CAPTAIN SUNSHINE -Rudy Luehs
I was in school on a football scholarship at San Jose State and possible NFL prospect who gave up the opportunity to incur multiple broken bones, crushed muscles, and concussive head traumas to live a life of musicality, thanks to the opportunity provided by one O.B. Jetty, Steve Brown. I had the fortune of growing up on the same block as Steve, so my earliest recollections were of the older kid who lived up the street. We grew up simultaneously with a life centered around mischief at Aptos Jr. High School Playground. I guess we developed a strange sense of humor from growing up in S.F. and listening to AM radio DJ's like Russ "the Moose" Syracuse and Don Sherwood. The comedy of Laurel & Hardy, the Marx Bros., Abbot & Costello, Little Rascal's and W.C. Fields also comes to mind. My parents paid for two years of piano lessons when I was seven. They had tried violin earlier, I had two uncles who were professional violinist. The piano lessons stuck and at 13 I was playing songs by ear off the radio. Sleepwalk was first and any thing by Jerry Lee Lewis, Beatles, & Stones were roots. We used to do sing a longs in Steve's basement on his family upright, with me banging away. Steve and I, along with our friend Bob Marble (rip) performed a few songs at Bob's high school senior show in '65. Steve got me interested in radio when he started working for Don Sherwood (still--The Worlds Greatest Disc Jockey) at KSFO. I once witnessed from the engineering booth, the absolute hilarity of interplay between Sherwood and his genius engineer Charlie Smith who, like Froggy the Gremlin of Andy's Gang, always inserted weird sound effects and noises Sherwood had to react to. While Sherwood would go through his routine Stu was on the other side of the glass racing through his collection of tapes and records getting his next zinger ready to lay on Sherwood. All Sherwood would have to do is talk, Charlie played the records and ran tape advertisements. They had lots of fun. Through Steve I also got work a few weekends at the Chris Borden School of Radio and familiarize myself with the radio station equipment. Nick Schram (Ben T. Phens) was also at our high school, but I didn't know him then. He and Steve met while in the Navy Reserve together. Nick's outlook on life and sense of humor matched ours, except his mind was always a bit more refreshingly and excitedly "out there." We three became best buddies. We'd go to Golden Gate Park and the Haight causing minor havoc. Those days Nick was a great flopper, having his wife Marguerite pretend to flip him on his back, landing on the iron doors to subbasements (common on the streets) with a loud bang. I was a jock in high school and was All City in both football and baseball. I played football against OJ & Al in my senior year. Mike Holmgren (Super Bowl winning coach) was my high school QB who threw me passes that got me noticed by college scouts. I was drafted by the New York Mets in the first major league draft but didn't dare sign. In '65 young man without a deferment was drafted by the Army right away. I liked baseball better than football, but wasn't offered a baseball scholarship anywhere. My best offer for a scholarship out of high school was at the Naval Academy Prep School trying to get an appointment to Annapolis. I flunked out after 9 months, which turned out to NOT be a bad thing, and was honorably discharged and given a deferment during those Viet Nam War days. I then accepted a football scholarship to San Jose State. I had offer's from Colorado State, Washington State, and Pacific too. Prior to arriving in San Diego, I'd seen, with Steve, the first U.S. Beatles concert Aug. '64 at the Cow Palace, and their last live gig at Candlestick Park, Aug. '66. I was a Beatles fan all the way. I saw the Rolling Stones May '65 at Civic Center Auditorium on their first tour, and their farce at Altamont. I really liked The Stones and the raw rock and blues they played. They dressed like regular guys, no matching suits. I started listening to the blues artist they covered. I'd been to Fillmore, Avalon, Carousel Ballroom (Fillmore West), and Winterland often and thought I was hip to what the music scene in S.F. was. I'd seen all the S.F. groups, The Airplane, The Dead, Quicksilver, Big Brother, Moby Grape, Steve Miller, and Country Joe. And there was the visitor's....The Who, Paul Butterfield, Taj Majal, Steve Winwood/Traffic, the Yardbirds (with Jimmy Page), Mother's of Invention, the Young Rascals (one of the best live groups ever!), B.B. King and Jimi Hendrix. It was routine to spend Friday or Saturday nights sitting on your butt on the floor, getting high, and grooving to the bands. San Diego didn't have a venue or scene like those then. In the 60's San Francisco was starting and leading the progressive revolution of America at the time. It was a great time to be growing up there. Beatniks, UC Berkeley protests and free speech, Black Panthers/black pride, and LGBT. The Haight/Ashbury hippies, Golden Gate Park drum jams, and multi-band music festival's were happening. Haight/Ashbury Medical Clinic was first to say "health insurance is a right, not a privilege." The times, and me too, were a changing.
