Walter Spinks oral history

My name is Nori Guthrie from the Woodson Research Center, Fond and Library Rice University. I am interviewing Walter Spins. Today is October 26th, 2017. This is part of the Houston Folk Music Archive, Oral History project. Could you tell me a bit about your early life? Sure.

Uh I was uh born in 1950 February 26 in Shreveport, Louisiana. Uh still a baby when uh my folks moved to New Orleans. Uh that was 1952 and I, all my formative years were there. Uh I grew, I was, lived in four different houses there. All

each one of them was no further than one block off of Saint Charles Avenue in the Garden District. Uh went to Catholic schools my entire time there. And uh well, I was uh very much influenced by the Laissez Faire atmosphere of New Orleans and the old

world charm and everything. And of course, I, you couldn't escape the, uh you know, the music scene there. Uh Jazz Dixieland. And uh of course, it had a pretty vibrant uh pop scene with all the people like Fats Domino and Clarence, the Frogman Henry, and Irma

Thomas and, uh, Huey Piano Smith, Professor Long Hair. And you'd hear those, those things. And, uh, even as a child, I could go down to the French quarter. I mean, most kids were pretty independent and it was, uh, not like the atmosphere of fear for your

Children. So it was nothing for, uh, my friends and I, as young as nine or 10 years old, just hop on the street car, go down to uh Canal Street and get off and walk up and down Bourbon Street. And of course, we were getting cheap

thrills just by walking in front of all the, the burlesque houses and everything and uh uh and you'd hear the music coming out of the clubs, you go walk past the preservation hall and hear them just wailing away. And uh and of course, you'd sometimes actually

come across some of the uh the jazz funerals that were are so legendary and uh it's really, it's really impressive to a young kid to be exposed to all of that. And uh and while I was still there, of course, the big, the big folk revival

came out and of course, with the real, the real uh hardcore straight up and down folkies like burl eyes and things like that singing the Blue Tail Fly. But also, of course, there were the people like Dave Van Ronk and uh Joan Baez and Kingston Trio

and of course PP and M Peter Paul and Mary uh and, uh, my oldest brother was getting into that sort of thing. So that's probably, I was about 11 or 12 then. And, uh, I really love that kind of music and I really got into that

and of course I listened to all the other stuff, the pop music Elvis Presley and the Everly Brothers and all of that. Um, when did your, or, I guess when, and then later, and why did your family move to Houston? Well, my dad was a uh

a, a corrosion engineer which is a specialty within the oil and gas industry, protecting buried uh pipelines from corrosion and rust. And also even uh uh oil rigs out at sea. And I used to go sometimes with him out on fishing trips, which was always a

mistake because I've never taken to the water. Ok. I'm not a water person, but, uh, anyway, his home office of his company was in, um, Houston and I kind of, I really missed it because his office in New Orleans where we would get, uh, is the

exact location where the Mardi Gras Day parades originates the corner of Felicity and the Saint Charles. And that's where all the floats would line up. So we always saw the very first when it went under way because they had a big picture window in his office.

And I was so sad to go away from that because every Mardi Gras that's where we watched it from. And uh, we got to, my folks got to know a lot of the people on the floats and everything and they'd always, even though it was the

beginning of the parade, they'd still throw stuff because they're notorious for being stingy at the early part of the route so that they have something left over for the end. But they'd always throw us stuff because we'd let them come in and use the bathroom there

and, and, uh, always give them a cold beer because they had tanks and of cold beer and ice. And then you, when did you end up coming to? So you moved to Houston? Oh, that was in 1963 in the summer. And, uh, we lived in Sharpstown,

which at that time was the Prairie. I mean, we were one block from the fence that separated Sharpstown from Bob Smith's cattle ranch. And, uh, I mean, it was, it was the wilderness coming from a New Orleans where every street that we ever lived on was,

uh, kind of like streets here around Rice University just completely overgrown with, uh massive oak trees. On either side. It made tunnels through the neighborhoods practically. So it was always shady even though it was hot and out there. I mean, it was just sweltering 100 plus

degrees and the bar of nothingness, I mean, the tallest thing around was a blade of Saint Augustine grass. So there was no shade and I hated it. And, uh, they, I went to, uh, uh, public school when I first started and then I went to Jesuit

for three years till they kicked me out for being so irreverent. And, uh, and, uh, then I finished up at Robert E Lee and, uh, on the musical side of things, of course, I had a couple of very interesting classmates in my, uh, in my graduating

class, uh, Billy Gibbons from Z Top. And, uh, and here I am showing my age because I can't remember the name of the fellow that was Ronnie Laws. Earth Wind and Fire. We're both in my, my class, I had some classes with them but alas we

weren't pals or anything. Um, how were you first drawn to music? Well, of course, uh I was, I'd always loved music of all kinds, you know, rock, pop, jazz, folk music and, uh, uh my brother in 63 when we first moved there, he bought a little

cheap Spanish guitar and I on a string guitar and he was a true left hander and he restrung the strings left handed. Well, when he got tired of it, he gave it to me and it was already strung, left handed and it kind of felt natural

for me to pick it up that way and do the fingerings with my right hand, which is my dominant hand, although I am ambidextrous at most things. Uh, but, uh, that just seemed like the right way to go. And so I started learning how to play

on that. Uh, started, of course, the Beatles came out in late 63 early 64. And, uh, I, I glommed on to that pretty quickly and wanted to learn how to play all those songs. And then, of course, Bob Dylan, you know, uh I was really intrigued

by his lyrics, although I don't have a poet soul myself. I've written one song in my entire life. And uh but uh I really like the quality of lyrics I was hearing and uh like Dylan Donovan, uh Simon and Gar Fun. Uh um a lot of

other folks uh in that vein. Um When did you start kind of going to different music clubs in Houston? Well, I went to all the, I went to a lot of the rock clubs like, and uh of our own, uh my brother started working at family

hand which uh wasn't so much of a music venue, but they did have some music in there. And uh uh I couldn't go to any of the drinking clubs, of course, because I was still under age and I found myself going to uh Sand Mountain and

uh and I started getting introduced to acts like Guy Clark Towns, Van Zant, Jerry Jeff Walker. And then uh Bill and Lucille uh gotta say, Don Sanders, uh a number of folks like that and of course, they were all writing very interesting. Lyrics. And, uh, that

was what I was always drawn to even more than the musicality of the, uh, performances. And I said, well, that's what I wanna do even though I can't, I'm, I'm not, I don't feel qualified to write those songs but I sure do like them. And I,

and everybody else was playing those things too, even though they were writing their own music. But they pretty much concentrated on the ones that were the, the big, the big number one songs off the albums and I tended to concentrate on some of the lesser known

ones. And, uh, so, like, you know, I wouldn't play, you know, Simon and Garfunkel's, uh, top tunes, but I'd play their lesser known, same thing with Bob Dylan or any of the others that I would try to emulate. So, um, could you talk a little bit

more about Sand Mountain, um, like your experiences there? It was, uh, it was a great place to, uh, when you were 16 years old to take a date because, uh, it felt kind of like a nightclub and they even had a, a two drink minimum of

their insipid, nasty sweet drinks and teas and coffees and stuff and, uh, uh, it was a good place to go in and hold hands and that sort of thing. And, uh, it was dark so you could maybe even steal a kiss or something if you were

discreet. Can you describe what it looked like on the inside. Now that I'm kind of, I'm kind of fuzzy on that. I just knew you went in and there was the, uh, Mrs Carrick would be there at the door, uh, or her son or would be

there and, uh, you'd pay your money to go in. And then I think you took a left and went into the music room. It was an old converted house and I guess you were walking into the main hallway and then going to where they had probably

