Roadie Report 46 - Lectures and Pete Seeger's Garden Party -A Glimpse Backstage- by Camilla McGuinn

Usually upon arrival at the “Sheraton On the Hudson” in Weehawken, NJ, we park in the lot and unload our van from there, but this time it was raining. We drove under the awning of the hotel entrance. While the bellman was maneuvering our equipment, a gentleman excitedly approached Roger with that tentative question we often hear, “Roger McGuinn?”
“Yes.”
“We came here from Canada for the show at Madison Square Garden.” Then he spotted me and excitedly commented, “You’re Camilla! We’re here at this hotel because we read about it in your BLOG.”

It was the first time someone seemed more excited to see me than to see Roger. I was flattered and thrilled to meet one of the three people I imagine who read the BLOG. On this tour, I found out there are a few more than three readers, because I have been reminded several different times that I haven’t written lately. Those reminders were encouragements to dust off the keyboard and type. It is a good thing too, because I don’t want to forget the wonderful events we have recently experienced.

Two years ago, Roger decided that he wanted to connect more with schools since it was a visit by Bob Gibson to his high school that set him on the road to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. I called Andrea at Skyline and asked her to begin mentioning to colleges that Roger would also be available for give a lecture the day before a concert. Monmouth University was the first college to invite Roger to lecture.

The Folk Alliance invited Roger to give the key note address for their February convention in Memphis. This folk singer was becoming a speaker.
On March 19, 2009 Roger gave his first lecture to a high school class. It was in Rockford, Illinois. We walked out of the classroom with smiles on our faces. The music students appeared interested in the stories Roger shared with them. During the Q & A, a student asked Roger, “What was the most important decision you ever made in the record business?”
“Getting out of it.” Roger quickly replied.
He went on to tell them that with the internet and modern technology, he has been able to develop his own recording business and he’s having a lot of fun doing it. He told them that if you love what you are doing, you don’t have to work a day in your life.

Another lecture was schedule at Monmouth University for May 2. This time I asked the staff to invite people to bring their guitars.


After Roger explained how folk music took him to the Hall of Fame, he asked the students to open their guitar cases because they were all going to play a few songs together. There was a cacophony of strings until Roger led them through the tuning process. After all the guitars were blending, Roger sat down and said, “We’re going to play Mr. Tambourine Man. One, two, three, four. One, two, three…’Hey Mr. Tambourine Man…’”

My mouth dropped open when I heard almost 50 guitars and singers join together in harmony from the first note. They finished and then flowed into “Turn, Turn, Turn.” After another round of questions, Roger finished the afternoon with everyone singing and playing “Mr. Spaceman.”

He was smiling broadly when he declared to the group,”You’re now officially all Byrds!"

The first weekend in May was jammed packed with exciting events, but I was beginning to think that those moments at Monmouth couldn’t be topped.

Sunday was Pete Seeger’s 90th birthday party at Madison Square Garden. What a party it was! The Garden was sold out and the cast of performers covered decades of talented musicians. Everyone donated their time and talents to celebrate the life of a man who always chose the paths of love and justice. All of the proceeds from the concert were for the “Clearwater.” The project Pete began in the 60’s to clean up the Hudson River.

For Roger, this evening was an ultimate class re-union. The names on the door for his shared dressing room were Arlo Guthrie, Tim Robbins, Ramblin' Jack Elliott, Kris Kristofferson and Roger McGuinn.
Throughout the evening, there were joyous smiles and handshakes with friends from Greenwich Village to California, many of whom Roger had not seen in over 20 years.








Ben and Trevor from Band of Horses, along with the Saturday Night Live band, joined Roger on the song, “Turn, Turn, Turn.” There wasn’t enough time to sing his other Pete Seeger favorite, “Bells of Rhymney,” but he didn’t mind. He told the Bob Ezrin, the director, he would be happy just to sweep the stage.

We woke up Monday morning still excited about the incredible weekend we had just experienced. The lecture on Friday, was followed on Saturday night with a co-billed concert of friends, John Sebastian and Roger McGuinn. Then it was time for Pete’s Party on Sunday. Each moment would have marked a weekend as very special on its own, but to have those three events happening in one weekend was one for the memory banks.

By noon we had answered a ton of email. Then it was time to ride the ferry across the Hudson to meet Patrick and Wilson at the Oyster Bar in Grand Central Station. Lunch in that beautiful train station and then a stroll through the market place to buy chocolate has become a tradition for every visit to the City.

After lunch, we went to 47th street to find “Masters of Time.” A watch maker who has gained great acclaim for the tender care he gives to fixing broken watches. His wife Rita tends the small desk in the Exchange. I wasn’t sure I wanted to leave Roger’s birthday gift from my mother with strangers, but when we met Rita, I knew that the watch was in good hands. Her sincerity and love of her husband’s craft bonded us to her almost immediately. She and her husband are a “mom and pop” business. We identified with their business model.

Tuesday morning Rita called and said the watch was fixed. She wanted Roger to have it before we left for Europe at the end of May, so her husband made a special effort to fix it quickly.

I’m sitting on the bed, looking out the window at the gray clouds hiding the top of the Empire State Building. I have spent the last three months buried under a mountain of paper work. July’s logistics still need to be organized for our upcoming two month tour of Europe, but this moment of reflection has been good for my soul. It is true; you never have to work a day in your life, if you love what you do.

Roadie Report 45 - Eight Miles High - by Camilla McGuinn

Photo by Camilla

The BBC invited Roger to perform for their series called “Folk
America” being filmed at the Barbican Theatre in London, on
January 22, 2009. Nick Peel, Roger’s International agent, ironed
out all the details. Martin Guitar arranged for a Roger McGuinn HD-7, 7-string guitar. The promoter arranged for a pretty red 360 model 12-string Rickenbacker guitar and I booked the tickets.

Promoters usually balk when I tell them Roger's travel requirements, but then I find a deal they can’t refuse. I found one with Virgin Atlantic. On January 19, a Virgin Atlantic chauffeur arrived at our home to drive us to Miami. There is a direct flight from Orlando to London, but we call that the “kiddies’ flight.” A Virgin flight soaring to the "land of the mouse” is usually packed with excited little mouths, loudly proclaiming their presence.

Roger tells friends, "Camilla likes to be at the airport an hour before the airplane leaves the city it is coming from." I really don’t like running to catch a plane especially this time, since I was still in a "boot" with a broken foot. The car arrived at Miami International four hours before our evening departure to London. We happily passed the time enjoying a late lunch at the airport hotel.

The plane was only delayed half an hour before boarding. By 10pm, satisfied passengers were fed and dreaming in their Virgin Air pods.

When an airplane lands early in the morning, your hotel room is not likely to be ready. A wonderful perk of Virgin Atlantic, is the arrivals lounge. We had a leisurely breakfast before a driver navigated the streets of London to our hotel. On the way, traffic was stopped at Buckingham Palace for a small parade of the guards. We were the first car behind the march, so it felt like we were in the parade.