First Intro to San Diego That summer of '66 between NAPS and SJS, Steve was managing a band called Friendly Stranger and I started hanging out with them. I traveled to San Diego that summer with them for their gig at the Palace. Along the way in L.A. I was turned on to pot for the first time by the drummer of the band Robert Williams. We met the guys who became Iron Butterfly and turned on with a few of them for the first time too. Robert was probably the guy who gave them the idea for their name...something both hard and soft. San Jose State Days I was a frat boy and football player at SJS while Steve was in the Navy in S.D. My frat brothers included Steve Silver of Beach Blanket Babylon (longest and still running production in S.F. history) and Al Saunders (NFL offensive genius, who many years later at a reunion, said I could have played in the NFL). At SJS I was the stoner footballer (not the only one on the team) and even scored a touchdown once! I led frat party sing a longs on the house grand piano. "Louie Louie" and "Gloria" were drunkenly sung with vulgar lyrics produced by some of the other guys, and Beatles and Stones tunes. I was roommates with a (like minded) guy Larry Steudle (rip) who said he had played bass for the Surfari's (he did play bass but I've found no internet information proving he did with the Surfari's). We ended up turning on about 1/2 the house membership. I'd go home on weekends to attend concerts. Harry Edwards was forming the Black Students Union with Tommy Smith and Lee Evans during my time there. We were reading the Maharishi and Yogananda. The police had tear gassed a student protest meeting on campus. Nick came down a few times to visit and blew away many minds. For instance....while driving around on neighborhood streets, he'd open the door and got out of the car leaving it driverless, running along side. All being high...it was funny.erless, running along side. All being high… it was funny. Welcome to San Diego! WSteve then gave me the opportunity to be a DJ. I said yes to his offer to come down and play radio. What started out as what I thought would be a fun summer job changed my mind about continuing with football. I can still recall the coach calling me at the station trying to convince me to come back. My life as a gladiator was done. I started with the 24 hour format change at the Medical Building. I lived at the station when I first came down. Going to the roof to get high and watch the jets circle in for landings was cool. I did 4-8 AM when I started, a few times in my underwear, but got moved to the Midnight to 6 slot. I lived for a while on Brighton with Steve before he left, when the house was raided while Huey Lewis was visiting there (the pot was in the cereal box!). Me and Peter were apartment roommates for a bit. When Nick came down I resided with him and his wife Marguerite at the house on 7th until the ending. Steve went off to fight the war, we said he '"got his rocks in the ocean" (OB Jetty?) instead of saying he was in the Navy. My memories are filled with wild mischievous behavior patterns with Nick. We'd drive around stoned in his Morris Minor and always yelled at sailor's and bum's. We were very lucky to avoid and escape arrest in those days. I liked hanging out with Willis and Buck too. Looking back at my time spent at the studio, Midnight to 6. Most of the other shows were four hours, mine was six. It was nine months of fantasy. I hope I helped sell a bunch of records for those musician's. I was mostly all alone to play what ever came to my mind. I didn't have the distractions of the sales and management people working during the day at the station. Almost all the time it was me, my imagination, my whims, and the wall of record albums. Nobody bothered me, I was free to play what was on my mind. I could get high in the studio, burn incense, and smoke cigarette's. I had no illusions of the minions of fantasy fans staying up all night listening to my personality. I knew there was "the very few," but I was mostly alone. I played the songs to please myself, I loved listening to music. I've learned that staying up all night and sleeping during the sunlight hours makes you weird. At my age then it was a new experience staying up in the dark so I didn't have any prior negative knowledge. A being needs to be in sunlight to grow. However, I've also learned that the sun is also NOT your friend either. I still loved playing too, I had a rented piano at our house that I banged on. I played old 50's tunes, Jerry Lee Lewis/Fats Domino, Beatles, Stones songs and other's I learned by ear then. I never had many commercials. I didn't get many phone calls either. I had the occasional request for "In A Gadda Da Vida." "We're having a party, we're really high and want to hear it." I didn't like the song (then and still) and about half the time (unfortunately) just shined them on. On occasion I did play it. Coming to S.D. was almost culture shock. There was far less liberty and freedom. Police were oppressive. Only warships were in the harbor, the Marine and Navy boot camps released boys on liberty every weekend to no real downtown. Sorry San Diegan's, when we were there, S.D. was a military industrial complex, police state, governed by white right wing conservatism. Police could do what they wanted. Most of the civilian jobs were military support. You had to be real careful where and when you got high. Paranoia was the way of life then!