combined the living room, dining room or something to, to make the music room. And, uh, uh, that's where I first met, uh, Bill and Lucille Cade and I felt like, oh, my gosh, I'm talking to the stars, you know, and, and some of those other folks

weren't as, uh, congenial like Bill and Lucille or Don Sanders, uh, and, uh, like Guy Clark and Towns Van and they, they were already kind of on the road to making it. And so they were a little more standoffish and I'm, I'm guessing that you were

too young and also under age to get into the jester. Yeah, I never went there and, uh, in the early days and the old quarter was in existence too, but it was a bar, but I couldn't go there either until I turned 18. So it was

just mainly Sand Mountain, which is, yeah. And then, of course, you know, we could go you could go to or the Catacombs because they didn't serve liquor or be there either. And so I could go see the rock shows there, which I also enjoyed quite a

lot. Um, so when you were going to Sand Mountain, were you who were some of them, like if you had to choose like one or two people that you were just crazy about watching, uh, probably Guy Clark and, and Don Sanders. And uh why, why did

you, I mean, you connected with him over kind of over lyrics. Was that like did a performance? And also, uh Don was, uh Don had a, had a uh was more of a talker between his shows also. And uh much more so than say Guy Clark

was he, he pretty much go from song to song, maybe a few words here and there about the song or something. But Don was more engaging with the audience. He, he'd be, sometimes people would even talk back to him and engage that way. And uh and

I, I really like that and also I like the fact that they didn't tell you that you couldn't talk when you came in. But uh most of the performers there could hold an audience uh because of the strength of their performance. And uh and I like

that too because it lets you hear what was going on. It lets you hear the lyrics and pay more attention to the uh and of course, that was also great for a 16 year old who was with his date and was tongue tied and it made,

it made everything so much easier, so much easier. Right. You sit there and hold hands, communicate, you know, through the vibes of the hand. Can you, um, talk a little bit about, um, your early duo fat and furry, fat and furry? Yeah. If you look at

me now you'd think, oh, that's the fat one. But no, I was, uh, I was furry and my, because I was, you know, a lean, uh, kid and, uh, my partner Harry Oswald was the fat one. Although by today's standards even, he probably wouldn't be considered

too fat nowadays, but he was about, he probably weighed about 2 52 40 something like that. And it was a lot shorter than me. But, uh, we played, uh, we played some of the, uh, some of the places, of course, I had done all the garage

band stuff when I was, you know, much younger, 13, 14, 15 years old, uh, playing, you know, trying to play Rolling Stones and Beatles songs that we couldn't figure out how because they were much more complicated than the, you know, the 145 progressions that you normally

heard. And, uh, and all that never went anywhere. We never played any place. But then as I got a little older, I and I met Harry, uh, that's probably about 68 I guess. And, uh, we started playing out at places and, uh, we would play some

places like the Hobbit Hole or the Sunshine House or Green Room, which was right down the street from uh Sand Mountain. Never got to play Sand Mountain though. And, uh, we had a, a play, a paying gig. Our big, our biggest paying gig we ever had

was at the University of Houston Coffee House. And we got a real nice write up in the, in the uh student paper. And, uh you know, and I described our act, I said, uh you know, we play obscure folk songs and then uh Harry would do

the rejoinder, you know, it was part of the act. Yeah, that makes us obscure folk singers. And uh and uh of course, we, you know, met uh Dallas Allen there who now, of course, is, is inherited the mantle of the curve folk festivals. And so, uh

and she liked this and, uh you know, that was a great thing. Uh because she is a real, you know, I look at her as a real giant and of music and folk music in Texas, not just Houston. And uh but we, we played for a

while and then we met Rev Smith. Uh We would always go out to our biggest gigs were always out at the Herman Park Hill. And uh people would go there and play uh guitar and we, you know, some people would set up in one part of

the hill and we'd set up in another part of the hill and there'd probably be about four or five different jams going on at any given Saturday or Sunday, late morning, early afternoon and early evening. Uh, you know, as long as the weather permitted and our

little, uh, sessions would draw a lot of people because we were really loud. Uh, we Harry had been, had been opera trained and, uh, and I, a lot of that rubbed off on me. And so we would really sing out and we were banging on those

guitars and, and, uh, we'd attract other musicians and sometimes we'd have up to 200 people or so and maybe even a dozen musicians and rev usually would come over and join us. And of course, he was a lot better guitar player than neither Harry or I

was. And, uh, so, uh, we met him and he started saying, well, where are you playing? And so he started to say in some of the places we were playing and then he said, I play some over at Anderson Fair. And, uh, this has been about,

by this time we were maybe 1970 I think Anderson Fair had only just been open a few months or maybe, maybe a year. And we went over and, and so he said, let's go over to Anderson Fair and see if they'll hire you over there. So,

we went, um, met, uh, Pat Stout and Marvin Anderson. Marvin was one of the founders, of course Anderson Fair, Gray Fair or Franklin Gray Fair, uh, was, uh, already he's, he helped open the place and then he left pretty much after it was over. So, and,

uh, Marvin Anderson and Pat Pritchett, uh, who was the chief cook and bottle washer and, uh, an inventor of most of the recipes that were used for the spaghetti. That's what I have heard. And, uh, they loved us. They thought, oh, great. Yeah, y'all need to

come over. But you know what, we're getting ready to close for the whole month of August. So come back in, in September. So that's when we started playing. It was, so it was either September, I think it was September of 70 when we started playing there

and we got, we, uh, we held our own pretty well. It was a pretty small venue but, uh, with our, the way we could project and fill the room with sound and of course, there was no sound system or anything and, uh, we were not daunted

by that in any way and, uh, people would tip us, they had a tip can out there and, and we would make, we would do pretty good and sometimes other people played and we would, uh, go hear him rev would play, we'd go hear him. And,

uh, over time we started playing more and more with and we added, uh, uh, another player, uh, David Seaman on five string banjo and he was fairly accomplished already at his five string banjo playing. We started calling ourselves, uh, the New Lost Ozone Rangers. And, uh,

we, we threw in a couple of bluegrass pieces and a couple of old tiny pieces. Of course, like we learned from like the, uh, uh, the New Lost City ramblers, uh, and the Doc Watson and people like that, we would add to our other contemporary Dylan

and Peter Paul and Mary and uh Simon and Garfunkel Joan bias, things like that. And uh that went on for a while and it wasn't long though, before more and more people kept coming in. And so our nights were getting bumped back and uh this leads

into when I uh started uh participating in Anderson Fair. I was volunteering because it's always had been a place that has operated with a lot of volunteers. So I started volunteering to help out on nights that I wasn't uh playing or daytime when they were serving

spaghetti and um enchiladas and things like that. And Marvin decided he was gonna move away and leave the restaurant. And uh he asked me, would you be willing to buy into my shares? And so for the princely sum of $250 I became a partner in Anderson

