973 when he was lost in the crash along with Croce. I remember him telling me that he was failing the music program because he refused to play the piano with his pinky fingers. Funny, he used them quite well on the guitar. "...we thought those days would never end..."

[E-minor7]

I once met John Cales wife in New York City, will that do. . . . Guess not, so here's the opportunity to rerun my Neil Young encounter :

 

Back in 1976 Young and Crazy Horse were in town for the first time. Neil had been here before with CSN&Y, but this was the Zuma tour and the lads were in terrific shape. A very juvenile version of me plus10 classmates attended the half acoustic/half electric show with expectations high as a sugar mountain. Of course the gig had blown out of our minds, but never the less me and one of the guys decided to get behind the concert-hall block to see our stars leave the building. Yep, after a while they came out one by one by one. Talbot*, Molina, Sampedro, , , , and Young in some furry Afghan coat. I steered towards him as a magnet, thanked for the music and among other things asked about a CSN&Y reunion (the only thing I recall). "It's up to the others," he said and slipped through the door of the waiting limousine. The rest of the band was still on pavement, probably in small conversations, giving autographs and answers - there were only around 10 or 12 people at the scene. My eyes followed Neil inside the cabin where he had placed himself on the back seat. We spoke a bit further, when suddenly in a split-second, he changed his mind and in a weird acrobatic move threw himself over the front seat only to land in the strangest position half on the floor next to the drivers place (certainly no trace of the recent spine-problems here). He got himself together as a the relaxed Crazy Horse entered the enormous car. It had the windows down and no one was in a hurry (it was after all the 70'ties) so we chatted on through the open gabs. A couple of minutes later they took off, leaving E-minor7 and good friend Lars on the sidewalk absolutely stunned. It had been the most perfect ending of the most perfect concert and we were like covered with wonder-dust, when suddenly Lars felt the upper wrangler-jacket chest pocket empty, his purse gone. Confused and troubled 'bout dealing with a nail of bad luck in midst of such shimmering situation, we stayed where we were, not drunk nor stoned - just intoxicated by the whole thing. Then after a couple of minutes - believe it or not - right before our eyes, the dark limo came around the opposite corner some 25 meters away. Slowly drove closer as an arm showed from the still open window. Someone handed the purse, the driver gave gas and the party was gone.

 

 

 

Ladies and gentlemen ~ This was my holy moment as a rock-lovin youngster tale, and I'll never forget it. Guess the purse had dropped from the pocket when L. leaned his torso inside the cabin, can't imagine anything else. But sometimes I picture of the conversation inside the car. There must have been a little discussion whether to drive back or not - what to do with this little lump of leather. Though on their way to some tour fest-thing** (they stayed at the biggest hotel in town, which I know as the hotel-sticker is seen on the front of the Decade-album, released a few years later), in a heavenly state of mind, these pirates chose to return. Ouh YES they did !

 

Besides grand piano and harps, I remember Young playing his tobaccoburst J-200, the D-28, the D-45, the black Les Paul and the White Falcon that night - maybe even a banjo.

 

** This is taken just after the story above -

 

 

 

*wearing an extraordinary ordinary and to be frank for the times totally uncool blue nylon-coat - (love it)

[ParlourMan]

In my younger days I was a huge Stone Roses fan (Still am) anyway when they were playing my home town I bumped into John Squire in a fairly exclusive/expensive shopping gallery, he was extremely cool, I wasn't, he was the reason I took up the guitar, so regardless of my cool clothes and my indie haircut I was a bit wow'd... nice fella though.

 

Another band I was majorly into was the Charlatans, I knew of their manager through a Scooter network so scored some backstage passes and ended up on the tour bus smoking funky cigarettes with them (I was barely 20 and still stupid)... A couple of years on I saw a band called 'Smaller' not that great but their main claim to fame was that the singer was 'Digsy', the same Digsy as named in Digsy's Diner on the first Oasis album, the guy was a tool, even though he was a nothing, after a lot of blah blah and trying to show off to a few girls I piped in and asked him what it was like to be Noel Gallaghers *****? I got ejected from the Hilton hotel for it, it was epic, as I was the guitarist in a local band who were starting to get some press attention it made the newspaper, I couldn't have been more proud, rock'n'roll status +10 ;) Our manager worked for the main promotions agency in Scotland at the time, so we saw Oasis when they first released Superonic, met them, they were nice, all was cool till the newspapers arrived when suddenly Noel & Liam had a fight, couldn't have been more staged, but certainly worked for them...