I came in to the job as a rocker that liked the energy groups like Moby Grape, Steve Miller, Quicksilver, the Dead, Big Brother and Santana. They rocked hard, did some soft, folksy stuff, too, but those groups played blues too. When I first saw Paul Butterfield with Mike Bloomfield and Elvin Bishop it really opened the blues door for me. They had a new energy. Then came the Electric Flag with Mike Bloomfield and Buddy Miles, who added horns and mixed blues with the Memphis soul sound. Then when Hendrix appeared at Winterland in February '68, I'd heard the master. I (like everyone) is still in awe of what Jimi was able to do with a guitar. I played lots of Jimi Hendrix during my time at KPRI. I love the Chicago Blues people like Howlin' Wolf, Muddy Waters, and Buddy Guy, and the great guitarist Robert Johnson, BB King, and Albert King. I loved the early rockers like Jerry Lee Lewis, Fats Domino, Chuck Berry, the Coasters, Little Richard, James Brown, and Buddy Holly. Just recently I've grown to appreciate pre-rockers that they emulated like Louis Jordan and the Five Royales. I was a big fan of the loud metal English sound then too. The Who were so loud they made my ears ring for hours after seeing them at the Fillmore. I liked Eric Clapton in the Yardbirds, to Bluesbreakers, then Cream, and Blind Faith. The Kinks, Spencer Davis, and the Animals were also favorites. Then, I had narrow ears for country music. Country music then had the gaudy suits, high sprayed hair, guys singing twang out the side of their mouth, and stood there like statues. I played an occasional Johnny Cash tune like "Ring of Fire" and "I Walk the Line" though. Today, I have grown to appreciate the artistry, skill, and soul of some of those early country musicians. I also have to admit I was not a fan of the L.A. groups. They didn't get much play on my shows. Their sound was not raw and edgy enough for me. Once we had a live broadcast and during an interview at the Palace with Canned Heat, they f-bombed many times, which pissed me off then, you just didn't swear on the air. I did like the Doors though, they were unique. I'd seen them at the Magic Mountain Music Festival on Mt. Tamalpais June '67, Morrison was more than inebriated, but functioned. I enjoyed segueing cuts, it was like mixing music then. I would mix and match tunes and cut in and out of them. I'd play part of a song then segue in to the middle of another song or two, then come back to the first. I remember playing just Jimi Hendrix or Eric Clapton guitar solo's in succession. One of the high points of my tenure was the night Keith Moon came to the studio. The Who was in town for a concert the next night and they were staying at the El Cortez Hotel. I can't remember if I got a phone call from him or he knocked on the door, but he was there. To me Keith was a normal happy person. He was full of energy and in constant motion. He didn't have any pomposity about him. We spent a few hours talking about our lives and playing radio together. I let him choose and play records. He did some on-air bits, and spoke with people who called in for him. It was a blur, but I'm sure it really happened. Unfortunately, I was never able to meet with him again. Apparently, he liked it so much, the next night on Greg's show he brought the whole group down to the studio after their show. One night after the Cream concert Nick and I met Eric Clapton at an after-show party at the promoter's pad. I had rolled a double long "super joint" that we shared with him that night. He gladly participated in burning it down to the end. He was a normal guy too, easy to talk to, and friendly. I remember watching him strum an acoustic guitar and was amazed at the fluidity and smoothness of his wrist strokes. Buddy Miles also became an acquaintance. He visited the studio promoting his Express band. He was savvy with radio people. I look back and think that guy knew how to get his record played. Of course the talent spoke loud too. Buck and I went to his house in L.A. to visit. He got us high and showed us a good time. He took us to the Forum, where he introduced us backstage to Rod Stewart, who was with the Faces then. During another visit he introduced Nick and me to Jimi Hendrix at the Whiskey in L.A. Later, in October '68 Buddy also invited Nick & me to his concert in S.F. at Winterland when Jimi Hendrix was the headliner. Bill Graham let us in early to hear sound checks (awesome), and then for the show, sat us on stage. I had a seat next to Boz Scaggs, Nick sat next to Jimi's father! We saw Jimi from about 15 feet away (even more awesome)! Nick has obtained a bootleg copy of the shows and it still blows my mind each time I listen to them. I left San Diego with a love for Otis Redding, Sam & Dave, Booker T., Wilson Pickett and soul music. One of biggest regrets I have from those days was not going to see Otis at Monterrey Pop. I missed seeing him at the Fillmore too. I was starting to appreciate more jazz through some of the cross over groups like Gary Burton Quartet, with Larry Coryell and "Duster." Today, I'm a big fan of many jazz keyboardists like, Herbie Hancock, Ahmad Jamal, McCoy Tyner, Duke Pearson, Jimmy Smith, and salsa from Eddie Palmieri, Tito Puente, Cachao, and the Fania people. I smoked a joint with Bill Champlin (Sons of Champlin) on the stage before their set at SDSU. I got to introduce Credence at their concert once. The most embarrassing incident was the time I sat in during the afternoon time slot and mistakenly ran music behind a taped spot. Ron came rushing in to the studio to tell me to turn it off with colorful language, and we promptly started swearing at each other. Of course I forgot to turn off the mike, Joanne came in and switched it off. I guess everyone wants to know my side of the story about ol’ Capt. Sunshine falling asleep on the air? Yes, it is true. I recall a major party we had at the house that evening. I drank at the party... bad move. I didn't drink before or during my shows, it was herb that kept me going, and rarely acid or a bean. I smoked cigarettes then too. I question/doubt the story by Wisdom that I was asleep for 3 hours. I'm sure I made a show of it 'til 2. Maybe after that I got groggy and started to play long cuts, then album sides. I vaguely remember waking up to change album sides, a few of which may have played the inside groove for a spell. I vaguely remember