Fair along with uh Pat Stout and Robbie Franklin, Sandy Mathis that we called Sugar Magnolia. And uh, and so we were the, basically the owners because Pat Pritchett had also left not too long after Harry and I just started playing there. She went on to do,

do the things that she did when I and I never did keep up with her. We were not close, so we were just friendly. We saw each other and said hi and shot the small talk and so forth. Could you talk to me a little bit

more about Rev Smith? Oh, yes. That was a very interesting character. He was, uh, an excellent musician, uh, and probably the, the, the hippies hippie I've ever met because he really lived the hippie lifestyle. And, uh, Houston was just made for him because he, uh, he

almost never wore anything but a pair of black cut off shorts or jeans, cut off shorts and a plain T shirt and flip flops. And that was pretty much what he wore. He went everywhere on a, on a American bicycle with no, you know, no gears

just, uh, pedals and, and pedal bras and, uh, carried his guitar and along side and held on with one hand and went bicycling everywhere. Had very, very long hair once in a while in keeping with his name, Rev Smith. He had a, a rebel cap, uh,

that he would wear, uh, and he was, uh, he was, let's see, he was, uh, an adopted, uh, Korean war orphan. Uh, and he, he, uh, had grown up. I can't remember where in Texas it might have been somewhere in the valley down around Harlingen or

somewhere like that. And, uh, it was hard to know where Reb lived at any given time. I, I never went to an apartment or anything that he called his, he had, uh, the most extraordinary luck with women. He always had several girlfriends and at any given

time he might be staying with one or another of them. And, uh, and he was, uh just as happy, go lucky as you can imagine anybody to be. Uh, now, of course, later in life, things got very different for him. But, um, he played a lot

of other instruments when I first met him, he was only playing guitar and, uh both uh, uh just regular folk playing and, but he also would play uh slide guitar. He was good with the slide. Then later on, he started picking up mandolin and of course,

he excelled at that. And then he got a, uh, a Greek stringed instrument called Bazi. And he became a master of that. Uh, and he could really, really play just about any style of music behind anybody. Uh, he could play rock and roll music if you

put an electric guitar in his hands. Uh, and he backed up behind a lot of people and, uh I hope this won't sound terrible. But he fancied himself to be a songwriter too and he wrote a good number of songs, but to tell you the truth,

they were all very sophomore and of the Moon and June and Spoon variety. Uh not very creative, not very uh deep in the subject matter. It was all about being, even though he seemed to me to be a pretty successful man with the ladies, it was

always about rejection. He had been rejected and wounded in love. Every one of his songs was like that and it was like, uh uh when people would be sitting around playing and uh they'd be playing their own songs and people like me would play some cover

song and he'd come around and he'd play one of his songs and everybody would just be kind of rolling their eyes like, 00, yeah, that's good. You know, and the music that he played behind it was great, but the songs were just not something that you

could really get into. Uh and especially when it came to my time when I started uh becoming an owner of uh one of the owners and I did the booking for the music uh even in the old room and he would always want to play a

weekend gig and it was hard to put him in as a weekend gig because he couldn't hold the people in. They'd listen to him for a while and get him go after a few songs after they finished their beer or their or their plate. Of spaghetti

or whatever and they'd go, uh, whereas a lot of other musicians would stick around and buy another beer or buy another beer after that. And, uh, tip big and he didn't get a lot of tips either. And he, he, he really didn't understand why he could

not see why he wasn't as popular as some of the other people that played there. And, uh, it was, it was kind of always a sad thing. And, uh, and of course, after I left, uh, you know, and as he got older he wasn't changing and

he started drinking more than just a beer. Every now and again, he started drinking harder liquor. He was always had a flask of hard liquor with him. And then, of course, he started getting, you know, I heard because I had already moved away in the, uh,

late eighties and, and then, of course, one day I heard I got a call and that, uh, reb had committed suicide. And, uh, in some ways I wasn't surprised because he was still, I mean, even into his, uh, thirties and later thirties, I guess, I don't

know exactly how old he was when he died, but he wasn't that much younger than me, I don't think. And, uh, and he was still riding around on that bicycle in his flip flops and t-shirt and he hadn't changed and the scene had kind of passed

him by totally. And, uh, I can remember in those days when he was having those, all that angst about not getting as popular as, as the other folks playing. And I kept saying, you know, you really ought to join up with a, uh, as a guitarist.

You could be the lead guitarist for any number of good groups that could, that are needing one. I mean, I see groups all over town that are playing, you know, folk music or folk rock or just pure rock and roll or blues because he could play

any idiom he wanted to. And I said, you should just, you know, work yourself into, you could be playing every night and making money just being, you know, you'd be a hot lead guitar player and that's not what he wanted. He's, he fancied himself a songwriter

and it was really sad to see, uh, and I, when I heard that he had, uh did what he did shocking too because he, some years earlier he witnessed, uh he was a firsthand witness to uh kind of an unbalanced fellow and his name is Slipping

Me. He was a, a young man who played slide guitar principally and was extremely good. And he had played Anderson Fair, but he had a lot of personality disorders too. And, and I'm sorry, I cannot remember this young man's name but Rabbit attended a party and

the young man came in and what burst through the door and kind of said, hey, everybody and everybody looked up at him and he pulled a revolver and blew his brains out right in front of everybody. And I'm like, I, I couldn't imagine witnessing that scene,

but after witnessing such a thing, I can't imagine that I'd go ahead and do that to myself. So that was equally shocking when I heard what ra had done to himself. So you had kind of started to take over some of the management duties or the

booking and things. Yes, I was doing the booking and uh we very shortly after we acquired the room next door to Anderson Fair and at the time, it was a residence, believe it or not of an architect uh named John Day and his wife. And uh

of course, what's the music room now is just their living room, dining room, et cetera. And the part that's backstage behind that curved wall that you really can't appreciate it as much with the curtains in front of it. But it's a very interesting uh structure there

and that was their bedroom back there. And uh they moved out. And so General Barraco uh uh told us it was available and so we took it and I wanted immediately to uh expand the music room in there. But everybody else in the corporation, uh Blue

Squirrel Corporation, which Pat Stout had established. Pat and Robbie Franklin had established the corporation. They all said no, no, it's too soon. We can't, we can't do it. So we uh sublet it out for six months to uh the artist coop, which was a brainchild of

a local artist named Bob Regal. Um very noted for his most impressive airbrush paintings of uh Native Americans and uh western scenes and stuff like that. He was extremely talented gentleman and uh so that he started his co-op and I let him know in the beginning,

I said, you know, I want to take that space over as soon as we possibly can. I let everybody in my corporation, I let everybody know in the artist coop that, you know, it was not gonna be a long term thing. I said, it's gonna be

six months or maybe we'll extend you to a year. And uh after that, we're gonna move in there with our, our uh music room. And of course we did. And, uh, they, everybody was acted very shocked when I finally convinced our people that we were ready.

And then I said, well, you know what, we're not renewing your contract. And it was like, what, you know, and I became a really, I was a bad guy, you know, they, a lot of those folks didn't like me after that and especially Bob Regel, but

that's another story for another day. But, uh anyway, when we moved in, and of course, we, we uh relied on all of our own labor, plus many, many volunteers and we busted through that wall and made the archway, we had to brick a good portion of

the floor because only a small portion of that floor in there, it was brick. And of course, we went out scavenging old bricks from everywhere we could and got enough. And we built this, I built that stage. It's been rebuilt since because I was no construction

genius, but uh, it lasted for many years. It was after I was long gone before they re had to finally, they had to rebuild it. And, uh, and uh we moved in and, uh I decided that this is going to be a listening club. Now, when

I was younger I had gone up, uh and was uh after high school the summer after high school, I had gone up to New England with a friend I was uh performing with, uh, before I met Harry Oswald, I was performing with a fellow named uh