 

After that my band did some gigs in our hometown for a Childrens hospice appeal, by then we knew a few guys from Primal Scream, Teenage Fanclub, The BMX Bandits etc.. so we got them involved and turned it into a bit of a celebrity thing thus raising more cash, getting us in the paper and spot on TV, we managed to raise 10K and got a lot of great (selfish) press from it too, an all round win! Biggest gig we did was support Bowie, a last minute deal, the support band who played before the support band, so played to a 3/4 empty hall (haha) anyway told one set of press that he was really ignorant and snubbed us, told the other he came chatted with us, advised us and let us use his personal chef, they ran the stories on the same day ;)

 

One of the blokes in my band died due to some misadventure and that was the end of our road, but since then I worked for a Music magazine for a while meeting The Streets, Franz Ferdinand, Sigur Ros, Moby, Arctic Monkeys, Primal Scream (what a riot that was as they knew me) and a whole list of others.

 

The lasting impression is that most of these people were cool, not too showy, some of them have their problems (and their crutches) but by and large it was only a handful of negative experiences, Dinosaur Jr being the worst, I won't write my opinion of that Jay Mascis guy here, it's not very nice.

[Eyecon]

I was at a wedding reception here in Jacksonville, FL. I snuggled up to the bar to get a beer and there was a guy standing next to me. I introduced myself and he and discovered that he and I share the same name "Scott".

 

I asked " What do you?"

He said " I'm a drummer in band"

Me: Cool... where do you play.. local bars at the beach?

Him: No we play everywhere

Me: No kidding...what's the name of your band?

Him: CREED.

 

He was Scott Phillips the drummer. Very cool guy.

[j45nick]

I had the accidental good fortune to spend most of 1970 and '71 working as a sound engineer for a not particularly successful folk rock band based in NYC. We toured all over the eastern half of the US on the college circuit, and cut a couple of singles for Mercury records, but none of them went anywhere outside the Midwest. I got the chance to rub elbows with a lot of good musicians during that time, some of which I've recounted here before.

 

But the encounter I will always remember happened a few years before, in the late fall of 1967. I was a junior in college, and spent the very small allowance I had on music in one form or another, primarily going to concerts.

 

In November I was broke, and Judy Collins was doing a concert at Pembroke Hall (part of Brown University) in Providence. My room mate at that time was actually from a well-off family (although he dressed like a bum, as we all did to some extent), and had a beautiful D-18 that I envied. I already had my beat-up old J-45. In any case he could afford to go to the concert, but I couldn't, but he was good enough (or embarrassed enough) not to buy a ticket for himself.

 

Pembroke hall had tall windows on the side, reaching almost to ground level. We took up a position outside the window closest to the stage so we could see in. Didn't know if we would be able to hear or not, but it didn't really matter. I was pretty infatuated with Judy Blue Eyes at that time in a way that only an aspiring 20-year-old folk singer could be with a successful, beautiful and talented 28-year-old Judy Collins.

 

So we stood in the cold and growing darkness, peering through the window. The stage door was literally just next to us, maybe 15 feet away. The curtain was still closed, but it was almost time to start. Suddenly, the stage door opened, and a long-haired guy in your basic folkie uniform (jeans and a work shirt) poked his head out and said: "Miss Collins wants to know if you're coming to the concert, or just going to stare through the window." I explained that we didn't have money for tickets, and he motioned us through the door.

 

He pointed to a couple of folding chairs off to the side just behind the curtain, and said "sit there, and keep your mouth shut" or words to that effect. I did as told.

 

For the next 2 1/2 hours, I sat maybe 15 or 20 feet from her, listening to that angelic voice. I didn't move, I didn't clap, I just sat...and stared...and listened.

 

This was just after "Wildflowers" had been released, and if you want to know what she looked like that night, you just have to look at the cover picture on that album. She had that mysterious, angelic Mona Lisa smile, those huge pale blue eyes, that long mane of chestnut hair. She was wearing a floor-length velvet dress--I still can't remember if it was emerald green or burgundy, although I've re-played that in my mind a thousand times in the 44 years since that magical evening. As I recall, she was playing a D-28.

