I think the It Gets Better Project for gay teenagers is a great idea. There is nothing as depressing for a young person than to experience ostracism, bashing and abuse in a period of life that's hard enough to deal with. I'd like to point out though, that not only gays suffer from this kind of thing in their teenage years.

When I was in junior high, living a normal social life with friends of both sexes, looking forward to a sex life on the near horizon, my family moved 2,000 miles across the US and I was plunged into a new school in the middle of the second year. The social pecking order in such places is already established, I didn't fit in anywhere. I was pretty much shunned by most of the other students, but I met a friend and neighbor, Owen Husney with whom I've corresponded all these years. Owen and I shared the common problem of "not fitting in" and we hit it off right away. We both learned to play the guitar and formed a band. Later we went our separate ways musically, but we've kept current with each other. We both went on in life to do some surprising things, considering how little respect we got in those early years. After playing and recording with a band called High Spirits in Minneapolis, Owen got into management and signed and developed an artist who has made a deep and lasting mark in the musical landscape: Prince. Owen also managed Al Jarreau, a seven-time Grammy award winning jazz singer. Owen has been playing the big league of the music business for decades.

On the occasion of fifty years passing since we first met outside on a snowy day in Minnesota, I recorded a chat with Owen about our lives then and now.

It Does Get Better by randulo

I was fortunate enough to have taken a lesson from Ted in L.A. long,
long ago in a galaxy... etc.

Ted was a prime example of the kind of mind-blowing genius who somehow
remained humble and generous. Ted reminds me of a great story told
by the late, great jazz pianist Oscar Peterson.

Oscar said when he was a kid learning the piano, his dad played him a
recording of Art Tatum. He tells how he started crying and begged his
father to tell him this was not one but two people playing the piano
at once!

Ted's book, Chord Chemistry is the most important guitar book ever
written: thousands of chords in only two positions. Most chord
encyclopedia repeat every chord 12 times. Chord Chemistry has the most
important ear training exercises for a guitarist who really wants to
understand harmony.

Here's a video taped at a wedding in 1989 where Ted plays a medley of
beautiful standards.

It's thanks to video tape technology from the last century that we can
hear this and to Youtube, the technology of today that we can still
see and hear it today.

If you're too young to know who Cream is, wikipedia will tell you. I recall going to see them in Minneapolis in their heyday. Oddly enough, they played in a small venue and the size of the crowd may be why Jack Bruce refused to play at all. Now a trio without bass can be a pitiful thing. In fact, Bruce, who I imagine thought he was the leader and most talented of the band at the time, probably thought his not playing killed the gig. Not true.

You know how your grandma said "if life throws you a lemon, make lemonade"? Well, that's what exactly Eric Clapton and Ginger Baker did. They got up and played jammed for at least 45 minutes. I'm pretty sure Clapton wasn't singing at all in those days, but he was inventive enough to pour out some amazing shit and Ginger was able to dance around it on the drums. I don't doubt that what was played on the stage was more exciting than Bruce's somewhat generous version of himself.

Clapton and Baker didn't just shove it because Mr. Bruce refused to play, they took responsibility and got up there. There is a dearth of souls out there in this day and age who'll do that, and a glut of those who are always blaming others for what happens in their lives.

In 19ss (sixty-something), I played 5 or 6 nights a week in a bar in downtown Minneapolis, the Vincent van Go-Go. We called it "The Vincent". I can't recall if the bad had yet changed names to The Soul Heirs, or were we still Froggy and His Friends? I know that Doug "Froggy" Nelson quit early on and Warren L. replaced him on drums. Warren is still around in Mpls, selling clothes, something he was always interested in more than anyone in the band. He picked out the "uniforms" we wore and called the combinations for each night. "Clown and pumpkin tomorrow night, guys!". That referred to a checkered top and pumpkin-colored pants.

On bass guitar was Charlie L. The latest news I have on him was his arrest for pilfering 'script drugs in houses listed on the real eastate market. When bass player Michael Brown joined us, Charlie played rhythm guitar. He was the main vocalist and sang Ray Charles' version of You Are My Sunshine. The less said about that, the better, I think. When Charlie took the occasional guitar solo, my longtime friend Zippy Caplan qualified the sound as "nursery rhyme leads". Michael was a cool guy, very laid back black dude who played the shit out of a Fender 5-string bass. We used to go out for food after the gig mosts nights, usually to Embers.