It was a day for parades. There was a big one happening in Washington D.C. Barack Obama was making history in America. This was one inauguration we didn’t want to miss viewing.
Years ago when we traveled in Europe, we always carried a short-wave radio to hear English news. Now with satellites broadcasting over many channels, television coverage of the inauguration was on every channel. We chose to watch the BBC coverage, because after all, we were in London. Jet lag hit before the inauguration parade, so we missed the Dave Barry moment of him being embedded.

Photo by Camilla

London is a great walking town, but with a “foot boot” on my right foot, we were relegated to the London taxis. Getting into one of those big black spacious cabs always makes me feel like I’m in a movie.

The BBC show featured four artists who walked the streets of Greenwich Village in the early 1960’s. Billy Brag was the master of ceremonies and Judy Collins closed the show. In between, Roger, Carolyn Hester and Eric Andersen echoed the sounds of the Village. Roger did add his acoustic version of “Eight Miles High.” He didn’t write it in the village with Gene and David,but it is a song about a trip to England.

1965
Jim McGuinn, Gene Clark and David Crosby were sitting in a mid-west hotel room strumming guitars while experimenting with an illicit drug of the time. Think of an automotive product.

Gene began playing a tune he had been exploring. He invited Jim and David to join him in writing the lyrics. After bantering a few ideas between them, Jim suggested, "Let’s write it about our trip to England."

The Byrds had just returned from their first concert tour of England. The promoter touted the tour to the press as "America's Answer to the Beatles." That one sentence cocked the guns of the British press. The group was the victim of target practice before the airplane even touched down.

Riding in limousines on the streets of London was exhilarating, overwhelming and wet. Culture shock bombarded the novice travelers immediately. The eccentricity of the press, the hectic pace of the schedule, along with a flu bug for Jim and Michael Clark, made the days and evenings seem like they were spinning out of control.

Derek Taylor, the Byrds newly hired publicist, had also worked with the Beatles. He arranged the first meeting with the Byrds and Beatles. The Rolling Stones came to their shows. Even though the press was slamming everything the Byrds did, the camaraderie of this small world of musicians was not affected by the petty rivalry being instigated by burning typewriter keys.

Back in the mid-west hotel room, Gene liked the idea of writing the song about the trip. His first question was how high the airplane was flying. Jim's love of aviation had the answer tucked in the recesses of his mind. "Let's do the math. around 33,000 ft divided by 5280 is around ... 6 miles high."

Gene pondered a moment. "No. I like the sound of 8 better than 6 because the Beatles wrote ‘8 days a week’."

Eight Miles High took flight.

Roger doesn't usually tell people about how images evolve into song lyrics, but this song was censored by radio because one person decided he 'knew' the theme of the song. The Gavin Report declared it was a song about drugs and encouraged it to be banned from airplay. It was banned by radio stations across the continent. Censorship was alive and flourishing in America. Even the Columbia Records mighty machine couldn’t stop that false accusation. The song was written while drugs were being experienced, but the lyrics were inspired by an historical trip to England. Here is Roger's explanation of the song words located in parenthesis below the lyric:

Eight miles high and when you touch down
You’ll find that it’s stranger than known
(The cultural shock they experienced)
Signs in the street that say where you’re going
Are somewhere just being their own
(The street names in London are posted high on the sides of the corner buildings, not on a post.)

Nowhere is there warmth to be found
Among those afraid of losing their ground
(The British press didn't like the promoters touting the Byrds as America's answer to the Beatles)
Rain gray town known for its sound
(Foggy, rainy London. The town Americans associated with the sound of the Beatles and the Rolling Stones)
In places small faces unbound
(The screaming little girl fans everywhere the group stepped)

Round the squares huddled in storms
(The groups of fans waiting for them in the rain)
Some laughing some just shapeless forms
Sidewalk scenes and black limousines
(Getting out of the limos and being pressed by the crowds on the sidewalks)
Some living some standing alone
(The kids excited by the mayhem of the scene while the policemen stood by watching)

Now back to the future:
2009

We had one day off before our flight home. After an interview with Mandy Moore from BBC radio and a business meeting with Nick to discuss the summer tour in the UK and Europe, we set our course for a late lunch at a London landmark.

The food court at Harrods has high quality kitchens surrounded by seated bars. We have always been drawn to the seafood grill. As we walked toward our favorite corner, two seats opened up at the new Caviar bar. With one quick look at each other, we jumped on those empty stools. Watching the creative cooks, the United Nations of people strolling by and tasting the food in the bustling food court creates a memory easily refreshed by all the senses.

Photo by Camilla


Within a week’s time, we flew to London; joined a parade; watched an American historical inauguration on BBC television; filmed a show for BBC television; enjoyed an evening with old friends and watched the clouds float around the Tower of Big Ben.

Old memories and new memories; London is one of our favorite cities. We're looking forward to going back in June!


Photos by Camilla

Roadie Report 44 - From The Desert to The Sea and the Fall in Between- by Camilla McGuinn

THE DESERT Photos by Camilla McGuinn

A few days ago I finally opened my computer with the conviction to give an explanation for the absence of a Blog for the past few months. Writing the little note was enough to get me back to the keyboard.

The Fall of 2008 was a wonderful time of touring for us. We traveled to the northeast during the peak of the Fall season. It was during one of the tours that I broke my foot.

The story begins in May at the gathering of the Astronaut's Hall of Fame. Astronaut Jeffrey Hoffman’s wife, Barbara, described the exciting experience they'd had on the Queen Elizabeth II ocean liner. Jeff had been invited to give a lecture and she joined him for the romantic trip. When I heard the stories, bells went off in my head.

Roger and I had been talking about doing a European tour the old fashion way. The bygone days of traveling to and from Europe only on ocean liners seemed like pages out of a romantic novel. To accomplish the dream, without breaking the bank, we were going to need a little creative planning. When Barbara told me about their trip, I immediately asked for the name of the agent who booked the lecture.

Within the month, I was emailing Tim in New York City with the best pitch line I could muster of why a cruise liner would want to book Roger McGuinn to give a lecture. Roger has been lecturing for several years at various colleges on the day before a concert. Sharing stories about his experience in the music world sounded more relaxing than giving a concert on the cruise ship because cruise lines require two concerts a night. Roger decided years ago that performing two shows on the same night was not fair to the audience. It is not wise to use 100% of his energy for one concert when another is schedule a few hours later.

Tim thought our idea might work. I had already researched the schedules of all the cruise lines which had Atlantic Ocean crossings and gave him the dates that I thought would work for us. A few weeks later, Tim called. The Crystal Serenity was leaving Miami on May 23, sailing for Portugal. Roger was invited to give two unique lectures, on two different afternoons during the 10 day cruise.

A few minutes later, I was on the telephone talking to Nick Peel, Roger's international agent, asking him to book concerts in Europe and the United Kingdom for June and July of 2009. The first part of our romantic novel was becoming a reality. All we have to do now is find a way back from Europe.

The news of the Crystal Cruise sent me soaring. We wanted to meet Tim. He lived in New York City which was perfect because Roger had a concert scheduled at the Abrons Art Center in the City on Sept. 26th.