Billy Myers and he, uh he didn't play much guitar, but he was a, a good blues singer and a harmonica player. And we went up to uh Massachusetts and we wound up staying for a couple of weeks at a place called the Fort Courage Coffee House

in Whiteville, Massachusetts. And uh they were a dedicated listening club. So every and they had music every night, seven nights a week. And uh we were just flopped up in the hippie pad up above it. It was an old carriage house uh behind a mansion that

had been converted. And uh uh they let people know when you came in, there was a big sign, this is a listening room. You know, we do short sets. So you have plenty of time in between sets to converse with your pals, get up, get your

beer, have your food. But when the musician starts, we'd appreciate your cooperation to keep a level of respect for what this artist is trying to do. And they were presenting a lot of singer songwriters. Uh They weren't exclusive to singer songwriters, but they did because they,

a lot of people did cover material and so forth too, but it was so refreshing and it was like, oh, this is kind of like it was at Sand Mountain except that they're just telling you up front that, you know, please zip it up or maybe

you need to go to another club, uh where there's darts and pool. So which uh and I just always was impressed by that. And as we traveled around, we up in New England, we saw a lot of clubs that were, were that kind of a policy

and it was so refreshing because when you're listening to someone whose art uh is in their lyrics as much as it is in their musicality, uh it was very nice. So I said this is what we're gonna be. We are gonna do this and we did,

we even had little, little uh like advertising tents that you put on the table like, but instead of it, this is our drink special. It kind of said you, you know, welcome to Anderson Fair. This is the only listening room in, in uh Houston. And, uh

we do appreciate, you know, we're bringing you artists whose, you know, we want you to enjoy their craft. And that's why we're here and it worked, you know, people caught on with the idea and of course, the musicians liked it, you know, because they didn't have

to, uh, uh, fight with the rowdy crowds and, and we were sustained, I mean, the people that put Anderson Fair on the map and we were already getting to be a good reputation, uh, when we were still just a little room. But once we started, we

opened up to the big room and we had a lot of people like David Rodriguez, Michael Marcu, Don Sanders, Bill and Luc O cade who had followings that followed, you know, that went to their shows wherever they were and they really appreciated it. And those are

the people that really put us on the map and allowed us to do what we did, uh, with bringing introducing new audiences because their following like the club so much that then we would say they would say, oh, who's playing next week? And we'd say, well,

you know, Joe Schmo is playing and they don't know who that is, you know, but, uh, you know, we'd say Betty Elders is playing or, or something like that or, or Vince Bell is playing well, who's he? You know, and, uh, well, come and see and

they knew well, you know, I'll come and see because they hired my favorite musician, Mike Marli. So, and I'll say if you like Mike Marli, well, you're gonna love Vince Bell and so they'd come back and then they started becoming fans of the place and they

could trust us that whoever was going to be playing, there was gonna be a writer and performer worth coming to see. And, uh, that's really what, what put us over the top and, and made us successful. Can you talk a little bit of what, like day

to day life was like there? Well, I guess the statute of limitations is over for most things or anything that we were doing there. So, no, a day, a typical day would be there. Uh, we'd get up. Uh, and, uh, luckily I, I managed to, uh,

several of us lived right next door to Anderson Fair where you could go out the back door of the restaurant onto the patio and you could squeeze through a little spot in the fence and get to my back door and just a few steps into that

backyard and you're up my steps and that's where I live. And, uh, I lived there, another one of my partners lived there. Uh, and we would get up early in the morning, usually seven clock or so and come over and the very first thing we'd do

is sit down and have coffee. We would crank up that coffee maker and drain it. And it was a, a, a wonderful thing. It was called the brand of, it was a diplomat. We'd always have a meeting with the diplomat and we'd sit around and do

crossword puzzles and talk about the state of affairs of the day. And then uh we would get started on making the spaghetti. We would, uh we'd have to make a batch of spaghetti every day and we wanted it to simmer a while before we serve it.

You know, you don't want to serve it. If it hasn't stewed for a while, we would open up at 11 to start selling all the spaghetti salad and garlic bread you could eat and it was like ridiculously cheap. Uh When I first started there, it was

a buck and a quarter for all you can eat and it was good. And uh we would, uh we even had and, and of course, we, we had wines to go with it. Uh We had a great wine um list uh maintained by a wine salesman.

His name was Max Porsche. Uh and he was a European uh fellow and uh he had an excellent taste in wine. And so he could, he provided us with a wine list, everything from cheap wine that we could sell for 50 cents a glass all the

way up to bottles of wine that we could get $15 for. And, uh, and we served beer in bottles of Shiner Pearl and Lone Star Texas beers. And we, we sold beer for a quarter. Uh, when we first, when I first was there, it was, beer

was a quarter and then it went up to 50 cents and it stayed at 50 cents for a long time. And we also any of the musicians in town who would come in and we'd feed them for free. If they didn't have any money, you know,

come over and get some spaghetti, you'll pay us back someday. You know, you'll bring, you know, when you get famous, you'll still come back and play and bring crowds in who are gonna buy stuff at regular price. And they did, I think they did because several

players that played there went on to have really impressive careers for the genre that they were in. And, uh, but that was a typical day and of course, we'd always be sitting around the restaurant, uh, before we were open, we'd be smoking marijuana in, in the

restaurant itself when no one was there out on the patio. When, when customers were there, we go on the back patio as it used to be open to the public. But then we decided, you know, let's just keep the patio for ourselves. That's our break room.

And that's where we can go back. And any time we feel like it, we can smoke pot back there. And uh uh of course, we, we had, we would have after hours parties where there would be all kinds of uh consumption of marijuana going on. We

had, we were famous for our hot knife parties and a hot knife party would consist of, we'd get, we had a big old Vulcan commercial stove, gas range, six burners on top and those things, we, we'd crank those up and we had these machetes and people

would always see these machete cross machetes on display on the wall in the kitchen. And of course, they were all burnt up and really gnarly looking. And, uh, people always wondered what, what do we do with those knives? Well, we would, we would, uh, put those

knives over the burners of those gas stoves and get them hot. We'd even take those, uh, little propane torches and light them up and we'd get those things glowing red hot. We would take this marijuana. That was really poor quality stuff. I mean, what we used

to call Mexican dirt weed and we'd take it by the handfuls and throw it on those blades or those knives cross them. And it would just be billowing smoke, filling the whole kitchen up. People standing around in a crowd with, uh, uh, paper towel tubes so

you can lean over the people in front of you over their shoulder, suck this smoke up through these paper towel tubes. Pretty decadent stuff. We could, we could burn up a pound of marijuana in a night doing stuff like that. And of course they all, it's

all full of seeds. So the seeds are popping, flying all over the place, landing on people's clothes and their hair. One night, Robbie Franklin, his hair got set on fire and he had this busy bushy head of hair tied back in a ponytail and it caught

fire. Someone, uh, poured a quart of chocolate milk on his head to put it out. It was, it was some pretty hilarious stuff and of course, we are so stoned. We're just making absolutely no sense. But, you know, so it wasn't all hard work and struggling

to make the restaurant go. You know, we were, we were, uh, having parties and parties and, uh, you know, people would never understand why, you know, they'd be coming and knocking on the door, you know, and they'd be like there's people in there, but they're not

answering the door. But the sign says open, you know, because nobody had remembered to put the close sign up. So it was, uh, we were fairly decadent folks. What can I tell you? Uh, Steven Gerrard had the perfect, uh, summation one day. He said, you know,

we're, we're all having our retirement now, we're gonna all end up as decrepit old people that are working until we drop because we're never gonna have a cent to retire on and the place never made any real money for a while. I got pretty serious about,

uh, when we, when we, after we opened up the music room for about a year, uh, and things were starting to go pretty smoothly and the restaurant didn't know it was suffering. And back when I was younger, I had done a lot of work in restaurants

And, uh, I had even, uh, I had worked a long time as a part time employee at Howard Johnson's one in Bel Air. And, uh, they even wanted to send me to college. They said when you graduate from high school, you know, we, we wanna, Howard

Johnson has got a scholarship program. They wanted to send me to the University of Michigan, which had the first school of hotel and restaurant management back in the, uh, late sixties, they started that. And, uh, and I just said, no, I didn't want to do that.