The waitresses were memorable at the Vincent. Phyllis and Jackie are the two who come to mind. I tried, but never got next to either one, but they were both very nice to me. I don't like the expression "hit" with relation to women, by the way, and have always thought Jimi's "Let me stand into your fire" the ultimate perfect image of the act. Nevertheless, I did neither with either.

I recall only a few of the tunes we played. I remember practicing the harmonics for hours in the solo of Nowhere Man by the Beatles. I think we probably also played Sea of Love, as I can recall Charlie singing that. We must have played more Beatles tunes. Also She's An Artist, Don't Look Back, or whatever that Dylan tune was called. I remember Dave "Snaker" Ray (RIP) or Spider John Koerner (holy moley, Spider is like a decade older than me). One of these guys came in to the bar one night and told me I "needed some guitar lessons". I took that advice decades later when I took a lesson from the truly great Ted Greene, who wrote a book every guitar player should study, regardless of what kind of music you play: Chord Chemistry.

I look back at these days of (relative) innocense with pleasure. I was lucky I guess not to fall victim to forces that ruined many peoples' lives indefinitely, including drug and alcohol abuse but also getting drafted into a particularly ugly and motiveless war. And this bar gig came just at the very beginnings of what was later know as the sexual revolution.

I had a recent experience of meeting someone who is "Internet famous", an organizer of conferences and a name in the tech world. While it may have been because of the extreme travel conditions, I found him to be cold, begrudgingly offering a limp handshake,  and generally not giving a rat's ass about what I said, which was basically an appreciation of what he's done in the past. My mind has come around to thinking of this person as a sham and a ruthless self-promoter who spams all Linkedin connections on the premise that "if you're connected, you're interested in everything I'm doing". I mention this for a reason: it's bullshit. Unless you are only connected to a very small number of people and can follow every single event they produce regardless of whether it is of interest to you or even happening on a continent you inhabit or not. I've met a lot of people in over 40 years on the road. Nothing is uglier than those who think they are hot shit; they are only half right about that.

While I was visiting Shanghai, I noticed that Herbie Hancock was appearing there in concert a couple of nights. He was even quoted in the China Daily newspaper, calling China "a beacon of [hope and friendship]". Seeing Herbie's name reminded me of the day I met him. My old friend Victor was playing bass in the Monster Band at that time and so was my other piano hero, Nate Ginsberg. Imagine being a keyboard player for Herbie? I was able to go hang out at a rehearsal they were having. The photo shows the look the guys had - hair really changes in 3 decades.

I've always been more interested in the piano than the guitar, so my heroes over the years have been Art Tatum, Oscar Petersen, Red Garland, Wynton Kelly, Monk, McCoy Tyner, Herbie, Chick Corea, Keith Jarret and of course the great Bill Evans. I've seen several of thgese guys live. We saw Bill Evans in an L.A. club where they wouldn't let us sit in the empty front row, because it was "reserved for the press". It remained empty all night. Bill, and Monk too, were both in their last phases of illness when I saw them at Shelly's Manne Hole. Maybe in Bill's case substance abuse added to the mix. I know it wouldn't have been pleasant to meet either at that time of their lives, but Herbie... He was already huge in jazz, respected by all and now he was a rising star with the younger generation, funky music with great musicians, monsters playing the shit out of it! As you got bigger, many accused him of "selling out". Funny how that happens, in the arts, success is always associated with "selling out"

So the memory of Herbie is simple, They were playing a high energy tune, I moved over to the other side in front of the stage and just as I crossed over to get a better look at Herbie, I unplugged the entire P.A. system and all the amps, silencing everyone but Sheila, whose percussion went on for a few seconds. I immediately put the conectors back together or maybe a roadie did while I tried for invisibility. The fact is though, I did meet Herbie after the rehearsal, he of course recognized me immediately and waved away my apology. I noticed his reaction as I told him what you do in that situation, trying to express your admiration, something they've heard a zillion times before. Herbie is undoubtedly one of the great piano geniuses of all time. Unlike say, Bill Evans, who was a horrible, unhappy guy to just about everyone, Herbie made me feel like telling him about listening to his music mattered, it pleased him that his artistic endeavors made a difference to people, regardless of who or where they were. Most will never have to find out, but if you acheived stardom, what exactly would you be like? I wonder if the growing number of wannabes on reality shows are practicing their "nice" chops? 

Started a new Remembering Paul site for people who'd like to contribute to his memorial

On the night of our 30th wedding anniversary I learn of the death of Paul Lagos, a man who had a tremendous influence on me musically since our first meeting in the early 70's. Paul and I were born on the same date, but different years.