We arrived at the Weehawken, NJ, Sheraton-On-the-Hudson on Wednesday. A luncheon meeting was arranged with Tim. In order not to be late, we planned to take the Ferry to the city about an hour before our appointment.

We galloped down ten flights of stairs - any excuse for exercise on the road. When we stepped out of the hotel, the Ferry was docking. I began to run for it. Roger called, "Camilla, don't run!" I tripped on the curb and went sprawling on the road. Roger was horrified. I quickly jumped up hoping to get the look of horror off his face. I assured him I wasn’t injured, gathered my scattered belongings and limped to the entrance of the Ferry boat. As I sat down, I felt a sharp twinge coming from my right foot. The Ferry terminal on the New York side of the Hudson River has a concession stand and I was hopeful I could get some ice there to soothe my foot’s pain as soon as the 10 minute ride was over.

The kind man selling coffee and sweets was very sympathetic while he filled a plastic bag full of ice, he wouldn't even take a tip. Since we were early, we stayed 15 minutes in the terminal with my iced foot propped up on the plastic chairs. While I was making faces at my foot, Roger pointed at a Ferry boat docking and quietly commented, "Camilla, see that Ferry. It's the one we would have been on, if we had missed the one you were running to catch." My head was shaking from left to right as I sheepishly promised to slow down and not move so fast.

My foot still ached as we boarded the Ferry Bus to our midtown destination. I prayed for heavy traffic because I needed to keep the ice on my foot a bit longer. My prayer was answered. The United Nations was in session and New York City traffic comes to a halt when the world's leaders converge to disagree.

Tim arrived at the Japanese restaurant minutes after we did. During our telephone conversations, I imagined him looking like the actor Hugh Grant because his accent suggested English origins, but I’m seldom right in visualizing people correctly just by the tone of their voice. I decided Tim was probably short and portly. Roger assured me he wasn't. If we were a betting couple, I would have lost. The refined English accent belonged to a tall good-looking man.

Our reservation was for a table on the second floor. While carrying a bag of ice, limping up the stairs, I began explaining why I was leaving water dripping behind me like Hansel and Gretel’s bread crumbs. Sitting down, I quickly ordered a beer because I had taken an aspirin for the foot swelling and my stomach doesn't like aspirin. Tim aristocratically replied, "Ah yes, beer and aspirin." I wasn't sure we were making a good impression.

I bit my bottom lip, slowly took a breath and thought about all the gracious charm my dear southern parents had tried to instill in me. I wanted Tim to be confident we were worthy to handle the Crystal ambassadorship. Our conversation followed the normal paths of common ground and then we ordered lunch.

Tim told us he didn't really like hot wasabi. His comment opened the door for me to tell him how much we love spicy food. In fact, our love of spice is so well known to our friends, that Mary Ann had recently given us each a small stainless steel vial filled with dried chipotle peppers. We attached the vials to our key chains and used the peppers at every meal. The packaging was clever enough to deserve a show and tell moment. I unzipped the side pocket of my travel bag with a quick hand and reached for my keys. In the midst of my falling, the vial had opened. All of a sudden, the pepper powder exploded into the atmosphere, right into my nose and eyes. The sneezes wouldn't stop while my eyes watered profusely. The noise in the whole restaurant ceased as every eye turned in my direction. I looked at Tim and imagined he was thinking,“ I have booked this woman to accompany her husband on one of the most exclusive cruise lines in world!" Time seemed to stop while I pictured myself in a scene from the "I Love Lucy" television show, except I didn't have red hair. I was now sure we were not making a good impression. Fortunately, Tim exhibited a good sense of humor.

By the time we arrived back at the hotel, I felt a need to prop my foot up with some more ice. Roger had a video interview for an American Masters’ special about Joan Baez the next morning. A quiet evening in the hotel with a few snacks from room service sounded like a perfect prescription for my aching foot. The view of the Empire State Building twinkling in the moonlight from the pillows on the bed, made me feel like we had the best table in town.
Photo by Camilla McGuinn

Around 3:am, I awoke with a sharp pain emanating from the top of my foot. I painfully realized my foot was broken. I knew it wouldn’t do any good to wake Roger at that early hour. During our recent experience with previous broken bones we learned that waiting a few hours would not make a big difference in the healing time. I crawled to the other room of the suite and quietly waited for sunrise, while vowing in the future to walk, not run.

In the morning, Roger went to the interview while I telephoned doctors. Michael, the concierge of the hotel, sent up a wheel chair and arranged for transportation to the doctor’s office. The doctor was a young man who made the immature mistake of saying, "... a woman your age." I still smack the air when I repeat those words spoken by that young whippersnapper. When did doctors become so young?

The concert at the Abrons Art Center was wonderful. Roger hadn't performed in the Village, since the Bottom Line closed. Friends had heard of my fall and were volunteering to be the roadie, but I managed on crutches. The next concert at The Egg in Albany, I was in a transport chair. The crutches aggravated a hand problem. I spent the rest of the Fall, being pushed around.

On our way to Albany, we stopped in Coxsackie, NY to say hi to the folks at Sundazed Records, to record "The Return of the Chestnut Mare" at the Easter Island studio and to pick up the transport chair I had ordered.(Photo by Camilla) I sat in the control room of the studio listening to Roger add tracks to the sounds we had previously recorded with Marty Stuart in Nashville. When the inevitable "down time" happened, I snapped pictures of instruments placed in a corner with just the natural light of the studio. Those photos still intrigue me.

The Fall touring continued because unless Roger is physically unable, the show must go on. We were enthralled with the beautiful scenery everywhere we went. Arkansas was our biggest surprise. Its rolling hills were covered with the vibrant Fall colors. We had experienced the magnificent colors of New England, the mountains of Virginia, the Carolinas and Tennessee, and now we knew of the quiet beauty of Arkansas in the Fall.

There was enough time before the Golden, Colorado concert, to stop at the Summit Road Studios in Parker and record a few Christmas songs for "The Chestnut Christmas" CD we are working on.

Golden is a charming town and the drive from there to Ogden, Utah was majestic with only a few snow flurries. Roger did most of the driving, since my right foot was in a corrective "boot."

From Ogden, we drove to Fort Worth, Texas for two concerts. The music store, next to our hotel was decorated for Christmas. It was the perfect time to buy presents for Roger’s family. Roger saw a mandolin he wouldn't put down. That instrument became his Christmas present and he hasn't put it down since.

We drove from the desert to the sea for a concert in Malibu, California at Pepperdine University.

Roger’s shows are filled with stories about the songs he sings and the history he has lived. His encore includes stories too. This is the short story he ended his concert with that night. It is about looking for songs for his "Thunderbyrd" album which was released in 1977 and the friendship that began because of that search.

“‘My manager played me a song that caught my attention. I laughingly asked, 'When did I record that?'
He said, 'It's not you.'
'I know. But who is it?'
'It's this new kid called Tom Petty.' "

The moment Roger said Tom's name, Tom sauntered on stage to join Roger for the performance of "American Girl" and "King of The Hill." Silence hung in the air for a second, the audience was spell bound. When they realized it really was Tom Petty, a loud roar of excitement erupted from the audience.