Gabe coming in. I'm not sure where he found me. I think I became awake enough to drive home. Ron (bless him) was apparently sympathetic and understanding and I didn't get fired. But still...asleep for 3 hours and nobody knew or cared (?), it took Gabe 3 hours to get there? I don't think so. Amazing to me that Wisdom could make that the hook line of his whole career. Hey Gabe, where's my cut for taking and absorbing this abuse to further your career disparaging the good name of Capt. Sunshine? After KPRI After San Diego I lived with Nick and Marguerite in Redwood City for awhile, but then my parents died within a year of each other and I moved back to The City in our family house with my younger brother Ted. I was cast adrift. I started jamming with Ed Garro of the Friendly Stranger at his place in Bernal Heights. I met some other musician's there, bought a Fender Rhodes electric piano and formed my first rock group which we called City. We played night clubs around the Bay Area for a few years, but never made a living at it. Our band had a great lead singer, but he moved back to Detroit. We placed an add in the Rolling Stone for a singer. A female singer from Colorado answered the add and said she'd like to come to California to audition for our band. That's how I met my first wife...it lasted nine tumultuous months. I was working with Steve at Mighty Fine Record Dist. and the Record Factory Stores. The band eventually booted her out, she wanted to be the music director too. I had met and became friends with a group of guys called The Aliens who were a steady band at The Nite Life Club on San Bruno Ave. in the Portrero Dist. They were the first Latin rock band in S.F. (For their history check out voicesoflatinrock.com/the-aliens-birth-of-latin-rock and rockprosopography101.blogspot.com/2010/01/aliens-whisky-go-go-san-francisco.html) Their percussionist Chepito Arias then quit to join Santana. The Alien's broke up. Oscar Calderon joined us in City on conga's, and Mike Coronado on guitar. We had a great party and recorded a nice tape in Nick's living room in Redwood City one afternoon. Our singer Wil Staples/Kalonji Secu) took the tape back to Detroit with him and produced an album. Chepito once hired us to play a gig with him in Newport Beach. However, he told the club owner that Santana was coming (not), which after a few nights, got him sent home. Chepito got upset and stuffed rolls of TP in the toilet to make them overflow. He left us to finish the gig and limp back to S.F. A few months later, Oscar and Bill Coronado wanted to get the Alien's back together and invited me to join them and form a salsa group playing the New York styles of Eddie Palmieri, Ray Baretto, and Willie Colon. Far as I know Santana had not really played any salsa at that time. We lived off the music playing gigs within the Latin community for a few years and had a great party/bachelor pad with a swimming pool/hot tub in our living room. We played regularly at Ceasar's Latin Club on Green St. as second band and at Pete Escovedo's Club New Yorker in Oakland. We played on the bill with Eddie Palmieri at the Jack Tarr Hotel, and with Mongo Santamaria at the Great American Music Hall. We played for Bill Graham's birthday party at Caesar's, he danced all night. My greatest time in music was swinging with that eight piece salsa band. It was everything you'd expect for a band experience of the time. One night we got lazy and didn't unload our truck after a gig and my whole rig got ripped. It took a year to buy a new instrument, and the Aliens had separated. By then I'd met my second wife and moved to Pacifica when my son was born in '77. I had joined a group in the Russian River area called Bristlecone Orchestra with Oscar, Bill, and Mike Coronado and traveled back and forth on weekends to play there. When my son was born, I knew music was not going to support him or us. I got a job at PT&T and it became too much to keep playing. I decided to settle down (for the most part anyway). I managed to precariously keep the job for 33 long years. I moved from Pacifica, to Redwood City, and then to Rohnert Park after my daughter was born in '81, and commuted 50 miles to The City and back for 17 years. In '91 I earned a BS degree from University of San Francisco. I kept my old upright piano, but only played in the garage. After the kids grew, I eventually did buy an electronic keyboard from Jack Jacobsen, and got back together with Oscar, who had also moved to Santa Rosa too. A few years later, after moving to Ukiah, Oscar (on guitar) and I were the Stone Age Duo playing venues in Ukiah and Cloverdale. Today I'm retired and living in Ukiah and still play music. I played in a few local groups, performed in "Always-Patsy Cline" the musical play, but today, it's for senior citizen's enjoyment at a retirement home and the senior center, and for free, 'cept for two Senior Dance's a year. I have a guitar playing buddy Jim Franks, a Ukiah native, whose first gig was with Holly Near (heard of her?). We've learned and played all types of songs to please our audiences and challenge ourselves. Life is still good, and Ukiah offers much needed life, liberty and pursuit of happiness. Peace and love brothers and sisters!
