Wild Willie's turned into a 2 band gig. I think we traded nights or something. Anyway, there was this young guitar player named Larry, who said he was 18, but he was actually only 16. I mean this kid smoked. I'd never seen anybody play a guitar that easily and that fast. He was playing a Fender Telecaster. Oh, did I mention that his last name was Carlton? That's right, Larry Carlton. This kid was a monster, even then. I asked him one day (and I was older than him by a couple of years) if he would give me some lessons and the little turkey turned me down, but he did it in such a nice way I couldn't be mad. He said "Oh man, I don't think so. I've been playing since I was 6 years old. I don't need the money and I really don't want to give away my licks." Such a nice guy; the nicest cat you'll ever want to meet. Still, I told him "Larry, I'm not kidding around. If you won't give me some lessons, I swear I will tape record your butt some night." He laughed and shrugged it off. I did, in fact, go into the club in the daytime, and got up in the ceiling which had burlap hung for a ceiling. I crawled up in the rafters and hung a set of Electrovoice 666 microphones (devil mic's. Nyuk) for my stereo recorder that I had and I did the unforgivable. I SNEAK RECORDED HIM. Really. I never actually studied the tape that much, but I did listen to it a lot for pure enjoyment and learned a lick or two. Years later, I told him about it and he laughed and wanted to hear it. Unfortunately, I can't find it, now.

   One day, after I first met Larry, he was rehearsing with the band. They were called "The Frank Four" named after the organ player Frank. I looked at Larry's Tele and it had 6 unwound strings on it. Guitar players will know what I'm talking about. This was about 1965, I think, and I was just considering making the switch from a wound "g" string (3rd string) to an unwound "g" which could be bent and stretched easier. Blues guys were up to speed about that, but us young players were still just flirting with it. Back to Larry: I asked about this bizarre set of 6 unwound strings on his tele. He said "Yeah, well I asked my mom to pick me up some strings from the music store and this is what she brought back." I laughed because no one played with more than the first 3 strings unwound and here he had 6 unwound strings. He then went on to say "I meant to get a wound low "E" string." My jaw hit the floor. Even 5 unwound strings would be ridiculous. How the hell could this guy play with weird strings like that and keep it in tune, much less make it sound great? He had to be putting me on, but I didn't know it at the time. Larry was amazingly precise and fluid in his hand motions. A real treat to watch and hear.

   I have heard stories that Larry has perfect pitch. To those of you who don't know what that is, let me explain. It's when a person can hum a requested note, or recognize it when heard, without any reference to another instrument or musical note. For instance: "oh, yes, that's a C sharp." I've always been able to catch guys when they try to say they have perfect pitch. There is another form that I call "relative pitch" or "attained pitch," which I have. A number of good players have it. Simply put, it is a familiarity with musical intervals. If you know chord structure and are familiar with intervals, all you need to know is one previous note, and you can tell exactly what note is being played. If someone turns their back away from a piano and says "play any note and I will tell you what it is," they may be able to do it, but if you listen real close you can catch them hitting a note first that they keep in mind. Then, it's just a matter of arithmetic and counting intervals to figure out the note. The exception would be someone who has played one instrument all their life and are completely familiar with the timbre of each note, regardless of which octave. They may be able to do it ONLY on their particular instrument, such as a piano. I should have never gone into this. A musician thing. Did any of that make sense? I doubt it. Sorry. At the time I didn't understand intervals, but in just a few months I would meet someone in Arizona that would turn that light on for me.

    I believe that Larry was just starting to study with the great jazz guitarist Joe Pass. Larry also played great country licks, great rock licks, great ballads and tunes from the 40's. Putting it simply, he was awesome and he was also just 16. Larry went on to become the monster he is today, one of the greatest guitarists in the world. I'm not close friends with Larry, just an acquaintance from years ago. I saw him one more time years later over at CBS when we did the Glen Campbell show. He was in the house band downstairs being piped in. Back to the Nomads.

    There was a club on Imperial Highway (also south of LAX airport) called The Tip Top Club that all us guys used to go for jam sessions. This placed rocked. A small club, but all the best players showed up regularly and sat in. One of the groups that played there a lot was called Little Davey and the Chain Gang. Davey was the leader/guitarist and I heard that he used to hang by his heels (toes more likely) from a beam directly over the bandstand ... and play guitar upside down. I also heard he fell one night and broke his neck doing that. I don't know if that last part is true or not. He was good. Troy Walker, another really good singer, used to sit in there and at the Hullabaloo on Sunset Blvd. Now there was a cool place. Had a huge stage with a curtain and the center of the stage could rotate 360º. The Nomads played a show there once. Little Richard was on the bill, too. That was during his "King of Rock n Roll" album period when he truly integrated his "campy-swishy" thing into his show. He was killer. It was great to be on the same stage with him. There he was, literally standing up on top of a Steinway piano and singing his "ooooooo's" like only Richard can do. A legend from my childhood.

    We set up our band gear behind the curtain, as one group finished playing their set. Then, they raised the curtain and started rotating us to the front, as the other group rotated to the back, all while we were starting our first song. Sorry folks. I was impressed (again). I love this stuff. By the way, for you really, really old people, this was where the old Hullabaloo television show use to come from. Right across the street was the Palladium where Lawrence Welk did many of his things AND where, only 3 and half years later ... I would be at a Grammy's presentation. I had no idea at the time, of course.

   The next thing I knew, we, The Nomads, were headed for Tucson, Arizona, U-haul trailer and all. We were going to create our own tour and book ourselves. So off we went in that '47 Chevy. I think route 66 was still a major happening then. We had a water bag on the front of the radiator to keep it from overheating out in the desert.

   Upon arriving in Tucson, we auditioned at a club owned by a Mr. Smiley called "The Embers," if I remember correctly. He owned a few clubs in town and we played at a couple of them for 2-4 weeks each. The local favorites were a couple of guys named The Lewellan Brothers.

   The last club we worked in Tucson was called The Doll House. Cory Wells would work there soon after we left, but we would not actually meet. Ultimately, we were out of work, out of money and away from home. We were staying at a place called The Tucson Inn and we went to the manager and told him our predicament. Amazingly, he agreed to let us have one room for the entire band for free, until we could get on our feet again. We would get up early in the morning and hit the Coke machines, where we would find empty Coke bottles. We'd gather them up, go to the liquor store and buy bologna and bread. That was our food for the day.

   While there, I traded my Gibson 335 for an old Fender Broadcaster that I found at the Chicago Music store on Commerce street. It had been in a fire and the neck was separate from the body, but connected by the strings still left from the fire. A major thing trading off that pretty shiny Gibson 335 for a piece of junk ... been in a fire ... old guitar. It wasn't a mistake. That guitar taught me a style I may have missed otherwise. Serial #0352, I believe. It was later stolen in South Shore Lake Tahoe.