Paul played with Kaleidoscope and recorded with Leo Kotke, did a lot of recording in L.A., played in the Johnny Otis Revue and then went on tour with John Mayall, John Klemmer, did a bunch of gigs in Los Angeles with jazz and blues players. We toured together in the Pure Food and Drug Act in 1972.

Yes it was a long time ago, when you got on stage with instruments; drums, guitars and a sound system and made music, sounds you heard in your imagination and then translated through your limbs to skins and guts.

Paul taught me about Miles and Coltrane and Joseph Schillinger, about Joe Henderson and Thelonius Monk. We were kids, Victor Conte and I, and we lived in his basement with his flea-infested Great Dane, "Gretta", and we were privileged to meet the likes of the brilliant saxophonist Richard Aplanaugh and Don 'Sugarcane' Harris - who, with Dewey Terry, wrote "I'm Leaving it All Up to You", one of the most played songs on the radio for years. Paul was a GIANT, I'll miss him.

The last time I saw Paul was on a tour for my own CD in about 1995 in France and Switzerland. Ironically, Paul and I played in Geneva in 1974 with a band called the Curtis Brothers. That gig was the inspiration for my song "Woman In White" which was linked to by a nurses' site but in fact the woman in white wasn't a nurse but a powder. Oh, the irony of the Internetz...

Paul, I didn't get to tell you that I loved you man, and now I can't even find out how to contact the woman you lived with to tell her how much your life and advice meant to me. Maybe someone will read it here.

We shared a short period of music nearly 40 years ago, I feel "we hardly knew ye". Thanks for Trane, Miles, Bird, Monk and yes, the blues I feel tonight in learning of your passing.

Please take a moment to listen to this song. It isn't Paul on drums, he would have played it a lot better, but he was there when this moment took place and we laughed about it many times - because we survived it.

The Woman in White

I had a dreamIn the blue of the nightI was caught in the schemeOf the Woman in WhiteLong agoThrough the mists of the pastShe blackened my soulIt all happened so fastDown Cadillac ValleyI copped me a dimeDid it in the alleyTo save a lotta timeWhen I almost died...As I slid to the groundI heard kind of cryLike a siren soundAnd I rememberMoments of blissThe scent of a smileor the color of her kissBut seeds of sorrowLay buried deep withinAnd I'm never going back Never goin' back thereEver againI woke with a screamIn a stone cold sweatI know that meansThat I'll never forgetThat she got my moneyNearly took my lifeIt's time I stopped runningFrom the Woman In WhiteAnd I rememberMoments of blissThe scent of a smileor the color of her kissBut seeds of sorrowLay buried deep withinNever going back Never goin' back thereEver again

 "Why?" I asked, having to try to keep the party going and get it got to
the conclusion we were hoping for, Victor and I.

 "Because it's so repetitive." said Bambi.

 We always had stuff playing and at that time it was a tape of Ron Carter with
Herbie Hancock and Wayne Shorter and Tony WIlliams. The baddest of the
bad, together. They played some kind of crazy stuff so creative it
scared me. As the above exchange was taking place, Ron and the boys
launched into the head of a tune, played it twice, and then took off on
15 minutes of improvised solos. Although improvised, at this level there
is structure and if you listen you can hear it. It's the best kind of
structure, not contrived but perceived and shared on the fly.

 So after 15 minutes of beauty from chaos, the band played the head of
the tune again. Bambi said: "See what I mean? Too much repetition!"

 Ironic that she actually was able to recognize the melody (thanks to
repetition through the changes of the head) and yet couldn't hear the
music.

 Imposing order on chaos doesn't guarantee quality, but at the worst, at
least it's a sign of good workmanship.

 Turning chaos into beauty is a miraculous thing, like a spider web. It
takes a human being to perceive the structure and with it the beauty of
the creation of great art, great music, great food and great wine.

 American Petrochemical: Lab assistant in a plastics and paint factory

 Chicken Delight: Cole slaw maker, blow torch operator, delivery boy

 Vincent Van Go-Go: 6 night a week bar gig (all day free at the beach)

 various music gigs in Twin Cities

 USAF: Cryptographer (not fun)

 various music gigs and recordings in California

 John Mayall tours to Europe and Asia

 Various blues and jazz gigs with John Lee Hooker, John Klemmer

 Laser Images: Laserist and Laserist manager in Van Nuys, CA.