We could barely get to sleep that night, but we had one more show in San Diego before we put the pedal to metal for the 2442 mile drive home.

John Sebastian and Roger we're co-billing at the Poway Center and as usual, John joined Roger playing some beautiful blues harmonica on some classic songs, including "Knocking On Heaven's Door."

The last date of 2008 was in Stuart, Fl at the lovely Lyric Theater. Carl Hiaasen, the author of "Sick Puppy" and the instigator for Roger joining the "Rock Bottom Remainders" celebrated the last show of the year with us. In Carl’s book, there is an actual “sick puppy” who is re-named “McGuinn” after Roger McGuinn, a great 12-string player, according to Carl. Roger’s album, “Back From Rio” is played on a car tape deck during one scene in the story. Ironically, it was also the album on which Tom Petty had joined Roger as a guest artist.

It would be easy to end this BLOG with all those year-end platitudes, but we're not into endings...besides we have to get ready for a trip to London on January 19th for a concert with some friends that is going to be taped for the BBC.

THE SEA Photos by Camilla McGuinn

Roadie Report 43- The Fall of 2008 by Camilla McGuinn

Photo by Camilla McGuinn


"Roger, I've been thinking."

"Oh no, not again. That usually means trouble"

"Well ever since I broke my foot, I haven't been able to write the BLOG and I feel a little guilty. I think I owe the folks an explanation for my silence. Though I could probably just email all three of them."

"Don't feel guilty. Just write a short note to tell people you broke your foot and you can't write."

"I'm not sure a broken foot is going to translate to why I haven't been able to write the BLOG. Sure, I've been told that I write with my foot, but that is when I'm using a pen not a keyboard."

"Well what are you going to do?"

"Ah...I think I will write a short note to tell the folks that I broke my foot and can't write."

"Say goodnight Gracie."

Roadie Report 42 - A Walk to Battery Park by Camilla McGuinn

I looked up at the blue sky over the closed off construction site. Images of the twin towers flashed from my memory and the words from the Christmas song we had just completed recording rang through my mind:

I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old familiar carols play.
And wild and sweet the words repeat
Of Peace on earth, good will to men.

I thought how as the day had come
The belfries of all Christendom
Had roll'd along th' unbroken song
Of Peace on earth, good will to men.

And in despair, I bow'd my head:
"There is no peace on earth," I said,
"For hate is strong and mocks the song,
Of Peace on earth, good will to men."

This was the first time we had been to ground zero. Peace on earth has always been elusive. Wars have always been but on that day, September 11, 2001, we felt the meaning of the words, “For hate is strong and mocks the song, of peace on earth, good will to men.”

Our walk toward Battery Park around the site was silent. I have always found it hard to understand why the sun still shines when my heart is heavy. Then I remembered the rest of the words to the song:


It was as if an earthquake rent
The hearthstones of a continent,
And made forlorn, the households born
Of peace on earth, good will to men.

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep;
"God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;
The wrong shall fail, the right prevail,
With Peace on earth, good will to men."

Roadie Report 41 - Concerts and Hurricanes by Camilla McGuinn

On Aug 4th we made a fun jaunt to Michigan and Ohio. John Sebastian and Roger were co-billing for two concerts. It's always a delight to hear John playing his wonderful Blues harmonica with Roger for a few songs. We have future shows scheduled with John - click the icon for ‘Tour Dates” on mcguinn.com for updates. An evening with these two storyteller musicians leaves a smile on everyone’s face.

Hurricane Fay began creeping northward from Naples, FL on August 18. The very day we had scheduled to initiate on our new PV solar panels to power most of our house’s electrical needs with the sun’s energy. The rain began ... it didn’t stop for five long days, but the panels worked! Even on rainy cloudy days, our system charged the storage batteries. Our two refrigerators were never in the slightest jeopardy of losing power. Almost everything in the house is now solar powered.

On August 30th, we conducted another experiment with the system. We totally disconnected our house from Progress Energy "grid." The air conditioners, the clothes dryer and the electric range and oven ceased working. We'd planned to see if a portable air conditioner could keep us comfortable throughout the night but guess what ... it rained all day. Hurricane Gustave’s outer bands showered our house. I did manage to wash four loads of laundry on solar power and hung the clothes up to dry on racks, but we didn’t want to take the chance of testing the portable air conditioner. The lights, fans and computers worked all evening. When the sun rose the next day, the batteries totally recharged. A new day dawned and a fresh source of power was available. It was so exciting!

In 1959 I experienced my first hurricane. We were living in Beaufort, South Carolina. My father was a Navy hospital corpsman assigned to the Marine Air Corps Air Station. He had to be on call at the medical dispensary during the storm. His wife kept the home lights burning alone with their two children, a 9 year old son and a 7 year old daughter.

My mother was the type of person who saw the adventure in everything. We never had time to entertain fear; we were having too much fun camping in the hall and playing games. Every so often, mummy would go peek out a small window to view the biggest oak tree in the Whole-Wide-World. Hurricane Gracie’s winds were blowing over 100 miles an hour. She had her eye destined for that big beautiful tree.

7 years old - my birthday in the Living Room before the big hurricane.

My brother and I were almost asleep, when mom gently shook us and whispered, “It's time to go next door.” She calmly handed us our clothes bags and told us to stand with her near the door. All of a sudden the wind stopped, she flung the door open, then firmly said, “Run to Pat’s house!” Wil and I looked at each with a quizzical look because it seemed the storm was over. Mom grabbed my hand and hollered, “It’s just the eye. It’s dangerous! Run fast!”

Pat saw us running and held her door open for us. Her four children were as excited as Wil and I; we now had playmates for the duration of the storm.

Mom and Pat played canasta while they watched that enormous, beautiful tree crash into our living room. The house was inundated with water.

The days following were the kind of days kids dream about. School had just commenced a new year but because the electrical lines were down, we had a two-week holiday. The neighborhood became a block party with community grills fired up every evening. The charcoal-fired pits were overflowing with a lot of good eating before all the food in the freezers defrosted.

That childhood event ignited in me a deep fascination with hurricanes. We experienced our first Florida hurricane during Labor Day weekend 1985. Hurricane Elena parked in the Gulf of Mexico for three days battering our coastline. Living in Florida provides many close encounters with the vast destruction caused by these cyclonic storms. I now balance my childhood excitement with an adult reality of potential disaster.
Photo by Roger - Click to enlarge



Solar panels have changed some of the rules for hurricane preparation. We still fill our gasoline tanks and water bottles, but I no longer have to buy enough ice to last for seven days. I mentioned to a neighbor how I felt a little guilty when I saw her lifting ice out of her trunk. She laughingly assured me we would have lots of company the next time a hurricane robs the community of power. Just like when I was 7 years old, we’ll have lots of playmates!

We are being asked if the solar panels will save us money. At this time the return on our investment will take a while, but we are convinced it is the right thing to do. This planet is a beautiful place to live. It's a good idea to become better stewards of its resources. Little things will add up. Roz Savage recently rowed from San Francisco to Hawaii in a small boat, one oar at a time. She's on her way to Australia. Roz set out to raise awareness of the pollution mankind is causing. I never knew about the Great Pacific Garbage Patch before following her adventure. Now when I go to the grocery store, if I have forgotten my “green bags”, I buy one. Declining the plastic bags offered in the stores is a small step toward caring for the future.