Rudy today, relaxing with Nick Schram Rudy reminisces about the Jimi Hendrix Concert on September 3, 1968 I recall the concert was not one of Jimi's best that I've seen. I'm thinking the weather was not the best that evening either? His set list was... 1. Fire 2. Little Wing 3. Foxy Lady 4. Red House 5. Sunshine Of Your Love 6. Hey Joe. Not a very long set? Here's one of three review's I found on line...it paints the most realistic picture of the evening as I remember it. SAN DIEGO EVENING TRIBUNE - “Rock ‘King’ Proves He Deserves Throne” by Monty Norris: “In current rock music they call him the king. And last night in Balboa Stadium, nearly 9,000 of his subjects gathered to pay singer-guitarist Jimi Hendrix tribute, but in some respects he let them down. ‘Sorry,’ he told his audience before he wrapped up his 50- minute show with ‘Hey Joe,’ one of his biggest hits, ‘I feel like I’m fallin’ asleep.’ And after he finished four-minutes worth of the rock- blues tune he put down his guitar and said apologetically, ‘Thanks for comin’ - I’m sorry.’ And quietly walked off stage where a gray Cadillac sedan carried him quickly out of the stadium. But if the king disappointed his fans with his nonexplosive performance, he did do a thoroughly job of convincing those who did come to listen to his music that he deserved the throne... “Red House and “Foxey Lady,” both of which he delivered well last night. Crowd Equally Docile But despite the fact that Hendrix came off well musically, his performance was extremely mild compared with some of his past speaker-smashing, guitar-burning escapades. And the audience, although very responsive to his hard and husky sounds, was equally docile – a surprise switch from some of the reports of past psychotic Melesa at his concerts. Hopefully it is just that Hendrix has realized he is good enough as a blues-rock singer and musician that he doesn’t have to resort to juvenile gimmicks to stay on top. And he doesn’t.... Three popular rock groups.. .preceded Hendrix on stage and did a good job of warming up the audience, but at the same time they also, unwittingly, demonstrated by their contrast to Hendrix the difference between mediocrity and excellence”
Before San Diego I was a scholarship athlete at San Jose State and NFL prospect who gave up the opportunity to incur multiple broken bones and concussive head traumas to live a life of musicality, thanks to the opportunity provided by Steve Brown. I had the (mis)fortune of growing up on the same block as Steve, so my earliest recollections were of the older kid who lived up the street. We grew up simultaneously with a life centered around mischief at Aptos Jr. High School playground. I guess we developed a strange sense of humor from growing up in S.F. and listening to AM radio DJ's like Russ "the Moose" Syracuse and Don Sherwood. The comedy of Laurel & Hardy, Abbot & Costello, Little Rascals and W.C. Fields also comes to mind. My parents paid for piano lessons when I was seven. Prior to that they tried violin on me, I had two uncles who were professional violinist. I stuck with the piano and at thirteen was playing songs by ear off the radio. “Sleepwalk” and anything by Jerry Lee Lewis, Beatles, & Stones were roots. We used to do sing a longs in Steve's basement on his family upright, with me banging away. Steve and I, along with our friend Bob Marble (RIP) performed at Bob's high school senior show in '65. Steve got me interested in radio when he started working for Don Sherwood (still the Worlds Greatest Disc Jockey) at KSFO. I once witnessed from the engineering booth, the absolute hilarity of interplay between Sherwood and his genius engineer Charlie Smith who, like Froggy the Gremlin of Andy's Gang, always inserted weird sound effects and noises Sherwood had to react to. While Sherwood would go through his routine Stu was on the other side of the glass, racing through his collection of tapes and records getting his next zinger ready to lay on Sherwood. All Sherwood would have to do is talk, Charlie played the records and ran tape advertisements. Steve also provided the opportunity for me to work a few weekends at the Chris Borden School of Radio and familiarize myself with the radio station equipment. Nick was also at our high school, but I didn't know him then. He and Steve met while in the Navy Reserve together. Nick's outlook on life and sense of humor matched ours, except his mind was always a bit more refreshingly and excitedly "out there." We three became best buddies. We'd go to Golden Gate Park and the Haight causing minor havoc. Those days Nick was a great “flopper”, having his wife Marguerite pretend to flip him on his back, landing on the iron doors to subbasements (common on the streets) with a loud bang. I was a jock in high school and was All City in both football and baseball. I played football against OJ & Al in my senior year. I was drafted by the New York Mets in the first major league draft but didn't dare sign thinking I'd be drafted by the Army right away if I did. I liked baseball better than football, but wasn't offered a baseball scholarship anywhere. My best offer for a scholarship out of high school was at the Naval Academy Prep School trying to get an appointment to Annapolis as a football player. I flunked out after 9 months but was honorably discharged, and given a deferment during the Viet Nam War days. After my nine months in the Navy I accepted a football scholarship to San Jose State. I had offers from Colorado State, Washington State, and Pacific too. Prior to arriving in San Diego, I'd seen, with Steve, the first U.S. Beatles concert Aug. '64 at the Cow Palace, and their last live gig at Candlestick Park, August '66. I was a Beatles fan all the way. I saw the Rolling Stones May '65 at Civic Center on their first tour, and their farce at Altamont. I really liked The Stones and the raw rock and blues they played. They dressed like regular guys, no matching suits. I started listening to the blues artists they covered. I'd been to Fillmore, Avalon, and Winterland often and thought I was hip to what the music scene in S.F. was. I'd seen all the