 Universal Studios: Radio technician

 KMEX: video technician

 Générale des Eaux: programmer for small systems, then mini-computers

 GTIE: CAD/CAM manager

 Intergraph France: Liaison for software developed in France (We were on the Internet in 1987 using things like rpipe and telnet.)

 Independent, then founded the company

 Of all the stuff on the list, only a few things really stand out, things that when learned early in life can serve you well. For example,

 - after working in fast food, I can tell you: you should never eat things made be teenagers unless they live with you. Even then, you probably wouldn't want to.

 - you should be thankful there is no obligatory military service, although you learn a lot from the experience which basically amounts to incarceration. Fortunately, I did not get sent to 'Nam.

 - I learned a lot about computing by taking advantage of the training a DEC for operating systems like RT-11, RSX-11 both running on the PDP-11. I took home each of the 20 volumes of documentation of each system and read them through.

 - earning your money as a musician is "fantastically awesome" during the time of your life when you can say those words with conviction. After about 35, it's not that great. Good money (when you can sleep in a room), lots of chicks and playing is a great expression of emotion. Seeing what the guys become later in life is another story. Several of my musician friends are dead.

 - one of the most memorable moments I had was working as a laserist at Griffith Park Observatory. On a few rare nights, the entire L.A. basin was covered in clouds and the observatory was above them. I looked out over a white, fluffy sea of clouds, covered in the bright moonlight from a small island that was to top of the hill. Unforgettable! Someone must have photographed this?

One of the awful things about a long life with a lot of different careers, lifestyles and and endless stream of cities, towns and countries is that you begin to notice people dropping away. Here's a short shout out to to those who fell by the wayside, leaving this mortal coil.

 
He got a lethal disease that some say can be caused by sulfites in the white zin he drank to excess. Most wine lovers would say that drinking any amount of white zin is an excess. He was horribly politically incorrect, making fun of people with deformities, handicaps or any other thing he could grab hold of. I met his dad, who was blind and I guess this is where that came from; RIP Lou.
 
He was a Navy fighter pilot who died of AIDS in his 40's, a creative and intelligent guy. He also pissed me off when as my boss, he yelled at me for no reason. Then I quit. RIP Gene.
 
He was larger then life, yet never fulfilled the potential because of drugs which eventually caused him to need an oxygen bottle to drag around. He was found dead kneeling at that bottle trying to adjust the valve. RIP Don (see the Unforgettable Sugarcane Harris)
 
With Don (above) he co-wrote a song heard literally millions of times in so many versions: "I'm Leaving It (All) Up To You". Don is "Harris" and Dewey was "Terry" on the song credit. These guys got totally screwed out of all the royalties of the song, which made zillions. Here's a bit more about Don & Dewey.
RIP bro, you were a good man.

 He was a prolific painter, father of three boys and a musician. As a painter, he leaves behind many works considered to be some of the most brilliant work in the genre of "fantastic realism". I hope you've found peace, Judson. Here's more about him and an idea of his work.

I remember him as a sweet guy if not a good musician. Easy to get along with, great looking Portuguese girlfriend. Chuck, a drummer I played with years ago blew himself away in a shed, depression got the best of him.

My uncle Harold just passed away a few days ago. He has no wikipedia entry, nothing on the Internet at all I'll bet, but he was a good man and an inspiration to me. Funny, in the last part of his life, he suddenly wanted to be called Charlie. I'll always remember him as Uncle Harold.
 
My step father, my oldest step-brother (listen to doctors when they tell you how not to kill yourself), my father and then my mother all left the building that is this Earth where I've spent 22,300 days.

In around 1993 I had the good luck to assemble musicians from Tower of Power and Herbie Hancock's Monster Band, including Nate Ginsberg on keys and Victor (Balco) Conte on bass to record some of my tunes. Drummer Ronnie Beck, also of the TOP rhythm section, was a part of the mix and my buddy Coleman Head is on rhythm guitar. The song I link to here is called "Log Jam". I loved doing this music with these guys, and there's a lot more of it burt this particular one is special.
 
These guys are remarkable musicians. We has a few minutes of tape left from the session of other, more structured songs we had actually rehearsed. I showed them the chords, the intro and the end, and we ran the tape and that was it.
 
The Log Jam
 
Generally, the music you hear has been rehashed, produced and remixed for weeks, sometimes months. This tune was recorded with the ambient energy, rough mixed in an hour or so and what you hear is what you get. That's important to me. I hope you'll enjoy it.
 
There's sometime about the raw creativity that happens in a session like this. Kinda breaks the mold.