My Musical Journey. Part 16: King of the Blues Guitar.

1969 was a major turning point in my life. In 1968, after flunking out of college and losing my student draft deferment, I reported to the Selective Service Center in Santa Ana for my physical, expecting to be whisked off to Vietnam. Instead, I was classified 1Y, undraftable except in a national emergency. My bad eyesight had saved my ass. 

Without the draft and imminent death hanging over me, I went back to Orange Coast College to improve my grade average. In January 1969, a guy down the block who was classified 1A fled to Canada. His parents asked me to drive his VW van loaded with all his belongings to Vancouver for him. 

Even then I loved road trips and really loved the idea of doing one solo. I left Laguna early one morning in the underpowered, overloaded van. As the sun came up, I was pulling into Santa Barbara and the radio announced some exciting news: they were going to be playing an exclusive--the debut album of a brand new British supergroup called Led Zeppelin. 

I was a fan of Jimmy Page from his days with the Yardbirds, so from the first chords of "Dazed and Confused," I was hooked.

But the real musical revelation wouldn't occur until later in the trip.

I stopped in Chico, California to visit my cousin Ruth and her husband Tommy. He was an accomplished artist who taught at Chico State. I was stuck in Chico for several days because heavy snows closed the pass through the Siskyous, so I had time to fall in love with Chico and forge a bond with Tommy and Ruth. Later that year, I transferred to Chico State and began my college career anew, completing my last three years in two and a half with a 3.8 grade average.
But that was in the future; to get there I had to get through the Siskyous. I eventually did, making my way through the mountains in a blizzard at night without chains.

The next stop was Portland Oregon and a visit with my Uncle David. As I arrived in Portland, I heard the song that changed my musical tastes yet again: "Crosscut Saw" by Albert King.
I have always preferred Albert to B.B. The reason is his spare, uncluttered style. He bends and stretches the notes and makes each one count with little or no fill. To me his music has an almost Japanese/Zen quality, simple and elegant and clean. "Crosscut Saw" is a showcase for his style, featuring notes stretched out beyond all reason and a staccato drum track that is infectiously propulsive.

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"Oh, Pretty Woman" is another one of my favories.

From the Montreaux Jazz Festival, this is one of my favorite live sets. The great Rory Gallagher puts in an amazing solo, but Albert tops him.

The highlight of the rest of the trip was being detained and harassed at the border by agents who wouldn't believe that I wasn't fleeing the draft. I had to leave the van in Washington while I crossed into Canada. One of the owner's friends was finally able to retrieve the van after a few days.

I flew home from Vancouver, my first ever flight. I loved the sensation of flying. Still do.

Later I found out that, without telling me, the owner of the van had stashed a kilo of grass amongst his stuff. I was extremely lucky that the van wasn't searched or the story of my life would have been quite different. I never forgave him for that.

All in all, the trip was quite a rite of passage for me. Years later, I was able to see Albert King a couple times at the Golden Bear, a very small venue in Huntington Beach. He played "Crosscut Saw."

P.