S.F. groups, The Airplane, The Dead, Quicksilver, Big Brother, Moby Grape, Steve Miller, and Country Joe. And there were visitor’s… The Who, Paul Butterfield, Taj Majal, Steve Winwood/Traffic, the Yardbirds (with Jimmy Page), Mother's of Invention, the Young Rascals (one of the best live groups ever!), and Jimi Hendrix. It was routine to spend Friday or Saturday nights sitting on your butt on the floor, getting high, and grooving to the bands. San Diego didn't have a venue or scene like those then. In the 60's San Francisco was starting and leading the progressive revolution of America at the time. It was a great time to be growing up there. Beatniks, UC Berkeley protests and free speech, Black Panthers/black pride. I attended San Jose State the same time as Tommy Smith and Lee Evans, and the Olympics salute. The Haight/Ashbury hippies, Golden Gate Park drum jams, and multi-band music festival's were happening. Haight/Ashbury Medical Clinic was first to say, "Health insurance is a right, not a privilege." First Intro to San Diego That summer of '66 between NAPS and SJS, Steve was managing a band called Friendly Stranger and I started hanging out with them. I traveled to San Diego that summer with them for their gig at the Palace. Along the way in L.A. I was turned on to pot for the first time by the drummer of the band, Robert Williams. We all met the guys who became Iron Butterfly and turned on with a few of them for the first time too. Robert was probably the guy who gave them the idea for their name… something both hard and soft. San Jose State Days I was a frat boy and football player at SJS while Steve was in the Navy in S.D. My frat brothers included Steve Silver of Beach Blanket Babylon (longest and still running production in S.F. history) and Al Saunders (NFL offensive genius, who years later said I could have played in the NFL). Mike Holmgren (Super Bowl winning coach) was my high school QB who threw me passes that got me noticed for college scholarships. At SJS I was the stoner footballer (not the only one on the team) who led the frat parties sing a longs on the house grand piano. "Louie Louie" and "Gloria" were drunkenly sung with vulgar lyrics produced by some of the other guys, and Beatles and Stones tunes. I was roommates with a (like minded) guy Larry Steudle (RIP) who said he had played bass for the Surfari's (can't be proven to be true due to no internet information proving he did). We ended up turning on about 1/2 the house membership. Harry Edwards was forming the Black Students Union with Tommy Smith and Lee Evans during my time there. Some of us were reading the Maharishi and Yogananda. Nick came down a few times to visit and blew away many minds. While driving around on neighborhood streets, he'd open the door and get out of the car, leaving it driverless, running along side. All being high… it was funny. Welcome to San Diego! What started out as a fun summer job after my sophomore year changed my mind about continuing with football. I can still recall the coach calling me at the station trying to convince me to come back. My life as a gladiator was done. I started with the 24-hour format change at the Medical Building. I lived at the station when I first came down. Going to the roof to get high and watch the jets circle in for landings was cool. I did 4-8 AM when I started, a few times in my underwear, but got moved to the Midnight to 6 slot. I lived for a while on Brighton with Steve when the house was raided while Huey Lewis was visiting there (the pot was in the cereal box!). Peter and I were apartment roommates for a bit. When Nick came down I resided with him and his wife Marguerite at the house on 7th until the ending. Steve went off to fight the war, we said he '"got his rocks in the ocean" (OB Jetty?) instead of saying he was in the Navy. My memories are filled with wild mischievous behavior patterns with Nick. We'd drive around stoned in his Morris Minor and always yelled at sailor's and bum's. We were very lucky to escape arrest in those days. I liked hanging out with Willis and Buck too. Looking back at my time spent at the studio—Midnight to 6am. Most of the other shows were four hours, mine was six. It was nine months of fantasy. I hope I helped sell a bunch of records for those musician's. I was mostly all alone to play what ever came to my mind. I didn't have the distractions of the sales and management people working during the day at the station. Almost all the time it was me, my imagination, my whims, and the wall of record albums. Nobody bothered me, I was free to play what was on my mind. I could get high in the studio, burn incense, and smoke my cigarette's. I had no illusions of the minions of fantasy fans staying up all night listening to my personality. I knew there was "the very few," but I was mostly alone. I played the songs to please myself, I loved listening to music. I've learned that staying up all night and sleeping during the sunlight hours makes you weird. At my age then it was a new experience staying up in the dark so I didn't have any prior negative knowledge. A being needs to be in sunlight to grow. However, I've also learned that the sun is also NOT your friend either. I still loved playing too, I had a rented piano at our house that I banged on. I played old 50's tunes, Jerry Lee Lewis/Fats Domino, Beatles, and Stones songs I learned by ear then. I believe I was the only DJ of our group that actually played an instrument. I never had many commercials. I didn't get many phone calls either. I had the occasional request for "In A Gadda Da Vida." "We're having a party, we're really high and want to hear it." I didn't like the song (then and still) and about