A Gentle Soul and Cool TOO! by Camilla McGuinn

  

In 2002, PEOPLE magazine’s photo editor told me she wanted to send a special photographer to Orlando to photograph Roger for their article “Rock of Aging.”  John Chiasson and his assistant were on a plane from Nashville within the week.

As I invited John into the threshold of our front door, I quietly told him the one of Roger’s least favorite things to do is to sit for a photo session. John whispered to me with the most engaging smile, “I’ll be gentle.”

John was not only gentle, he was brilliant. PEOPLE magazine liked John’s photo of Roger so much that they used it for almost a full page. I called John and asked him if I could buy it from him for Roger’s publicity portfolio. His reply, “When the restrictions are expired with PEOPLE magazine, you can have it.” 

  

Three months later the photo was appearing in local newspapers around the world.

John was not only a gentle soul, he was cool! His style was a cross between a debonair 20’s actor to a laid back 60’s hippie. 

When THE FOLK DEN PROJECT was ready for pressing, we knew John was the man we wanted to shoot the cover.

His price to us,”Nothing, just pay my assistant.” John and Maureen even housed and fed us.

Roger had jammed with John on the first photo session. A guitar seemed like the perfect thank you gift to take to him. During breaks from flash bulbs and while Maureen was preparing a gourmet meal, the two friends sang and played the songs of the sixties. 

I have written about John and Maureen before, but this time I’m writing our goodbye to John. He silently left this realm while sitting in his studio on August 17, 2013. His dear wife found him and thought he was asleep. His heart had stopped and when we heard about it, our hearts momentarily stopped too.

We will miss John Chiasson - photographer extraordinaire, coolest cat in town, good friend and most of all ... the precious  husband of the lovely Maureen.

Roadie Report 63 by Camilla McGuinn

Photo by Camilla

Rain tapping on the window of our hotel room in Beckley West Virginia encouraged us to pull the covers up, reach for the telephone and extend our stay for one more day.  It is a good time to catch up on paper work and to mentally float out the window with memories of our adventures.

A song keeps drifting in and out of my head. It’s “Sophie’s Song.” Dave Barry wrote it for his daughter’s Bat Mitzvah and asked Roger to help him record it when we were in Los Angeles for the last concert of the “Rock Bottom Remainders.” 

Kathi Goldmark, the founder of the Remainders, was putting up a good fight in a battle with cancer and we were all hoping she would make it to the concert, but we were all greatly disappointed.  The concert had been booked so there would be one last re-union of a ragtag group of millionaire writers, with one ringer from the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. It was a group Kathi had orchestrated because she loved making music and knew that everyone wanted to be a rock ’n’ roll star.

At the hotel in Los Angeles, we had a hospitality suite for the band. Most of the time it was filled with the writers autographing books to be sold at the concerts for charity and for a wild party after every show. The writers were never concerned about getting enough sleep. One morning in that room, Roger fastened a microphone to a floor lamp with gaffer’s tape, plugged in his computer and told Dave to sing, Ridley to harmonize, Sam to play harmonica, James to blow his saxophone and me to keep the room quiet. “Sophie’s Song” was created on the multi-track recording program, ProTools.

We took the recording to San Francisco where Roger and I spent the night mixing the parts. It was the most fun we’ve ever had at the Ritz Carlton…well almost. Dave has given permission for you to hear the song. Click HERE .

The days of our lives are spinning so quickly.  On November 18, 2012 we drove across country for a concert with the consummate singer, Miss Judy Collins. Being in her presence is always so awe inspiring. She has the energy of all the American Idol contestants put together and a talent that none of them can surpass.

Photo by Camilla

In December, lectures on the Queen Elizabeth took us to the Mediterranean. The 5 o’clock afternoon gatherings of laughter at the Commodore Lounge with new friends Anthony, Stephanie, Gordon and Jonathon caused a twitter among the crew. But the biggest twitter came on New Year’s Eve, when  Gordon taught me the Scottish dance, “The Gay Gordons.” As usual with all my dance lessons since I was four years old, I promptly forgot the steps, but this time someone was filming.

Crossing the Atlantic on a beautiful cruise ship is a voyage to be savored. We stayed on the Queen Elizabeth until the ship docked in Miami, but the farewell was short, because we boarded her again in Los Angeles for Roger to give three more lectures on the way to Auckland, New Zealand.

