attempting first ever blog

hello people of blog. i come to you in peace and friendship and will attempt to communicate in your planet’s form of dialogue:

i remember buying and readin that rolling stone issue back in the 70s that reviewed neil’s newest record then ‘on the beach’. they gave him a lot of shit about his one note solo in “vampire blues”. i loved that solo. i think also in that issue was the first ever mention of a new new york band called the ramones. they called them ‘mook rock’. in fact, now that this blog has jogged, i think i still have that same issue. i think it was the only issue of rolling stone i ever kept. i think i saw it around here 10 or 15 years ago still, with its crumpled yellowing pages shoved in a cabinet i never have to look in. can i plop that issue on this space somehow ? how do you stick it in a flap top ?

that’s it for now. thanks for having me.
your pal,
howe gelb

um .. shortly after the above time frame … hearing about a relative secret solo tour neil had set up, i decided to hitch up to berkley, california where he was rumored to be playing to ask him for a job playing piano. i was 19. it was the late 70s. i began my trip from tucson, and then struggled up highway 1 for a 3 day hitch. when i got there, the show was sold out and i couldn’t afford the scalper’s tickets of 35 bucks. so i went off to sulk. but as i walked away i heard music wafting on the breeze. i followed it down an alley and up a flight of fire escape stairs to a heavy wooden door. it was neil on the other side of that locked door. i planted myself there with my hitchin friend and shared a doob, listening to his set through the wonderful acoustics of that vibrating wooden door and planning on asking neil, when he’d get done and come out this obvious stage door, for a job playing piano. the stars were shining above. the bricks in the alley were painted red. the music was solo neil sublime. i was happy.

then the show was over and my head got bonked by that door opening. it was the exit door for the audience. the flow of people dragged us down the stairs like upstream trout that that had already spawned. no more neil.
i would have to start my own band.

the end.