I want to go out and be a folk singer. I should have done it, but then I wouldn't have had all this fun. And, uh, so anyway, but I, I got serious about the restaurant. So I handed off the music, uh, portion of the business to

one of our newer members. This fellow, his name is Roger Ruffcorn. And he was an interesting guy. We call him when we first met him, we call him California Roger he had come in and he had this most impressive voice. He, he uh also did a

lot of radio DJ work and while he was in California, he also said, he said, have you ever been to a porno movie and seen the advertisements for the coming features? No pun. Uh And, uh, and I said, well, probably, and he says I did the

voiceovers for all the porno movie trailers. He said so many people have heard my voice but he had that kind of a broadcaster's voice. He worked for KPFT, uh did the Crystal Egg Show and very, very nice guy. And he, and he took over the music

part and I took over the restaurant part and, uh, and while I took over the restaurant part, we even expanded the menu. We went from being just spaghetti, all you could eat. Uh, we started, uh six nights a week, we had a blue plate, special sort

of dinner and some of them were, we would have lasagna with appropriate trimmings. We had a Sunday roast beef dinner with uh mashed potatoes and green peas and dinner rolls. Uh Saturdays, we would have a full half of a barbecued chicken that we barbecued out on

our patio. Uh Wednesdays, we had meat loaf and all the trimmings with that. And we had another one, that was a special that uh francy files. One of the other uh owners at the time was one of her recipes. We just call it Francis Oregon special.

It was sort of like a combination beef stroking off in a, wrapped in a tortilla basically. And, uh, but we did, well, we would serve, we would sell out every night. We, we planned it so we could make 25 meals, 25 servings. And it always sold

out every, every time. But now I'm starting to wander. So I'm, I'm getting way, way off, far field here. So, no, you're adding, you're reality here information. No, I mean, it's interesting, you're adding kind of a different aspect than other people have talked about. Um, I

do have but I mean, that totally possible way. Um, I do have one question you talked about kind of the diplomat and the coughing warnings is that about, what about, when was the time that musicians started to come in in those early periods in the morning

and start kind of talking and sharing some, sometimes, you know, people would come in because they hadn't been to sleep all night. Most of the musicians would start coming in around the time. We actually opened to the public once in a while. Someone would be there

early just for whatever reason they had to be there. Like Eric Taylor used to come by early in the morning because he had a side job. He used to drive a school bus for special education kids. He drove the short bus and, uh, and he would

come by uh a lot and sit down and, and drink coffee. Uh But uh he was about the only one of the musicians that came, that would come by on a regular, fairly regular basis come early. But then we'd have all kinds of people. Uh Dan

Earhart, a keyboard player who was also known as Captain Macho on the radio Klol. And uh he had done other radio gigs uh before Jackie mccauley was another radio disc jockey who was also best friends with uh uh Sandy Mathis. So, one of the owners, uh

and she would come by early sometimes and have, have coffee with us and, but no, most of the, most of the musicians would start coming in, like red would start coming in. Uh And uh I think we probably gave rab a free plate of spaghetti at

least four times, four times a week, if not more. So, uh and other people would come by and, and from time to time, if someone was gonna play uh a show, uh an evening show, uh which would probably start at about eight. You know, they'd probably

come in early uh to get warmed up, smoke joints out on the patio and get ready to play in a couple of hours early and we'd visit and we'd talk the music business and uh what they were gonna do what their plans were. They, they tell

us stories about the whatever songs they were working on at the time. And, uh, most of the time musicians hung out though was after the gigs, people would hang out because they knew it was always a party after, at, uh, at Henderson Fair and everybody would

be completely smoked up, you know, three in the morning or something. We'd wind up driving off, go over down telephone road on the east side, go to and have chicken fried steaks or breakfast or go to the ones a meal over on Gray by the River

Oaks theater and do the same sort of thing. Go stagger. Get staggering home sometime near sun up or? Um So if there's anything else you wanna say about Anderson Fair before we move on to the booking agency time. Uh Anything else that you feel like needs

to be covered? Uh No, not really. I, I mean, it may come up, see, we may say something later down the road that will jog my mind to, to revisit. Ok. Well, then do you wanna talk about your booking? Yeah. Uh I had uh always had

kind of a long term plan that uh Anderson Fair would become more than just the restaurant and music venue. Uh uh Tim Leatherwood had joined our corporation not long after Roger Ruffcorn did Roger also had with his radio experience. He knew a lot about recording. Tim,

of course, genius when it comes to recording and sound. Um And I always thought, well, you know, why don't we start producing live records as a routine thing. I think of course, I don't remember when it was, but Nancy Griffith made a, made a uh an

album, a major release album from there. Before that Don Sanders, we did a small what was called an EP on a vinyl disc four song uh EP that was recorded there. And uh Peter Gorsh had uh been the principal engineer with that. I think Roger probably

had something to do with it too. And uh maybe some other folks on the technical end that Don brought in from outside. And it's just like, why not do start doing this, producing the records, live records for the people that were our regulars that they could

market and why don't we also, we had heard things about a lot of folk clubs are on what we call circuits uh that like, you know, 456 players who perform at your club regularly might want to start doing an exchange with, say a club in Austin

and have some of their players come here, our players go there, do it even further. Go, go to Dallas, go to San Antonio, uh out of state, go to Michigan, New England, Georgia, California and try to get a network of uh of musicians and affiliated clubs,

separately owned but affiliated clubs. I mean, that's the kind of thing I was thinking about wanting to do grandiose and probably, you know, never workable even in the best of times that would have never happened. But, you know, it was a great dream to dream when

you're smoking pot and doing hot knives in the middle of the night. But, uh, anyway, so I decided I was gonna, we had also taken on some other partners. We, we took on a lot of partners at one time and we took a, a partner in

a guy named, uh, his last name is Heller. And I'm having a hard time remembering his first name, but he turned out to be a real mistake. Uh And I blame myself a lot for it. Uh But once he was in, he started trying to say

that our food was crap and he wanted to change our menu. He wanted to make the place into a vegetarian restaurant. He wanted to do this and that he didn't care much about the music. And uh I finally had had my fill of him and uh

no one could be fired really. You know. So I decided, you know what I'm gonna start, I, I stayed in it but I cut back my activities and I started wanting to work with musicians and I had had the, the grandiose scheme of starting a booking

agency and uh doing a, an, a sampler album that I would be able to use to uh as a promotion piece to send out to try to book the act. And I wound up, I had, I had had originally planned to do it as two record

set and to have not only the five people that ultimately showed up on it, which were Don Sanders, Eric Taylor Lynn Langham, Bill Cade and Steve Gerrard, Steven Gerrard, excuse me. And uh I had also intended to have Vince Bell. Lucinda and uh George Insley. Well,

um by the time I got the wheels going well, Lucinda and Vince Bell already had some other very tantalizing opportunities that, you know, were way, way out of my league. Um So, you know, they were, of course not very interested in it. And, uh, you know,

the co uh realizing what actual costs were going to become for even a one record. And, uh, and the challenges of putting the five people I had already committed to having five artists with three songs, 15 songs on a 12 inch vinyl disc. And I just,

I never even really talked to George and I think I might have hurt his feelings because of course, he knew about the project and I, and I had been friends with George for a long time. We grew up on the same block out in Sharpstown when