Arriving home in February was a double edged sword.  Coming home is wonderful, washing dishes is not. That darn sword never gets clean! Fortunately as with every year something always entices us out on the road again…Praise God! Trips to South Florida, New York, New Jersey and a wonderful trek to Indio, California for the Stagecoach Festival kept our motor running.  “Stagecoach” is the first festival Roger has performed in years. His theory about outdoor venues is that the energy dissipates. He compares it to a firecracker. As long as it is encased in a tight tube there will be a loud bang, but if you empty the gun powder on the ground it quickly fizzles out. The Stagecoach Festival has a great reputation, so we packed the van and hit the interstate.
Route 40, “America’s main street”, is our favorite and once we connected to it, we had a direct path from the concert at Monmouth University in New Jersey to California. The day after the Stagecoach appearance, we headed to Carrboro North Carolina for a concert near the college town of Chapel Hill.  5084 miles for one show…now that is an adventure and no dishes to wash for many miles.

At my lemonade stand, one friend mentioned to me that we lived like royalty. I giggled wondering what members of a royal family drove a Ford Van with 180,000 miles on the odometer,  stayed at Hampton Inns, Marriott Courtyards and carried their cooler with them. But as I think about how much fun we have traveling, my hope is that royalty lives life with all the joy we do.

Our current tour has taken us to Montreal, Canada and Virginia. We’ve only had to replace four tires, the front brakes including rotors and calipers, on the way. When the unmistakable smell of smoking brakes caused us to question if the problem was ours, a parking lot was immediately to our right. We pulled in, looked up at the marquis and noticed it was a brake repair shop. How can man understand his own way? 

After a sold out concert in Glen Allen, VA, we stopped at Thomas Jefferson’ home, Monticello, in Charlottesville, VA. The next day we explored “The Bunker” at the Greenbrier Resort in White Sulpher Springs, W.VA . Those historical places were intriguing but to have it all topped off with the beautiful drive through the mountains did make me feel like royalty.

We’re on our way to Ohio for Peter Frampton’s Guitar Circus. Roger recorded one of Peter’s songs on his  ”Thunderbyrd” album and Peter asked him to join him for a reunion.  A nice bonus on our way to Cleveland is to stop in Columbus and celebrate Linda’s birthday.

Linda stood at the door of our tour bus in Columbus Ohio in 1991. She kept talking to the bus driver insisting that she needed to speak to Roger’s road manager.  I was real tired that night and didn’t feel particularly friendly, but she was so persistent in a gentle way that Tony, our bus driver, begged me to speak with her. I reluctantly walked to the bus door. She sweetly asked me if my husband would play for her husband’s 40^th birthday. I smiled and said rather flippantly, “I’ve seen enough of Judge Wapner on TV to know better than to play for private parties.” She was so gentle and persistent, that in order to get her to go away I gave her Roger’s agent’s card and told her to call the agent.

The next morning, I telephoned Roger's agent and told her to expect a call from a very nice lady who would be calling about a birthday party. I gave Elizabeth, the agent,  a price to quote and said there would be no negotiation. I was sure the price was high enough that the birthday request would go away. Roger’s agent loved that command and was ready to play. Well there was no play. My cleverness was for naught. They sent a Lear Jet to pick us up.

Over the years Linda and Bill have become very close and special friends. Roger has played at all their landmark birthday parties, their Y2K bash  and their children’s weddings. The price has never been  negotiable – but now it is even higher than the first birthday concert – it is love. 

Happy Birthday Linda!

Beware of Over Priced Concert Tickets

Heads up everyone. If you want tickets to Roger's concerts, it is wise to call the box office of the venue for the real price of the tickets. There are several websites that are selling tickets for hundreds of dollars. In the old days, we called them scalpers. Don't be fooled, they might not even have the tickets but are just waiting to buy them from the venue box office when someone places an order. There are some legitimate ticket sellers that will charge a fee, but try buying them from the venue first.

Roadie Report 62 - Argentina & Creeque Alley

December 7th is a memorial day in our country’s history. In 2011, that date stamped in our passports will remind us of a wonderful trip to Argentina.

The song, “Don’t Cry for Me Argentina,” whistled through my mind during the airplane boarding process for the nine hour flight to Buenos Aires. A scheduled concert at the Coliseo Theater in “The Paris of South America” was bringing us to our next adventure.

Fernando and Jorge guided us from the airport terminal to the cars waiting for us in the bright South American summer morning. My sleepy eyes were drinking in the scenery during the drive into Buenos Aires to The Sofitel hotel. The palatial architecture gracing the wide boulevards reflects a strong European influence. The city streets are like so many we navigate throughout various continents. The amazing similarity of our world’s cities is very evident in city traffic.

Our early arrival, a week before the concert, provided the opportunity for Roger to talk to reporters, visit radio studios and perform on local TV shows. It was exciting to be living in this vibrant city for a week.