There are other areas in our life where we try to move in a “greener” direction, but there are areas where we haven’t yet. It isn’t a matter of comparing ourselves to what others are doing; it's a matter of trying to do what we think is right when it is in our pathway to do it.

Photos- one by Roger, one by Camilla, one from Roz's site and one taken by mummy.

Roadie Report 40- The "Green Summer" of 2008 by Camilla McGuinn

Photo by Camilla

We’ll always remember the summer of 2008 as the “green summer.” The environment has always been one of our concerns. “The Trees Are All Gone,” written in 1990, was somewhat prophetic about the apathy of the politicians and the blinders they wear concerning the energy needs of our nation, but this blog isn’t about politics.

For the first time in years, we found ourselves settled into our home for the summer. Usually, we purposely arrange to be touring somewhere in the world, in order to miss the seasonal heat of Florida, but this year was different.

Taking time off from touring gives us time to open our imaginations and horizons to things we are normally too busy to contemplate.

“Tech TV” was one of the few cable television channels Roger watched faithfully. It was a highlight for him when he was invited to appear on the Screen Savers broadcast. The only sad part of that day was the host,Leo Laporte, was out of town. The network was bought by one of those monster corporations that destroy good stuff. Sure enough “Tech TV” was sunk, but you can’t keep talented people drowning for long. Kevin Rose and Leo LaPorte branched out. They found new outlets for their talents via podcasts on the Internet. It was on Leo’s show that Roger heard about Roz Savage.

Roz Savage has embarked on the adventure of being the first woman to row solo across the Pacific. Her motivation is to raise awareness of environmental issues. She wants to inspire others to make a difference in their lives for the protection of the earth and its oceans.
Photo by Camilla

Roz has an amazing web page and Roger was fascinated; he immediately studied his habits and made some changes.

We live in a land of sunshine. It is time to harness this powerful gift. Roger has been experimenting with small solar panels for the past year. In the beginning he was using them to recharge our laptop computers and cell phones. He wanted more practical uses, so we brainstormed about what we needed most when the electricity was shut down. In 2004, we experienced three hot days and three dark nights when Hurricane Charlie knocked out the power grid.

During those days and nights, the comforts we missed most were ice and cooled air for sleeping. We couldn’t run our air conditioner or refrigerator with our small panels, but we could power some fans and make ice. Thus we invented “solar ice.”

Portable ice machines were being featured in various catalogues. I asked Roger if the solar panels were powerful enough to run the machines. The wheels began turning. We placed an order on the Internet and within weeks, we were making ice from the power of the sun.

My resident “Mr. Wizard” or “Commander Solar” as he jokingly likes to call himself wasn’t content with just ice and fans. He wanted more solar power. The next brainstorm session came up with the question, “Is there a good electric mobile device that we could use for our local errands?”

The Internet search machine was buzzing. We found a reasonably priced electrical device and placed an order. It arrived by truck and was deposited in a crate on our driveway. Some assembly required. You know what transpires when a husband and wife try to assemble anything as a joint project!

Being a typical guy, Roger proceeded to put it together, while I tried to read the directions which were very roughly translated from a foreign language that seemed to read from right to left and from the end to the beginning. I would manage to decipher an important point just after Roger attached that particular part in the wrong position. Give him a guitar or a computer and he can take it apart with his eyes close. This new world of transportation mechanics was bewildering to him. We groused with each other throughout the whole ordeal, but suddenly we achieved that sweet moment of accomplishment and we had a new set of wheels. The bright red bike that was going to lower our carbon foot print was christened “FRED” – Free Rolling Electrical Deliverer.”

Within a week of getting the “FRED” on the road, a couple of local reporters emailed with the question, “How is Roger spending his summer vacation?” They had reported on our “Solar Ice” experiment and knew Roger usually had some tech related project brewing. I invited them over to meet the “FRED.” They filmed Roger riding the "FRED" for their website. (Be sure to click the blue letters for the film...I only say this for those folks, like me, who don’t know why that word was blue)

Our Orange Tree (photo by Camilla)
Now that “FRED’s” wheels were rolling, Roger wanted to use our beautifully situated roof – southwestern exposure – to raise the solar panels. Dinner conversations concentrated on the problems of a barrel tile roof and how to get flat panels safely secured onto the round tiles. As we discussed all the possibilities, our excitment rose. If we were going to put a few panels on the roof, why not put a lot of them on the roof! It was time to go completely solar with the house!

During our recent home re-model (a water leak in the laundry room wall changed the whole house), I was the one who did the research, buying and hiring. This project was all Roger’s. He searched the Internet until he found Michael Brown’s Solar Ray.

Michael was raised in New Mexico, where he was solar inspired during a sixth grade field trip to the Sandia National Laboratory. He is surprised that the residents of Florida haven’t embraced the power of the sun. He uses Photovoltaic cells made by the Evergreen Solar Company. Michael feels the carbon footprint of the company is right in line with the environment. He and Roger put their heads together, planned a system for our house and then called me in as a courtesy. When they told me the refrigerator would always be running even when the electrical grid was down, I was sold. I did request that the septic pump, dishwasher and washing machine keep chugging too. A childhood spent with the necessity of an outhouse, seeing grandma at the wringer washer and being the one who always did the supper dishes, has always kept me very aware of the modern conveniences that I would miss if I had to step back in time.

The solar cells are ordered, Roger is riding the FRED to the post office daily and I’m smiling at the future!

Photo by Camilla

Roadier Report 39 - Memories of "The Byrds" as told to Camilla McGuinn

The Beginning - Jim McGuinn, David Crosby and Gene Clark

In July 2005, I wrote the first "Roadie Report" for Roger's web page. I wasn't sure I wanted this personal road diary to come under scrutiny of the world, but several different prompts set me to writing. After a few BLOG entries, I received an email from Jim Dickson, the godfather of the BYRDS, asking if I would like to write about some of his memories. I was honored and curious. Many different writers have chronicled the story of the Byrds in detail. I didn't feel I could add much to those details, but sometimes as we travel the world together, Roger will reflect on a memory I haven’t heard.

In May 2006, I began incorporating Jim Dickson's memories into the BLOG. This summer hiatus seemed like a fine time to share some more of the stories I have heard along the way about a magical time in the history of music. I will not be documenting a detailed description of the BYRDS history, just a few of the memories of old friends.

1963

Bob Hippard, Hoyt Axton's road manager, almost didn’t recognize Jim McGuinn as he walked toward him from the airline gate. This 21 year old who had toured two continents, played Carnegie Hall, been on national television, performed with world renowned musical artists, recorded on hit records now looked like a vagabond. His hair was long and combed forward, his big black crumpled raincoat looked huge over his thin frame and his pale skin was a sharp contrast to the warm southern California sun … but there was a glint of expectation in his eyes and in his walk.