half the time (unfortunately) just shined them on. On occasion I did play it, but never got off on it. Coming to S.D. was almost culture shock. There was far less liberty and freedom. Police were oppressive. Only warships were in the harbor, the Marine and Navy boot camps released boys on liberty every weekend to no real downtown. Sorry San Diegan's, when we were there S.D. was a military industrial complex, police state, governed by white right wing conservatism. Police could do what they wanted. Most of the civilian jobs were military support. People were so paranoid someone once flushed a whole ounce of pot down the toilet just because a cop car had driven by outside! I came in to the job as a rocker that liked the energy groups like Moby Grape, Steve Miller, Quicksilver, the Dead, and Big Brother. They rocked hard, did some soft folksy stuff too, but those groups played blues too. When I first saw Paul Butterfield with Mike Bloomfield and Elvin Bishop it really opened the blues door for me. They had a new energy. Then came the Electric Flag with Mike Bloomfield and Buddy Miles, who added horns and mixed blues with the Memphis soul sound. Then when Hendrix appeared at Winterland in February '68, I'd heard the master. I (like everyone) is still in awe of what Jimi was able to do with a guitar. I played lots of Jimi Hendrix during my time at KPRI. I love the Chicago Blues people like Howlin' Wolf, Muddy Waters, and Buddy Guy, and the great guitarist Robert Johnson, BB King, and Albert King. I loved the early rockers like Jerry Lee Lewis, Fats Domino, Chuck Berry, The Coasters, Little Richard, James Brown, and Buddy Holly. Just recently I've grown to appreciate pre-rockers that they emulated like Louis Jordan and The Five Royales. I was a big fan of the loud metal English sound then too. The Who were so loud they made my ears ring for hours after seeing them at the Fillmore. I liked Eric Clapton in the Yardbirds, to Bluesbreakers, then Cream, and Blind Faith. The Kinks, Spencer Davis, and the Animals were also favorites. Then, I had narrow ears for country music. Country music then had the gaudy suits, high sprayed hair, guys singing twang out the side of their mouth, and stood there like statues. I played an occasional Johnny Cash tune like "Ring of Fire" and "I Walk the Line" though. Today, I have grown to appreciate the artistry, skill, and soul of some of those early country musician's. I also have to admit I was not a fan of the L.A. groups. They didn't get much play on my shows. Their sound was not raw and edgy enough for me. Once we had a live broadcast and during an interview at the Palace with Canned Heat, they f-bombed many times, which pissed me off then, you couldn't swear on the air. I did like The Doors though. I'd seen them at the Magic Mountain Music Festival on Mt. Tamalpais June '67, Morrison was more than inebriated, but functioned. I enjoyed segueing cuts, it was like mixing music then. I would mix and match tunes and cut in and out of them. I'd play part of a song then segue in to the middle of another song or two, then come back to the first. I remember playing just Jimi Hendrix or Eric Clapton guitar solo's in succession. One of the high points of my tenure was the night Keith Moon came to the studio. The Who was in town for a concert the next night and they were staying at the El Cortez Hotel. It's hard to remember if I got a phone call from him or he knocked on the door, but he was there. Keith to me was like a normal happy person. He was full of energy and in constant motion. He didn't have any pomposity about him. We spent a few hours talking about our lives and playing radio together. I let him choose and play records. He did some on the air bits, and spoke with people who called in for him. It was a blur, but I'm sure it really happened. Unfortunately, I was never able to meet with him again. Apparently, he liked it so much, the next night on Greg's show he brought the whole group down to the studio after their show. One night after the Cream concert Nick and I met Eric Clapton at an after-show party at the promoter's pad. I had rolled a double long "super joint" that we shared with him that night. He gladly participated in burning it down to the end. He was a normal guy too, easy to talk to, and friendly. I remember watching him strum an acoustic guitar and was amazed at the fluidity and smoothness of his wrist strokes. Buddy Miles also became an acquaintance. He visited the studio promoting his Express band. He was savvy with radio people. I look back and think… that guy knew how to get his record played. Of course the talent spoke loud too. He invited me and Buck to his house in L.A. to visit. He got us high and showed us a good time. That night he took us to the Forum, where he introduced us backstage to Rod Stewart, who was with the Faces then. During another visit he introduced Nick and me to Jimi Hendrix at the Whiskey in L.A. Later, in October '68 Buddy also invited Nick & me to his concert in S.F. at Winterland when Jimi Hendrix was the headliner. Bill Graham let us in early to hear sound checks (awesome), and then for the show sat us on stage. I had a seat next to Boz Scaggs, Nick sat next to Jimi's father! We saw Jimi from about 15 feet away (even more awesome)! Nick has obtained a bootleg copy of the shows and it still blows my mind each time I listen to them. I left San Diego with a love for Otis Redding, Sam & Dave, Booker T., Wilson Pickett and soul music. One of biggest regrets I have from those days was not going to see Otis at Monterrey Pop. I missed seeing him at the Fillmore too. I was starting to appreciate more jazz through some of the cross over groups like