Fernando and Jorge wanted us to experience the excitement of their city. We ate at gourmet restaurants, visited the amazing Opera House and listened to a famous Tango singer. We always thought “Tango” was just a dance, but the lyrics are as passionate as the dance.

Saturday, December 10th, Christina Fernandez, the first female elected president for two terms, was being inaugurated. Friday night, I told Fernando and Jorge that I have never been in Washington DC for an inauguration. I didn’t want to miss this opportunity to take part in their inaugural festivities with the people on the streets. They looked alarmed. I noticed their dismay. I quickly told them, “Oh its okay. You don’t have to take us. We’ll just catch a bus.” They quickly told us what time they would pick us up for the inauguration

Inauguration morning, they didn’t want to drive to the “pink palace” because they were sure the streets would be packed with celebrating folks, but a common occurrence kept the streets almost empty…the bus drivers went on strike. Traffic in Buenos Aires can be backed up for hours when the many “worker strikes” take place. That was the biggest complaint we heard about this beautiful city.

We walked the near empty streets, listened to the bands playing but never saw Christina come out to the porch where the beautiful Eva Peron stood wooing the masses..

The heat of the day moved us to the famous Café Tortoni for a refreshing respite with a very entertaining waiter.

On Sunday, we enjoyed a family cook out at Fernando’s house. Charlie Garcia, an Argentine rock pioneer, joined Roger serenading the guests in an impromptu sing along. Roger asked Charlie to join him on the Colisieo stage to perform songs from “The Sweetheart of the Rodeo.”

The Colisieo theater is beautiful. The audience was overwhelming and joyful. “The Paris of South America” is vibrant with art, music, dance and wonderful food. Parting a lovely city and new friends is always a sweet sorrow. While waiting to board the plane to take us home, a lady approached Roger and thanked him for the wonderful concert. She and her husband detoured to Buenos Aires when they heard Roger was performing. Music does make the world smaller.

The airplane touched down in Miami on December 15th. Driving back to Orlando, we reminisced about the fullness of our South American experience and made plans for our next adventure. Friday was the only day for unpacking and packing before boarding Amtrak’s Silver Meteor bound for New York City.

Winter suddenly blanketed New York by the time the train pulled into Penn Station. Patrick, Roger’s son, arrived at our hotel for an early dinner. I wanted to join the festive Christmas shopping crowds, but the next destination, a Caribbean voyage, didn’t prepare Roger for winter weather. Patrick became my “Knight in Shining Armor.” He maneuvered me through the brightly lit crowded sidewalks. We saw a couple become engaged on the cold ice rink of Lincoln Center, smelled the roasting chestnuts, stared into all the store windows filled with Christmas decorations and froze our noses off. I couldn’t wait to feel the warm breezes swirling around the islands.

Celebrating Christmas and New Year’s Eve on the aqua Caribbean waters was too good an offer to refuse. Tim booked Roger for two lectures and one Q&A for the 2011 Holiday Voyage on board Cunard’s regal Queen Mary.

The itinerary included St. Thomas, the home of "Creeque Alley." In 1963, John and Michele Phillips were fellow residents with Jim (Roger) McGuinn in the musician’s hotel in Greenwich Village, The Earl Hotel. Jim had met the duo years earlier in San Francisco. John was singing with the “Journeymen” while Jim was working with the “Chad Mitchell Trio.”

Jim would often go down to their suite to share songs, food and other forms of entertainment prevalent in the sixties. John and Michele were not impressed with Jim’s renditions of “folk music with a Beatle beat.” They were “folk purists.” History proves they changed their minds.

While penning the song “Creeque Alley,” John mentions two friends who had number one songs on the music charts. “McGuinn and McGuire just a-getting’ higher in LA, You know where that’s at.” Jim McGuinn was soaring with the BYRDS and Barry McGuire was singing “Eve of Destruction.”

The Queen Mary docked in St Thomas. We walked the few miles into town to search for the infamous alley where the Mamas and Papas formed their sound. It wasn’t an easy find. The town had changed. We walked in circles, asked local folks and no one knew the answer to our questions. All of a sudden, we found ourselves in a small alley. We felt we were close to our destination. Suddenly, our eyes spotted a historical plaque on the wall.

It confirmed our suspicion! The alley had changed names, but we were in the right place. We found Creque’s Alley!

The spelling of "Creeque Alley" is different on the historical plaque than the way John spelled the name. Maybe someone had fuzzy vision or a short memory? No telling who spelled it correctly. Anyone out there in St. Thomas in the 60s who might remember how the alley was spelled then?