Jim’s finances were at an ebb, so Bob drove him to Hoyt Axton’s house. Bob had arranged for Jim to stay at the guesthouse, where Hoyt’s mother, Mae Axton, resided when she was in town. They deposited Jim’s bags and musical instruments in the pool enclave. As they walked back to the car to go search for a bite to eat, Hoyt greeted them in the driveway. This down home Oklahoma boy grabbed Jim’s hand and invited them both into his home for refreshments. After hours of munching and smoking a vast quantity of imported Indian hemp, Bob reminded the musicians they both had a show the following night.

The Troubadour Club in West Hollywood was one of folk music’s hot spots in town. Jim had spent many hours on previous sojourns in Hollywood practicing his craft and meeting other artisans in the front room of the club, The Folk Den. Hoyt had recorded his album, "The Balladeer," in the club and was always a welcomed artist.

Jim was going to open the show, then singer songwriter; Roger Miller would precede Hoyt. Jim was tired when he sat down on the lone stool on stage. He began to quietly sing the Scottish folk song “Wild Mountain Thyme” but he became energized when he incorporated a Beatle beat to the lyrics. He loved it, but the audience didn’t. There was no response when he finished the song. The rest of the 30 minutes dragged on.

Roger Miller was tuning up in the small dressing room, when a very dejected Jim walked in and sat down on the other chair. “Jim, I liked what your doing out there.” Roger smiled at Jim as he shook his head. “ I watched you for awhile and I noticed something.” Roger softly spoke. “You got mad at the audience. They notice when a singer doesn’t like them. You might do a lot better if you didn’t show how upset you are when they don’t appreciate what you’re trying to do.” Roger left the dressing room. Jim could hear the enthusiastic applause greeting Roger Miller. He knew he needed to take the advice he had been given and change his attitude.

The next couple of nights were not any easier for Jim, but his attitude changed. He was ready to work hard with the hope some lone person would understand where he wanted to take his music.

One night, someone did. Gene Clark, a newcomer to town, fresh from the Missouri folk circuit, was in the audience. As soon as Jim was off stage, Gene went to find him. This soft spoken, good looking, dark-haired musician was excited about Jim’s innovative way of combining folk songs to the Beatles’ beat. Jim’s spirits lifted and they both agreed to meet the next day in the Folk Den to write some songs.

The collaboration between Jim and Gene was electric. Gene’s lyrical genius and Jim’s musical knowledge took these two hungry artists to new heights. Their voices blended beautifully as they sang the new songs they penned. When Jim began playing one of the new songs, “You Showed Me,” he felt his guitar move when an almost spiritual energy. He knew something wonderful was happening.

Two days into their song writing adventure, while they were jamming in the Folk Den, a student actor turned folk musician, heard them singing. He walked over and added an incredible harmony. During Jim’s first trip to Los Angeles in 1960 to accompany the Limeliters, he had spent a couple of weeks hanging out with this actor/singer. As the trio’s voices blended with a harmonic brilliance, their eyes flashed at each other with looks of wonder. Something awesome was happening. David Crosby hyperly shouted, "We make beautiful music together!" Jim wasn’t sure he wanted to work with this high-energy songbird. David saw Jim's hesitation and slyly mentioned he had a friend who would let them use his recording studio for free. Jim's qualms were quickly surpressed.

Jim Dickson,Roadie Report 14, was a producer for World Pacific Records. One of his productions, “12 String Guitar” sold several hundred thousand copies, enough to save the label from bankruptcy. World Pacific's owner, Dick Bock, rewarded Dickson with the key to the studio to use for his own purposes whenever there were no paying sessions on the schedule.

Dickson went in search of new talent to record demos in the studio. One night at the Unicorn, L.A.’s first coffeehouse, he heard David Crosby singing and being ignored by the audience. He was struck by the quality of David’s voice. Dickson's first recordings with David were with studio musicians. It was a standard practice to use the pros when recording. Jim had recently finished recording sessions with Dino Valente in a rock and roll format and decided to record David in a like manner.

Unfortunately, the tapes embarrassed David because folk music was the genre of the moment. Dickson wasn’t able to secure a recording deal for David, so he suggested he should switch from lead singer to a harmony singer. David had been in Lex Baxter’s Balladeers and resisted the direction. In the meantime, David kept a suitcase in Dickson’s garage and slept on different people's couches.

One day David arrived at the World Pacific studios high with excitement. He had found two guys he wanted to sing harmony with and if Dickson would get involved he was sure they would let him.

Dickson was familiar with Jim McGuinn, but had never heard of Gene Clark. David told Dickson he would only be a singer because both of the guys were much better guitar players than he was. David’s method of guitar playing was of the school of Travis Emundson - just learn the chords when you need them for the song you want to sing.

It was late at night, when David brought Jim and Gene to the World Pacific studio. Dickson asked them to sing a few songs. He felt their vocal sound was worth his time, since vocal blend was the most difficult achievement for a group. Their pseudo English accents did cause him to wonder about their motivation
.
Jim and David begged Dickson to go with them to a movie they had seen, “A Hard Days Night.” He finally understood the accents. The lads were excited about the movie.

On the sidewalk outside the theater, while McGuinn was busy explaining to Dickson his realization that most of the Beatles’ songs were based on folk chords, David was swinging around a lamp pole like Gene Kelly and yelling, "I want to be a Beatle!" McGuinn was also excited about George Harrison’s guitar. When he first heard the sound, he was sure it was a 12-string guitar, but in the movie it only looked like a 6-string from the front. Then, George turned sideways and Jim could see it was a Rickenbacker electric 12-string guitar! This veteran 12-string player had to have one of those magical instruments at any cost.

A few days later, David and Roger were standing on Hollywood Boulevard talking about how to become a band like the Beatles. David felt he could play bass, but they needed to find a drummer. They felt it was important for everyone to look English. As they were talking, a guy came strutting down the street who looked just like two of the Rolling Stones rolled into one package. They both pointed and said "him!"

It was an 18-year-old who was calling himself Michael Clarke. Roger had seen him in San Francisco playing bongos and they asked Michael if he could play drums. “Sure," he half-heartedly answered. They took him to the studio. Configured some cardboard boxes as drums and set a tambourine up for the snare drum. Michael sat down with a pair of sticks and began practicing.

David quickly realized he couldn’t concentrate on harmony while playing the bass. He asked Dickson to get another player. Dickson had recorded with an accomplished mandolin player named Chris Hillman. He first encountered Chris with the Bluegrass group, Scottsville Squirrel Barkers, then the Golden State Boys with Vern Gosdin. Their latest Dickson recording at World Pacific was the album, which became “The Hillmen” featuring Vern and Rex Gosdin, Don Parmley, and Chris.

Dickson felt Chris’s musicianship and the way he supported vocals would make him a good candidate to learn to play the bass, so he invited Chris to a rehearsal.

Dickson wasn’t planning on recording with the bass and drums, but did want them for live performances. He formed a business partnership with the original three musicians. He quickly realized in order for the partnership to survive, he would have to feed the lads who had no money or jobs. “Guess I have to feed you now,” was the line Dickson used when he felt the late night session was over. Hamburgers were the reward for a good night’s work.