I was 13 and he was, I think just a year older than me or maybe two. I think he might have been in my older brother's age group. And, uh I always felt guilty about that, you know, and, uh, but of course, George is a good

guy, he doesn't, you know, and he did very well without me. And, like, the best thing I guess I can say about the whole affair was that I did, I don't think I hampered any of the careers of those five folks because I was not cut

out for that. But we had, it was a successful record though, uh, extremely successful. I'd say, uh, uh, Bob when we released it, Bob Claypool, uh, who was, uh not only just the local Houston post writer and he was the number one reporter on the music

beat in Houston for all types of music. He loved it. And, uh, and gave us an incredible review. Uh, in the Sunday paper is huge, huge review. And, uh, that gave us a lot of mileage and we had really not much trouble selling all of the

albums that were for sale. Uh We had 1000 records pressed and there was a few overruns that didn't have the, the cardboard cover on the outside, but they had at least the label telling you what songs were on each side. There's probably about a dozen or

so extras. And, uh, over the course of things I gave away about 100 and 75 of them, uh, to, you know, some, I gave a couple to each one of the people on the record, of course, radio stations, magazines, newspapers, and then also clubs all over

the country. I sent them out to uh I went to a, I went to one of those showcases for colleges that they would, you know, all these colleges would go to a uh big fair as it were a three day uh convention where they'd have live

performers. I even got one of my uh players, uh Don Sanders got to do a live show on the main stage uh at the thing and we get, we secured a few bookings out of that, but it, it was pretty hard and, and I, that's what

made me realize how inadequate my efforts were gonna be because I mean, there were people that had a lot of savvy and a lot of advertising expertise and all of the uh uh paraphernalia that you need to, you know, posters and everything that you have uh

for your artists. And I had virtually nothing. I mean, I had one little brochure, you know, that encapsulated all five of the people and the a and plus the agency and I mean, that was like, pretty pathetic, you know, when you come right down to it,

I just had no idea how deep the pool was I was getting into, excuse me. And so, uh it didn't take long for that for the booking agency to fail. And uh but that record was wound up being pretty successful, uh sold 825 copies in just

a matter of a few months. Uh all sold locally nowadays. I mean, I've seen it on, I've seen it offered on ebay and places like that for as much as uh $450 you know, and people wanting it. I had uh one time, several years, uh probably

about 15 years after the release. Uh Huey P mo contacted me, uh who was a fairly well known uh record producer and he wanted to reissue it and the only problem was I lost the master copy of it. Uh The tapes were gone. Uh I have

no idea what happened to him. Uh I tried to, uh, we had a, uh, there was a 20 year reunion, so actually it was even longer than 15 years because it was after the reunion. Um, uh Linda Lowe organized a 20 year reunion at Anderson Fair

of the release of the record and she flew me down from Tennessee to attend it. And, uh, part of what I did to help her cover the cost of my airline round trip was I brought, there was still some of those uh, discs that had no

cardboard sleeve. And so I brought all those and I told her she could sell them. Uh, you know, and I had them in the original box and that's the, and I think it might have been the same box that I had the tapes in. I had

put the tapes, you know, there was a cardboard sleeve, you know, just a piece of cardboard, you stuck in the box before you put the records in. And then before you close it, there was another piece of plain cardboard you put over the top of them

before you seal the box. And I had taken two of those cardboards and the reel to reel tape was in a uh styrofoam, thin styrofoam uh enclosure. And I put a piece of cardboard over each of those and uh sat them down in the, in the

bottom of the box and put the records on top. And I think they were in that box that I gave to Linda Lowe, but just looking at it, you might not know that's in there. Have you pulled all the records out? You just look up a

piece of cardboard and, uh, and she probably threw them away not knowing they were there even, you know, and if that's indeed where they were because I can't be 100% sure that that's where they were. So, uh, so when Huey Mo called me after that, it

must, it was several years after that event that he called and wanted to have it read reissued. And I'd say sorry, I said, maybe Charlie Bickley, who was the, uh, who used to own Red Shack Studios that, that uh Romano now has, uh, that's where we

recorded it. And I said, maybe he has some raw tapes that it could be re put together. And I said, get in touch with him and I never knew what ever became of it. Other than no, no rerelease was ever done. Oh, that's sad. It's sad.

But that's the way it goes. II, I was under the impression you might still have them. I wish, I mean, I have my own sealed copy. I do have one copy that I never opened. And, uh, I recorded onto a cassette because, I mean, cassette was

about the ultimate in the technology of those days other than having your own real to reel player. So I, I converted uh one of the spare discs. I went ahead and played it. Uh It's initial playing, uh take it, took it out of the little paper

sleeve that it came in and played it and recorded it on cassette, but that's so old now, it's deteriorating. So if I'm gonna ever hear it again, I'm gonna have to open up my sealed copy and play it. So, um can you talk a little bit

more about the uh kind of the production side through the dark nightly? Sure. Uh We uh went into Charlie Bickley Studio, uh Red Shack Studio, uh which is now Rock Romano's Place. And um we tried to do it in as few takes as we could. We

got some, uh Charlie Bickley and Pier Gorsh uh were the engineers and the whole technical side of the production was uh all their work because I have zero expertise in any of that sort of thing. And uh we did it at fairly bare bones pretty much

the artists with their guitars and their songs. Um I think we, uh we, I know that Lynn Langham asked Shake Russell to come play bass on her tracks. Uh and Pete Gorsh uh played bass on Don Sanders tracks. Uh Of course, they had worked together on

and off for a lot of years. Um And um we had, uh and I believe uh Eric might have had um some assistance. Uh some other, you know, I just really can't remember to tell you the truth. Uh And uh we had, of course, the, you

know, everybody, oh, I'm unhappy with that track and I'm just like, you're unhappy and I'm unhappy because that makes cost me more money every time we're doing a track. And of course, the thing went way over budget if it hadn't have been for my parents backing

me on the thing. And, uh that, you know, it would have never happened because I probably spent about 3000 of my own money and I probably had to borrow another 1000 a half from my folks. But still, that's even in those days, that was pretty inexpensive

to pay only about 4.5 $1000 to get 15 tracks and 1000 copies of the record out. So, uh it did make its money back because I think they, most of the, they were selling for about $10 a piece. So we sold about uh 825 records at

$10 a piece over a year. So I was able to pay my parents back. And of course, that was all the seed money for getting the brochures and everything like that. And uh we had some video tapes made of them in performance which you know, those,

those had to be produced with a lot of help from uh Carlos Camillo. I don't know if you know him, he's a, he used to be with Channel two news. He was a editor uh down there and of course, he helped me make some fantastic uh

videos of uh several of the artists including Don Sanders especially. And um anyway, it was by the time I was into the production of the album, I, I was through with uh Anderson Fair and, and uh and Mr Heller and I, I mean, I washed my

hands of it. So that was either late 76 or early 77. I was done and it really, I was sad to leave it, you know, I, I didn't like it, but again, I was just totally incompatibility there and he was definitely wanting to get rid of

me and talking bad about me and so forth. And so it's not worth it. And uh so it didn't take long for the whole uh booking thing to, to fail. But the only thing that kept one of the things that kept it alive was because I

got a phone call from the people that ran Hola hands number two over on West Timer. And they were a pretty raucous club, but they hired some of the same acts. So I went in, I said, well, you know, I have the booking agency and I

said, if you hire me here, I'm gonna be hiring my own act to play in here as often as I can. And they said fine because a lot of them were already playing there before I was in the agency. And so they were all acts that

they like to have play. So, and, uh, all my acts like to play there with pretty much, with the exception of Eric Taylor, didn't, didn't like to have to play in front of a noisy crowd like that, but he did several times. And so that, that