 

During the break I didn't move, even though she chatted with her musicians just a few feet from me. I wanted to be invisible, I wanted that moment to last forever.

 

I can't even remember all the songs she sang that night, but I do remember "In My life", "Suzanne", and "Both Sides Now". This was just about the time that "Both Sides Now" was working up the charts, and I'm sure JC's cover of that song helped publicize Joni Mitchell, who was still about six months away from releasing her first album. (As an aside, a lot of people look down their noses at JC, since most of her best-known performances are covers rather than originals. But those covers helped bring other wonderful talents to the attention of the public, just as The Byrds' covers of Dylan songs helped broaden his appeal. Hard to believe that now, isn't it?)

 

In any case, when the concert was over, I dared to say "thank you" to her, and my roommate and I walked home in the dark in silence. We never talked that much about it. He was a snide and cynical young man with a big chip on his shoulder, but I suspect that evening affected him as much as it did me. He was a good guitarist and a mediocre singer, and he was constantly doing open mics at coffee houses. Never saw him after graduation, and I found out he died this year through a mention in a college alumni magazine.

 

There have been many, many opportunities to see her in concert since then, but I can never bring myself to go. I don't want anything to alter the memory of that night.

 

I spend a lot of time these days sitting in airplanes on long business trips. My routine is simple. I settle into my seat, dig out my headphones, and crank up the ipod. Almost invariably, the playlist starts out with Judy Collins doing Ian Tyson's "Someday Soon". I just lean back, close my eyes, and drift back in time.

[greatwhite_10]

Most excellent story there J45Nick. And who could ever forget her rendition of "Send in the Clowns." Very jealous over here in AZ that you were that close to this lady with an angel's voice.

[AnneS]

......

There have been many, many opportunities to see her in concert since then, but I can never bring myself to go. I don't want anything to alter the memory of that night.

 

I spend a lot of time these days sitting in airplanes on long business trips. My routine is simple. I settle into my seat, dig out my headphones, and crank up the ipod. Almost invariably, the playlist starts out with Judy Collins doing Ian Tyson't "Someday Soon". I just lean back, close my eyes, and drift back in time.

 

Best. Story. Ever.

 

Brings tears to my eyes, and I thank you for sharing. Sometimes, heaven opens...

[dirkronk]

This won't bring tears...dollar signs, maybe. The first part deals with celebrity endorsements and guitars. (Frequenters of the Acoustic Guitar Forum can safely skip this post...I'm doing a cut&paste of a story first mentioned over there, with a couple of additions.)

 

I've been in advertising 40+ years, first as an art director & illustrator, and since c.1978 almost exclusively as an associate creative director, copywriter (for all media) and agency producer (of radio, TV, etc.). For most of the past decade, I've spent part of each year prepping for a once-a-year one-day TV shoot with George Strait, since he's spokesman for one of our clients, a Chevy dealer. In fact, I'm presenting scripts this afternoon for this year's shoot date next month.

 

We have certain "givens" to work with, as dictated by his agents and George's endorsement obligations. Not quite as bad as decals on Nascar vehicles and patches on drivers, but a similar principle. Luckily, he always arrives in one of his own tour buses, and brings much of his own wardrobe. He always wears Wrangler jeans (never a problem), he wears heavily-starched Wrangler shirts (gotta watch the stripes...they cause moire patterns on camera), used to wear particular boots/hat (he brought 'em, so again no problem, except when shooting calls for particular hat color). But guitars? That's another story. For a number of years, if we wanted him posing with a guitar, WE had to track down high-dollar models of Guild acoustics. Usually, we'd get them on loan from dealers here in Texas. (Did they later sell faster because George had been photographed with 'em? Who knows.) About four, maybe five years ago, the Guild requirement stopped. Now, we ask that he bring his own guitar, just whatever he happens to bring from home or has for noodling around on his tour bus. Last year or so, they've been Taylors.

 

Why the sudden cessation of the Guild-only requirement? Never found out precisely why, whether it was all George's "druthers" or a bad re-up deal from the brand or what. Some folks suspect the Fender (?) takeover may have had something to do with it. And/or possibly the production move to Asia by some of Guild's models. Might have been a combination...or something different altogether. May never know. George is a pretty astute business guy, but also admirably loyal if there's a personal connection or obligation.