The group was making progress. Dickson used his own money to bring in some studio musicians to play on two songs: “Please let Me Love You” and “Don’t Be Long.” He sold the songs to Elektra Records and told Jack Holzman to choose a name, but don't identify the members. He chose the name “Beefeaters.” Maybe it was the “British Invasion” or a gin bottle on the desk inspiring the moniker.

The group’s ability to perform live was still in question. They booked a show at the Troubadour. David played without an instrument and the result was an awkward singer slinking around the stage in the style of a chubby Mick Jagger. The audience was not impressed. David quickly grasped he wasn't going to be the next rock screamer and he needed the protection of a guitar. He joined McGuinn in lamenting about Gene's tempo changes. Gene felt songs were more dramatic if they were sung in a slower tempo. This habit drove the perfectionist musician, McGuinn, to distraction. Bobby Darin had impress upon Jim the importance of timing and to hear a song drag out of tempo was tough for him. The timing issue was the point David chose as a tool to undermine Gene's confidence as a guitar player. David had to quickly learn all the chords to the songs and Gene grabbed a tambourine as a prop. It was the beginning of the major rifts which often plagued the band: personalities, perfection and politics.

By then Dickson felt there was a future for the group and brought Eddie Tickner into the partnership to handle the business end. They needed money for instruments and the lads wanted to have suits like the Beatles. Eddie found a very wise investor with an available $5000 whose heirs still collect 5% of the initial royalties to this day.

Dickson drove McGuinn, Clarke and Crosby to the music store. Jim carried his Pete Seeger model 5-string banjo and Gibson acoustic 12-string guitar, a gift from Bobby Darin. He wanted a Rickenbacker 12-string and was willing to trade in both of his instruments to get one.

After the instrument purchases, Dickson dropped Jim off at the Padre hotel. Mae Axton had come to town, so Bob Hippard found Jim a room at the Padre Hotel for $4.00 a night. The moonbeams danced around the room as Jim played the guitar until he fell asleep, propped up against the pillow of the bed holding his new prize possession.

To be continued...someday.

Roadie Report 38 - Astronauts Hall of Fame and the Discovery Spaceship Launch Pad - by Camilla McGuinn

The Discovery on the launch pad. (Photo by Camilla)


It’s Saturday, May 31, 2008; 4 hours 36 minutes and 42 seconds until the Space Shuttle Discovery blast off for its 14-day mission. We have always been excited about all the Space Shuttle launches, but this time we felt personally attached to the Discovery.

Our attachment to Discovery began on March 13. I received an email from Linn LeBlanc, Executive Director of the Astronauts Scholarship Foundation, asking if we were going to attend the Astronauts Hall of Fame (AHOF) induction Gala on May 2, being held at the Kennedy Space Center. Her next question, “Would Roger like to play a set of three songs to conclude the gala?”

After a flurry of emails and telephone calls, Roger's performance was confirmed, but with an added bonus. Two former astronauts who were two of the founders of the astronauts’ band, Max Q, were going to join him. Robert “Hoot” Gibson and Brewster Shaw were going to bring their guitars and soaring harmonies to entertain the spacemen.

The rehearsal for the three songs, “Mr. Tambourine Man,” Mr. Spaceman" and "Turn, Turn, Turn" was scheduled for Thursday, May 1. Unfortunately, Brewster had a business commitment and couldn’t make it for the Gala, so it was just Hoot, who joined us in our hotel room to fine tune the music. He had been practicing at home and we were wonderfully surprised at how well his talent blended with Roger’s.


In the evening, dinner was served for all the astronauts, scholarship winners and their families in a very casual setting in the hotel. It was the beginning of a reunion of friends who had a very unique bond. It was also Mercury Astronaut Scott Carpenter’s birthday.


Friday was a busy day. More astronauts were arriving and meeting with the press. A VIP reception was held at the AHOF before the gala dinner at the ASVC (Apollo/Saturn V Center.) We donned our fanciest clothes and boarded the bus with the astronauts. Half way through the reception, Hoot, Roger and I were driven to the ASVC for sound check. This unique hall had been transformed into an elegant dinner venue. It wasn’t the first time we have had dinner under the Saturn V rocket, but we still looked up in awe at the massive machine.

At 7 pm, the attending astronauts and their wives were individually introduced as they walked the red carpet to their tables. Each astronaut joined a different circular table to have dinner with the people who had bought tickets. I enjoyed watching the look of excitement on the dinner guest's faces as their own astronaut approached their table.

William Parsons , Director of NASA’s Kennedy Space Center in Florida, was sitting to my left. His stories were fascinating but one theme became prominent in our conversation. This ex-marine was quick to inform me which astronauts were former Marines as they walked the red carpet. I realized that being the daughter of a career Navy man; it was my responsibility to point out to him that the marines were a branch of the Navy! This humorous banter with Bill continued all evening.

I have written in a previous BLOG about the AHOF and the reasons for this event. Yes, it is to honor these amazingly brave pioneers, but it is also to encourage students to excel in the fields of math and science. Each year, the AHOF awards scholarships to students based only on scholastic achievement in the sciences. That evening, the scholars who were able to attend - one even skipped his college graduation - were presented to the audience. Then the four astronauts who were being inducted into the AHOF were introduced: Loren J. Shriver, Bryan D.O’Connor, Robert D. Cabana, and John E. Blaha .





After an Omega watch raffle, to add to the scholarship fund coffers, McGuinn and Gibson took the stage. Roger told me it was such a hoot to be playing with an astronaut, for a room full of astronauts under a Saturn V rocket. He could see their faces and they were all smiling and singing along.




The next day held one of the biggest adventures of our lives. At noon we boarded the bus again with the astronauts and found ourselves transported to launch pad 39A where the Discovery Space Shuttle was docked and being prepared for the May 31 launch. No one had told us where we were going and once the destination announcement was made, the atmosphere on the bus became electric. Everyone, including the astronauts, was jumping with excitment. For the astronauts it was going home again, for us it was an unbelievable opportunity to be very close to a piece of history where only a few have traveled.
Hoot Gibson, Roger and Al Worden in the shadow of Discovery's wing.


The smiles on the faces of this group of astronauts, their wives and one star-gazing musician, as they scurried up and down the stairs of the launch pad, were as big as the 347-foot structure. I kept saying, “We’re like a bunch of monkeys climbing all over this thing!” When we stood in front of the shuttle door, a workman asked," Who are these people?" I laughingly replied, "Astronauts. Don't you recognize me?" The men who had flown into space surrounded us and they were all full of information. Walking encyclopedias, walking history.



To top it all off, we got to stand next to the door that the Discovery Astronauts would enter for the STS-124 mission scheduled for May 31, 2008. I'm listening to that mission countdown on NASA TV as I'm writing this.

After being so close to the Discovery Shuttle to almost touch it - but it was too awesome to even put my hand in that direction - a bus took us to the ASVC for the Hall of Fame induction ceremony. It is a casual affair. An astronaut member of the AHOF reverently introduces an inductee and then proceeds to tell funny stories about the inductee's space antics. They honor and roast the new members at the same time, much to the delight of the audience.