Gary Burton Quartet, with Larry Coryell and "Duster." Today, I'm a big fan of many jazz keyboardist like, Herbie Hancock, Ahmad Jamal, McCoy Tyner, Jimmy Smith, and salsa from Eddie Palmieri, Cachao, and the Fania people. I smoked a joint with Bill Champlin (Sons of Champlin) on the stage before their set at SDSU. I got to introduce Credence at their concert once. Most embarrassing was the time I sat in during the afternoon time slot and mistakenly ran music behind a taped spot. Ron came rushing in to the studio to tell me to turn it off with colorful language, and we promptly started swearing at each other. Of course I forgot to turn off the mike, Joanne came in and switched off. I guess everyone wants to know my side of the story about ole Capt. Sunshine falling asleep on the air? Yes, it is true. I recall a major party we had at the house that evening. I drank at the party… bad move. I didn't drink before or during my shows, it was herb that kept me going, and rarely acid or a bean. I smoked cigarettes then too. I question/doubt the story by Wisdom that I was asleep for three hours. I'm sure I made a show of it 'til two. Maybe after that I got groggy and started to play long cuts, then album sides. I vaguely remember waking up to change album sides, a few of which may have played the inside groove for a spell. I vaguely remember Gabe coming in. I'm not sure where he found me. I think I became awake enough to drive home. Ron (bless him) was apparently sympathetic and understanding and I didn't get fired. But still... asleep for three hours and nobody knew or cared (?), it took Gabe three hours to get there? I don't think so. Amazing to me that Wisdom could make that the hook line of his whole career. Hey Gabe, where's my cut for taking and absorbing this abuse to further your career disparaging the good name of Capt. Sunshine? After KPRI After San Diego I lived with Nick and Marguerite in Redwood City for awhile, but then my parents died within a year of each other and I moved back to The City in our family house with my younger brother Ted. I was cast adrift. I started jamming with Ed Garro of the Friendly Stranger at his place in Bernal Heights. I met some other musician's there, bought a Fender Rhodes electric piano and formed my first rock group which we called City. We played night clubs around the Bay Area for a few years, but never made a living at it. I was working with Steve at Mighty Fine Record Dist. and the Record Factory Stores. Our band had a great lead singer, but he moved back to Detroit. We placed an add in the Rolling Stone for a singer. A female singer from Colorado answered the ad and said she'd like to come to California to audition for our band. That's how I met my first wife… it lasted nine tumultuous months. The band eventually booted her out, she wanted to be the focal point. Her highlight was singing the "Behind the Green Door" movie song. I then met a group of guys called The Aliens who were the steady band at The Nite Life Club on San Bruno Ave. in the Portrero District. They were the first Latin rock band in S.F. (For their history check out voicesoflatinrock.com/the-aliens-birth-of-latin-rock and rockprosopography101.blogspot.com/2010/01/aliens-whisky-go-go-san-francisco.html) Their percussionist Chepito Arias had just quit to join Santana. Oscar Calderon and Bill Coronado invited me to join them and form a salsa group playing the New York styles of Eddie Palmieri, Ray Baretto, and Willie Colon. Far as I know Santana had not really played any salsa at that time. We lived off the music for a few years and had a great party/bachelor pad with a swimming pool/hot tub in our living room. We played regularly at Ceasar's Latin Club on Green St. as second band and at Pete Escovedo's Club New Yorker in Oakland. We played on the bill with Eddie Palmieri at the Jack Tarr Hotel, and with Mongo Santamaria at the Great American Music Hall. My greatest time in music was swinging with that eight-piece salsa band. It was everything you'd expect for a band experience of the time, sex, drugs, and rock & roll. One night we got lazy and didn't unload our truck after a gig and my whole rig got ripped. It took a year to buy a new instrument, and the Aliens had separated. By then I'd met my second wife and moved to Pacifica where my son was born in '77. I had joined a group in the Russian River area called Bristlecone Orchestra with Oscar, Bill, and Mike Coronado and traveled back and forth on weekends to play there. When my son was born, I knew music was not going to support him or us. I got a job at PT&T and it became too much to keep playing. I decided to settle down (for the most part anyway). I managed to precariously keep the job for 33 long years. I moved from Pacifica, to Redwood City, and then to Rohnert Park after my daughter was born in '81 and commuted to The City for 17 years. I kept my old piano, but only played in the garage. After the kids grew, I eventually did buy a few new electronic keyboards and got back together with Oscar as the Stone Age Duo for a few years playing in Cloverdale. Today I'm retired and living in Ukiah and still play music. I played in a few local groups, performed in Always-Patsy Cline the musical play, but today, it's for senior citizen's enjoyment at a retirement home and the senior center, and for free, 'cept for two Senior Dance's a year. I have a guitar playing buddy Jim Franks, a Ukiah native, whose first gig was with Holly Near (heard of her?). We've learned and played all types of songs to please our audiences. Life is still good, and Ukiah offers much needed life, liberty and pursuit of happiness. Peace and love brothers and sisters!
© 2015 KPRI TIMELINE