 

Every production is different...sometimes, especially when there's radio or other audio-only production involved, I direct and actually spend a good bit of time with him one-on-one. Other times it's just a handshake and a few words at the start and end of the day, with a film director doing most of the interaction between takes. Anyway, if I get a chance, I'm going to see if I can find out what he likes these days, guitar-wise. If there are any Strait fans here, maybe you already know what he's appearing in concert with. I don't. I like the guy and I like some of the songs he does, but I'm not a C&W fan generally, so I don't follow the concert scene.

 

One story from our first year with George. We're filming at a very remote and very old working ranch, with limited electricity. We have radio reads to get George to do, and the guys doing audio throw together a makeshift sound studio in a bunkhouse: blankets draped from the ceiling, a rig for a boom mike, and so on. The art director on the account, Mary, and I are sitting on a bunk, trying to review scripts and stay out of the way of the audio crew, most of whom are new to us. I'm on one end, Mary's in the middle, and this guy in a gimme cap, glasses and t-shirt walks in and sits beside Mary. We both figure he's crew and just taking a load off, so we keep looking at scripts. Suddenly I sense Mary going all tense. I look up and realize the gimme-cap guy is George Strait...and Mary's freakin' to be sitting right up next to him..."thigh to thigh" so to speak. This was the first time I realized that George's formal personna is very carefully guarded: when he's on stage, in front of cameras or making an "appearance" he's got cowboy hat on, no glasses...even sunglasses...and the rest of the regalia is just so. Off camera, he goes casual fast, and the accessory change essentially transforms/camouflages him. Also, like the rest of us mortals of a certain age, he needs reading glasses to see the small print on these scripts. In fact, he's borrowed MY readers at subsequent sessions several times now; I make it a point to have an extra pair with me on those days. Oh...and Mary? She's an old hand on these shoots now, but she's also never stopped talking about that particular first encounter. "On the same bunk with George Strait!"

 

Dirk

[JOESTONE]

One day when I was taking a train from NJ to Philadelphia with my friends to visit some other friends, I walked through the train cars, one after the other, through the crowded aisles trying to find the concession car where we could get some food and drinks. I entered a car that was almost empty and I felt strange that all the other cars were crowded. My eyes caught and locked on to Little Richard wearing his makeup from the Tonight Show. I had to walk right past him to get through the car. I never left his stare at me either as if he was saying, “yeah, it’s me.

[larryp58]

I work at the local community college, so I have access to backstage performances at all the shows at the performing arts auditorium on campus. It has afforded me some very memorable moments. Ranking from top to bottom would be:

1. Getting to have a personal jam session for about 45 minutes with Doc Watson. (I still can't believe that one happened!)

2. Picking with Jeff Hanna and the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band

3. Having Roy Clark show me his personal guitar collection and letting me play them for HIM!

4. Hanging backstage with Rhonda Vincent, Suzy Boggus, Billy Dean and John Berry

5. Picking with Mike Cross

6. Picking a song with Kenny Rogers

 

That's about it for me!

[j45nick]

 

 

That's about it for me!

 

I'd say that's a pretty good group of recollections!

[j45nick]

Best. Story. Ever.

 

Brings tears to my eyes, and I thank you for sharing. Sometimes, heaven opens...

 

Anne, now you know why I'm a sucker for girls with guitars or pianos. Always have been, always will be. One girl + one instrument= my idea of heaven.

[BluesKing777]

Here is the opposite type of story.

 

When we were kids, my father took my brother and I to watch the Beatles arrive at the local airport. The biggest crowd in history and all that Beatlemania stuff. My father wasn't into it and actually never took us anywhere except somewhere to do with boating, so these were exceptional times! I am not sure if I had one or really, really, REALLY wanted one, but a lot of the kids had those plastic Beatle wigs! Ha!

We couldn't get anywhere near anything - my brother and I don't think Dad tried hard enough - and we were miles from the action. We waited and waited and waited some more amongst all the hoo-ha and hysterics. A plane came in and screaming began to go out of control and the Beatles apparently got in a car somewhere unseen and were driven off some unused emergency road and out some hidden side entrance! Gone!

 

 

[E-minor7]

Here is the opposite type of story.

 

When we were kids, my father took my brother and I to watch the Beatles arrive at the local airport. The biggest crowd in history and all that Beatlemania stuff. My father wasn't into it and actually never took us anywhere except somewhere to do with boating, so these were exceptional times! I am not sure if I had one or really, really, REALLY wanted one, but a lot of the kids had those plastic Beatle wigs! Ha!