was the thing that I think that kept the, the agency alive because I wasn't getting them enough work. And of course I told them, I said, you know, we got nothing exclusive. If, if I get you the gig, I'll take my fee, but don't hesitate to

get your own gigs and you don't need to pay me anything. Obviously, if you get your own gig. So, uh, I worked there for, I don't know, the better part of, uh, maybe a year, maybe a little bit more. And, uh, I really didn't like working

there very much. I didn't like the people that uh were my bosses there. And uh one of my bosses had a person who was just a line cook and uh there was a lot of insubordination problems there and I it's not worth it. And, uh, anyway,

um, one of the interesting, a couple of interesting things about it. It was, like I said, it was a, it was another house that was uh converted a big old mansion on Westheimer. I can't remember the cross street that it was by, but it was pretty

close to the end of Westheimer where Southwest Freeway had an entrance right there, maybe just a couple of blocks and you'd walk it up to this porch and go through the glass doors with glass sidelights on either side. And uh there'd be a um uh to

the left, there was a jukebox and a staircase that went upstairs which was um, sometimes open to the public and sometimes not open to the public. But there wasn't a whole lot to do up there. There was a, there was an overflow restroom up there. I

think actually the men's room was upstairs and the ladies room was downstairs. And uh also the, the green room for the performers was up there. And uh at the after you've walked in, there's a serving window and kitchen, you can see a double serving window and,

and the kitchen where, and we serve burgers and chili and they had a great secret recipe for chili. I was never even allowed to know the recipe for it. And uh the owner came in and made the chili and uh uh it was pretty darn good

and they had great hamburgers. Uh One time we even got a write up in the uh short lived uh magazine called City magazine. And they had a picture of a big burger on the front and, and uh a story about who hands inside and a, we

sold a lot of beer and a lot of burgers. And, uh, and we also had music. It's off to the right. There was a, a room with a stage, uh, and there was a second room that also was, had a large opening the further from the

stage. But, uh, so a good number of people could see it had a, a bigger seating capacity. Uh, then Anderson, it by not a lot, but it was a little bit bigger and then it also had a patio outside and, and another side porch and then

a front patio, of course, that you really couldn't see the music or hear, you could hear it. I guess they had speakers out there and, uh, a pretty sizable stage. Uh, so they could even have bands, but we didn't have a lot of bands and I

guess the most memorable act I ever had there other than my own. Well, we had several good ones. We used to have Harden and Russell came in which, uh and it was the original Harden and Russell when the Harden of the group was a lady named

Patricia Harden and she would play a guitar, auto harp and harmonies and so forth. And then later on, it was a fellow named Andrew Harden was one of the hottest guitar players in, in the Americana scene. Uh And uh they were a very consistently top national

act that came in there. But uh real highlight was we had Red River Dave. I hired a fella named Red River Dave, who had the distinction of being the first entertainer to ever be on broadcast television in the New York World's fair where television was introduced

and other than a few uh politicians and uh people like that, the professors and so forth that would uh that had appeared on broadcast television. He was the first entertainment act and he had his, his hit song at the time was uh farewell to you, Amelia

Earhart, uh First Lady of the Air. And it was a big hit. It was shortly after Amelia Earhart disappeared. And so, uh I got to hire him as a, as a musical act to play and he was actually very good uh in a real folksy, folksy

sort of way. And I changed the jukebox from being a all rock and roll juke box to uh uh a jukebox where we had mostly big band American songbook, classic standards. And then a lot of folk rock and, uh, Bob Dylan and Joan Baez and all

that. And the owners thought I was crazy to do that yet, after we had established that as the jukebox, the jukebox company said that, that jukebox made more money than it had ever had in the past. And, uh, even after I was gone, they kept all

that music on there. The number one song that got played there on the jukebox was, uh, in the mood, the original recording. So, how much longer did you actually spend in Houston around this time? Well, I wound up leaving Houston. Well, I got married in 1980

I had to have real work and I went to work for a company where I was, uh, delivering a patio and pool furniture. I did that for several years and then the Reagan recession came along and that kind of got scaled back and, uh, I wound

up out of that job. Um, and I decided I wanted to go back and see if I could revive the restaurant in the Anderson Fair because over time, over that period of time, they shut down their food operations altogether. They had no more spaghetti lunch. It

was not even, not even open at all for lunch. And in the evenings when they would open up all they were serving was like, uh, chips and hot sauce and maybe, uh, bacon wrap stuff, jalapenos and maybe, uh, quesadilla or something like that. Just basically the

most basic snack food for bars, you know. And, uh, I thought, well, you know, maybe I'd like to, uh, try to get back and, uh, revive that. And by then there were only two owners left and that was Jim Leatherwood and Roger Ruffcorn. Now, part of

the, uh, deal with the Blue Squirrel Corporation had been any ex corporation stockholder who sold their shares out was supposed to be allowed to come back and rebuy their shares. And I went to Tim and Roger and uh I asked him to come back in and

much to my, I was really brokenhearted. Uh They did not want me to come back and I was pretty crushed. Uh And uh, that kind of created a bit of a rift for a couple of years. I went, I found another job that I could work.

I worked at a local hardware store for a couple of years and then lost that job. And uh by then, uh we had had a son who was born in 1983 and it was getting close to him, starting to go to kindergarten and work was hard.

I didn't want him to go to a Houston inner city school. We lived in the inner city and we lived in Montrose the whole time. And uh I decided, you know what, let's, let's just leave Houston, let's leave the big city. And I went to Johnson

City. Tennessee. And uh uh also in 83 besides my son being born, I started going back to college and taking uh, uh part-time classes with the idea of becoming a teacher and, and, uh, there was a fairly low priced college in Johnson City and I knew

I was gonna be able to get in-state tuition. Uh, even though I really was, you know, they didn't usually grant you in-state tuition status just after you moved there, you usually had to establish residence for over a year, but I managed to wrangle it and that's

another story. But, uh, and so, um, when I went back to, um, East Tennessee State University, they had a program, uh, of bluegrass music where their college of music would allow you to earn a college degree with an emp in music with an emphasis on bluegrass

and old time music. Now, I had never had any formal training in music so I couldn't even get it. I could not get accepted to be a music major. There would be no way but you could take it as elective credit. So I wound up for

five semesters, uh, uh, starting in, uh, I guess that was 88 uh, 87. I was, uh, the second semester, 87 both semesters, 88 both semesters. 89 I was in the East Tennessee State University bluegrass band and not that bluegrass had ever really been my forte. I

played a little bit of it back with my, uh, the New Lost Ozone Rangers. So I knew some of the songs that were standards and, uh, pretty much all I had to do was pass an audition to show that I could play the guitar in a

bluegrass tempo, but not, I was never a lead player. Like I, in five semesters, I never took a single, uh, instrumental break. But they, they, uh, they were happy to have me because I, I was, uh, I could sing and I sang out loud. Now, all

the other players in those bands could, could sing, but a lot of them couldn't project the way I projected and they just didn't want to all, they, they wanted to concentrate on their, on their playing. So, uh, the program was run by a fellow named Jack