If you ever plan a trip to the Kennedy Space Center, schedule it for the first weekend in May for this historical ceremony.

A final reception to toast the inductees was scheduled after the ceremony. But before this guild of space travelers dispersed, there was one last gathering - a private dinner for this family of astronauts and then the last moments in the private hospitality suite. This is where the jackets came off and the guitars came out.

Roger not only brought his guitar to the suite, but his “one laptop per child” computer. This little computer was designed to provide children around the world with new vistas. When the program first began, we were given an opportunity to buy one for a child and to buy one for ourselves.

Roger laid the computer on a table, picked up his guitar and watched as the astronaut who repaired the Hubble Space Telescope tried to open the computer. He carefully studied it, then opened the battery compartment. Roger began laughing and I jumped in to offer assistance. Even though I had used the computer, I realized I didn’t know how to open it either. Roger came to our rescue. I incredulously asked, “How do they expect children in third world countries to open it?” Roger smiled like an all knowing professor and assured me they had teachers schooled in instruction.

It was a good thing we had the OLPC computer. Everyone was in a singing mood. A familiar song was requested but we realized we didn't know all of the lyrics. The melody is so sweet we wanted to keep singing it, so Roger opened the computer and googled the words. We ended the night with the spacemen huddled around a laptop built to enlighten the world’s children, singing, “Amazing Grace.”


Singing Spacemen-Hoot Gibson, Jeffrey Hoffman, Roger and Charlie Duke


The next morning, Astronaut Al Worden, chairman of The Astronaut Scholarship Foundation, shook Roger’s hand goodbye and said, “See you next year.”

2 hours, 17 minutes and 42 seconds to blast off!



All photos by Camilla McGuinn

email the roadie at mcguinnroadiereport@gmail.com

Raodie Report 37 - 30 Years, Kaukonen, Mansfield, Martin and Springsteen! - by Camilla McGuinn

A Foggy NYC Day (photo by Camilla)


Thirty years have passed and we have hardly noticed. Our life together has been filled with love, some hot water, some cold water, a wee bit of tepid water and a whole bunch of adventures. We were packing again for another adventure. Another opportunity to share music and stories. In between concerts we were going to celebrate our 30th anniversary of togetherness.



We stopped in at Jorma Kaukonen’s “Fur Peace Ranch.” Jorma and his wife, Vanessa, founded the ranch in 1988 as a school of guitar and music. They also built an intimate concert venue at this outpost located in the rolling hills of Ohio. It was the second time that Roger has been invited to play for a very enthusiastic sold out audience. It was at this concert, where Roger began telling the story of “Gene Tryp” again – with a few modifications.

With a few days off before the IMAC Theater concert in Huntington, NY, we decided to spend our anniversary at Minetta’s Tavern in Greenwich Village. Our plan was to enjoy a quiet lunch at Minetta’s, then spend the evening toasting the Empire State Building from the view of our hotel suite on the Hudson River.


The Italian lunch was exactly what we had envisioned. As we were saying good bye to our usual waiter, he told us that Minetta’s was closing! It had been sold and even though the new owner says he isn’t changing the décor, there will be some remodeling and a major menu change. Roger’s favorite Italian restaurant in the Village, the one he frequented in the 60s, was about to become French!



We reluctantly left the restaurant, took a picture and slowly walked down Minetta Lane. I looked up and my mouth dropped open. On the marquis of the Minetta Lane Theater was the name of the play I performed in at Longwood College in 1969 – The Adding Machine. We decided right then, to call Roger’s son Patrick and invite him to join us for one last (Italian) meal at Minetta’s and to attend this musical adaptation of Elmer Rice’s projection of the future.

On April 5th, Roger received an email from David Mansfield. The two of them met on “The Rolling Thunder Revue.” David was 18 then and a musical prodigy. Since there was a concert close to his house, he wanted to see Roger and catch up on old times. Roger asked him to bring his instruments and to come early for sound check.


David arrived with a violin and two guitars. He saw the banjo sitting on stage; he said he didn’t play that instrument. Roger handed it to him, “Here, try it.” His untrained banjo hands began picking like a pro. Some people are just born to make music. The evening was enchanting. That night, Roger played with the musician we want to engage to help with the “Chestnut Christmas” CD we will be recording this summer.


The Martin Guitar factory is on the way to Vienna, Virginia from New Jersey. Roger always seizes the opportunity to go there to smell the wonderful aroma of hand made guitars being lovingly crafted. It was also a very good time to pick up some guitar strings and to show Dick Boak, Roger's new tuning of the 12-string. I picked up two denim chef's aprons with the Martin logo … interesting. Well I got one for Roger too! I’m not going to be in the kitchen by myself!






We finished the concerts at the Barns in Vienna and the Maltz Theater in Jupiter, FL then headed home for a few days. Our bags were still waiting to be unpacked when we received an email from Steven Van Zandt’s assistant, Nicole, with an invitation to attend Bruce Springsteen’s concert that night. Our schedule had been so full,we did not even realize he was in town. We replied quickly. Within the hour, the telephone rang. It was Steven.

Bruce wanted to know if Roger would join him and the E Street Band on stage for a song. The Springsteen machine dispatched a car to pick us up in time for sound check.











Steven and Nicole met us at the back stage entrance and immediately escorted us to the stage. Max Weinberg was already on stage and greeted us both with a big hug. Max and his wife Becky had been to our house years ago for dinner.

My camera was tucked in my bag. I understand the importance of not taking pictures without permission but my familiarity with Max gave me the courage to ask if I could get a picture of him and Roger. My hands were shaking. The photo with Max was the only one I the courage to take all night.

We were talking to Max on stage when Bruce walked up and shook Roger's hand. My mind went tripping. I was standing on the stage where Bruce Springsteen was going to perform and he had just talked to me. It is moments like these when I hope I don’t have a really silly expression on my face. We had talked to Bruce years ago at Tom Petty’s house, but standing on his stage with him was mind blowing.

I left the stage and walked out into the arena to listen to the sound check. Looking around I noticed that there was not a soul around except for the required personnel. It was a closed sound check. I sat down on the steps leading to the seats and listened to the opening notes of “Turn, Turn, Turn” sweetly sounding from the incredible speakers. The E Street Band played it like it was in their daily repertoire.

Roger sang a verse, then Bruce sang a verse.

When Bruce was satisfied with the performance, he requested another song, “Mr. Tambourine Man.” Roger sang the Byrds' version. When he finished Bruce asked, “Is that all? I thought there were more words.” Roger told him there were a lot more words; in fact he has been singing all the verses in his recent concerts, so he knew every one of them. They decided on the verses they wanted to sing for the audience. I saw Roger waving his hand as he talked about the verse with the line “one hand waving free”

Bruce Springsteen is "The" amazing performer. His energy and love for the music carries not only him but also his band and audience to heights very seldom seen. After the concert, as we were saying goodbye to Clearance Clemens, Bruce walked up. His eyes were shining and his energy was still soaring. He was a man happy about his day’s work.

COMING SOON!



The pic of Roger & Camilla taken by the camera remote control.
All other photos by Camilla.

email the roadie at mcguinnroadiereport@gmail.com