We couldn't get anywhere near anything - my brother and I don't think Dad tried hard enough - and we were miles from the action. We waited and waited and waited some more amongst all the hoo-ha and hysterics. A plane came in and screaming began to go out of control and the Beatles apparently got in a car somewhere unseen and were driven off some unused emergency road and out some hidden side entrance! Gone!

 

My father seldom took initiative to excursions, my mom did. But under the first Jacques Cousteau wave, he was turned on and really wanted to do some undersea adventure himself. It made him splash a bit round on our holidays.

When a divers jamboree was held at a swimming club by the sea one Sunday, he called the troops together. The family went off, found the place and took seat. What happened was an underwater swim contest, so all we saw were florescent orange balls with numbers floating back and forth in the water-court surface the whole afternoon. We never forgot and joked about it now and again up til recent times. Sadly he past early this year. May the mermaids and dolphins be with him.

 

 

When your father made his one move, it was to see The Beatles. Fantastic !

No doubt in my mind – You were there.

[zombywoof]

In the mid-1960s I met Ed Sanders of the Fugs. I was in my first band which included his nephew. He hung with us and listened to our practice. In 1967 during the Who's first U.S. tour I sat next to Keith Moon at a snack bar - he was eating ahot dog (I still have a napkin he signed for me complete with mustard stain somwehere). Another time I got to hang around on the stage with Jefferson Airplane. I met Jim McGuinn in an airport. I also met a whole bunch of folks when I worked for Lee Hays (bass singer with the Weavers. I ran into David Bromberg over at Jay Ungar's house. And Mick Taylor's bass player once puked on my foot after a show in St. Louis.

[BluesKing777]

Here is the opposite type of story.

 

When we were kids, my father took my brother and I to watch the Beatles arrive at the local airport. The biggest crowd in history and all that Beatlemania stuff. My father wasn't into it and actually never took us anywhere except somewhere to do with boating, so these were exceptional times! I am not sure if I had one or really, really, REALLY wanted one, but a lot of the kids had those plastic Beatle wigs! Ha!

We couldn't get anywhere near anything - my brother and I don't think Dad tried hard enough - and we were miles from the action. We waited and waited and waited some more amongst all the hoo-ha and hysterics. A plane came in and screaming began to go out of control and the Beatles apparently got in a car somewhere unseen and were driven off some unused emergency road and out some hidden side entrance! Gone!

 

 

And in case you think I jest about the plastic Beatles wigs:

Wig. Beatle wigs were the talk of the town in 1964 after The Beatles arrived in America!!!. In the USA, the Lowell Toy Co manufactured Beatle Wigs with lifelike hair. Everyone, both old and young could be seen wearing one! The store display poster for the wigs is hard to find. In the UK Beatle wigs were mfg by Bell Toy Company and were a molded plastic-type wig, see picture below. The Bell Toy wig also came in a plastic baggy with a cardboard header stapled to the top.

 

[AnneS]

Anne, now you know why I'm a sucker for girls with guitars or pianos. Always have been, always will be. One girl + one instrument= my idea of heaven.

 

 

and

 

[E-minor7]

As a beginner Ringo was my favorite. He made me feel at ease, I was mesmerized by his ring in Help!, followed his wedding and even got this kit.

My father – still young enough to be in shape from model-airplanes – glued and painted it. He also came home with a 7-inch She LovesYou.

I liked the B-side I'll Get You better.

6 years old an up'n'rockin'-

[TommyK]

Back about 5 years ago My wife and I took Amtrak from Chicargo to Temple, Texas to see our daughter, SIL and grandsons. At Normal, IL, this feller gets on in full cowboy regalia and a Martin Guitar. He had a private berth in the upper part of the sleeping car. We were on the lower floor. He got off in Dallas, Tx. On our return trip the cowboy got on again in Dallas. This time he had a berth right across the hall from us. He heard me playing my CDs, mostly Country and Bluegrass, okay exclusively Country and Bluegrass. He smiled in approval. When he got on he first brought on his guitar, then made sure it was secure in the top bunk. Then he went back outside for the rest of his luggage.

 

Being a guit tar picker I struck up a conversation with him. We talked for about an hour about music and guitars.... right there in the vestibule of the sleeper car, betwixed the fire extinguisher and the toilets. Who was it? Michael Martin Murphey.

[zombywoof]

Lawdy, never bought me one of those Beatles wigs - I was already wearing my hair a bit longer inspired by..

 

 

[dirkronk]

I want Larryp58's memories. Actually getting to pick along with Doc Watson? For 45 minutes? Aaaaaaaghh! However, his experience reminded me that my first year in college (1968-9) I spent at Baylor University in Waco, and worked as a staff artist for the Student Union Art Department. One area of our responsibilities was creating stage decorations for various events and providing manpower for working the lights, curtains, etc., backstage whenever there was a visiting artist or musician. However, I NEVER got to play guitar or even really hang around with any of the notables. I did work the curtains for Ferrante & Teicher...those guys were CRAZY backstage, I guess it was their way of hyping up their own energy before sitting down at their pianos for their first number...but they rushed around shaking hands with everyone in sight, including each other (and me), and babbling "How are ya? Nice to see ya!" like something out of a Marx Brothers movie. Then they went out and played one of the most astounding concerts I'd ever heard. Didn't like their kind of music normally, but I wound up impressed.

 

Later that year, I had the chance to crew lights for Peter, Paul and Mary, but I was such a fan that I wanted to hear the concert from out front, without the distraction of having to follow lighting cues, etc., so I swapped duty with another guy and paid for tickets. Good ones, so I'd be up close. Made the mistake of taking a date; she wound up annoyed at me because I was leaning forward studying their chords and picking patterns so closely, I totally ignored her throughout. Didn't get a goodnight kiss, but I did fall in love with Martin slothead dreads that evening.

 

Only two other brushes with famous or near famous that I can recall right now:

* During high school, probably 1966 or 1967, while at a speech tournament in Denton, Texas, I stood behind Jerry van Dyke (brother of **** van Dyke and IIRC star of the shortlived sitcom My Mother The Car) in a fast food restaurant. He was carrying a banjo case but he didn't pull it out to play...just ordered a sandwich and sat down to eat.

* In around 1982, early '80s anyway, I was hired to write a script for a public service announcement for Lighthouse for the Blind to warn people of the dangers to eyes in accidents. The spokesperson was to be Sammy Davis Jr. who'd lost HIS eye exactly that way. He was giving us two hours during a whirlwind trip to San Antonio. So I worked like crazy to do research on Davis's story and craft the spot around his personal experience...delivered a couple of versions to the client, who loved the script and assured me they'd contact Davis, clear everything and call me if rewrites were needed prior to the shoot. Great. So the production company tells me when to show up...they'd hired a suite at one of the elegant old hotels downtown instead of dressing a stage set. Got there and it was a fiasco. Word had gotten out and a giant crowd of people was in the lobby and the hall. I wedged in and waited with the crew. Davis arrives very late, looking very tired and surrounded by an entourage. I'm shoved way to the back with the rest of the hoi polloi and don't even get to meet the man or shake his hand. They rush him through makeup, sit him in a chair, and someone hands him a script. He reads...and from my place in the back of the room, I realize he's NEVER SEEN IT BEFORE. He turns to the director, says...No, I don't want to say this. Tell you what, just roll camera and let me try something. So they roll camera, and in two or three takes, he ad libs a message that's utterly non-personal but quite smooth and professional sounding. So much for my script.

 

Hey, if I could trade any of these experiences for a couple of lessons from Doc Watson, I'd do it in a heartbeat.

 

Dirk

 

***Realized after the fact that Ferrante & Teicher and Sammy Davis Jr. don't exactly qualify as "players" (in the sense of guitar players) as implied by the original poster--and even with a banjo case, Jerry van Dyke is pushing it--so mea culpa.

[vincentw]

Just flew into Las Vegas at 8pm. Take taxi to Hard Rock Hotel 9pm. Check in, take bags to room 9:20pm. Back downstairs heading into The Pink Taco for dinner 9:30pm. At the same time, exactly, walks in Billy Gibbons. I pause, he pauses, I introduce myself. A few brief mentions of Gibson guitars, etc., and he invites me to his dinner table where his lovely wife was sitting. I spent the next 45 minutes having dinner with Gibbons and his wife while we chatted up vintage guitars, vintage pickups, and Gibsons. Nicest guy in the business.