Pottle who had been an old folk musician and from, uh, the New England area and we had a mutual friend, uh, Bill Staines very, very well known. Am, he's a legend in folk music. Uh, and, uh, they had been friends up in the Boston area. And

so, uh, uh, that helped my bona fides when I wanted to get with the band. And, uh, then there was a Doctor Richard teen who, uh, was also part of the, uh, uh music program and he played fiddle and I got to play with some really

fantastic musicians, uh, who in those, uh, in those 2.5 years that I did that, uh, played with, uh, Tim Stafford who, uh, wound up heading up the, uh, multi Grammy award winning band, Blue Highway. I also played, uh, with Barry Bales, who is the bass player

for Alison Kraus in Union Station. And he's also done several albums with Dolly Parton and, uh, a host of other, uh, fabulous, uh, uh, country and bluegrass musicians. He's one of the top, uh, studio, uh, uh, bass players in Nashville. Uh, and, uh, another fellow who

got even more popular than any of them, who I got to say, I always thought I was pretty much the least qualified of any player in the whole five semesters of being on that bluegrass band except for one guy who probably had less talent than me,

only one guy. And he became the most famous musician of all because that was Kenny Chesney and, uh, you know, who represents everything that's wrong with modern country music is kind of there. He is Mr Kenny Test. And the only good thing though was back then,

he was just a young fella. He was 18 years old and he was as country polite. Yes, sir. No, ma'am kind of kid you'd ever meet. And, uh, that's the only time I ever had any contact with him was, uh, in 1989 when, in both the

semesters in 89 he was in the band and he was just as humble as he can be. And I never saw him again in my life, but I do know that he is not a humble and polite young man anymore. And I could tell a few

other stories that I know about him since because I've had other people that I know who have performed in his bands. But again, that's another story for another day and I don't want any lawsuits. Yeah. So, uh, yeah. And then II, I always tried to play,

uh, and I've, I've, I had a band up in Johnson City, Tennessee where I lived. And, uh, we were called Little Trout, which was my childhood nickname when I was in elementary school. And, uh, and, uh, we had a lot of fun but we never really

played much anywhere. And, uh, as my family grew older, my son went off to college at the University of Tennessee and became an engineer, bridge building, and bridge, construction engineer, uh, with the State of Tennessee Highway Department. And he and his wife gave us, gave my

wife and I a grandson, uh, in, uh, 2012. And, uh, just less than a month before I turned 62. So the day I turned 62 my wife and I retired and moved to Nashville to help raise my, my grandson in the last couple of years I

have been spending going out and now that we don't take care of the grandson, uh, as much because he's in school now, uh, I go out and sampling the music, uh, that Nashville has to offer and I don't pay anything, pay any attention really at all

to what goes on on 16th Avenue and Music Row because it, it ain't much to put it bluntly. Uh, bro, country is not my cup of tea. And that's what's popular on the radio. Although they do have a wonderful little bar down there called Bobby's Idol

Hour. That uh has a lot of the old, old timers show up there to play these old users that are even older than me and can barely hold the guitar anymore. But it's still a pleasure to go see them. Plus a lot of new acts, uh,

some Texas acts come up there. I've seen Chuck Hawthorne, Libby Coke, uh come up and play occasionally there and I love to go see him. There's a lot of great music coming out of East Nashville, the other side of the River for Music Row. And there's

a lot of great stuff happening there. And I can just mention a few names, uh, uh B Taylor and, uh, Cody Brooks, Aaron Lee Taz, who spent about a half a year, uh, back, uh, opening up shows and playing in Ray Wiley Hubbard's band. Uh John

Latham fellow that I met playing just as a solo act about 18 months ago. And just last week, he was, uh, performing as a backup guitarist and vocal harmonies with Elizabeth Cook at the Ryman auditorium. Uh and uh so I've run into a lot of great

talent and a whole uh record label called uh uh Cafe Rooster Records that uh has a whole stable of people that are very good. Uh Sally J and the ladies' Gun Club and her husband, Brian Wright, who run the label and they have Darren Bradbury uh

on their label and they have John Latham on their label, have several other great up and coming performers on their label. And there's also a fellow on his own label named John Bird, who is uh sometimes he plays as a solo, sometimes he's with an act

called Birds Auto Parts. The most country man playing in Nashville today because he sounds more like uh Merle Haggard. Then, then uh then he sounds like Kitty Chesney. OK. He's everything that Kenny Chesney ain't which makes him real country well. Uh And there you have me

in a nutshell except for the things that I can't remember anymore. Why do you think Houston generated such a unique folk scene? That's a good question, which is I learned in speech communication. That's what you're supposed to say when you don't know what you're gonna say.

That's a good question. I'm glad you asked that. But I don't know. I, I really could hardly tell you that if there's really a reason or whether it was just serendipity, it just happened that a lot of people were coming together and they did it in

Houston, they did it in Austin. Uh, which, between the two, made the Houston music scene. Uh, it wasn't just the kind of music I was most interested in. We had everything. I mean, look at the top, look at, uh, you know, the great, I mean, even

more modern, you know, there's a bunch of, uh, bunch of big stars that are from Houston. Uh, uh, what's her name? Beyonce. Beyonce. Yeah, that's not my kind of music, but I mean, you can't deny that she excels in her genre, you know. Uh It's just

always been a great town, a lot of great blues comes out of here, uh, you know, via people like, uh, well, of course, somewhat more East Texas but, uh, man lips Lightnin Hopkins. Uh and, uh, we just, I just can't really put my finger on, on

a, uh, so I'm not really glad you asked that question now, making me look kind of like an idiot, you know, but I don't know what caused it, but I'm just glad that it happened. I'm glad that I was able to at least be on the

periphery, uh somehow of that scene and, and to have met all the great performers that I've met, I kind of feel like I'm living a, uh, you know, a Forrest Gump kind of life. All the people that I've got to, uh to be with and I

didn't even mention the fact that you know, one of my heroes from when I first started listening to folk music, Doc Watson, when I was with the bluegrass band, I actually got to, we opened the show for Doc Watson and Doc Watson had us come on

stage to play two songs with him. We played mama don't allow and will the circle be unbroken. And here I am on stage right next to Doc Watson singing harmonies on those two songs. And I mean, and a person of as little talent as I think

I have in that area to be able to do that. There's not a lot of people that can say they did that. And I'm pretty, I'm pretty stoked about it any time I think about that. But now why did it happen here? Why did it happen

in Austin? I don't know why did it happen in New York City? There's a lot of people you bring all, you know, you get, you get a couple of million people in one spot and you're bound to have a lot of good musicians come out of

that and there's just a lot of tradition. There's always been a lot of good music uh happening in Houston, you know, from before I was ever born. Uh There was great music happening here and in Austin. OK. Do you have anything else that you wanna cover

or talk about? Uh just in case I said anything too disparaging about uh about uh uh the current owner of Anderson Fair who, uh, Tim Leatherwood, who owns it. Now, the one, you know, again, we had, I, I did allude to some friction that had happened

between us but, you know, I, I do have a, a respect for, for him in the fact that he, he kept the place true to what I always wanted to see happen. I mean, he doesn't have lousy acts come and play. He never turned it into

a comedy club. He never turned it into a, a disco. He never, he kept it as a, uh, a, a format that's a listening room for singer songwriters, uh who can bring their talent and original music to an audience that wants to hear it and he

doesn't promote the place very much. He's, he seems just as happy to have five people in the audience as he does to have a packed house. I don't think he, he obviously he doesn't do it for a living. He has other areas where he earns his

money and pays his rent from. And uh so I wouldn't want anybody to think that, you know, Tim and I are enemies. I do have a lot of respect for his abilities and again, keeping it true to what it should have been. And I got you.

Now when you're an adult, you get over that kind of stuff, you get, you have heartbreaks and you get over it, you have lost loves and you get over it, you know. And, uh, I'm just glad that Anderson Fair is still there and I hope it'll

still be there long after I'm gone and Tim is gone. I hope there'll be somebody else that will pick up the mantle. I would love to see it turned into a public trust even to see it become a charitable organization with the board of directors, you

know, who will keep it going for generations to come. And I would just, I, you know, I've never talked to Tim about it. Of course, we don't talk business. You know, we have a, you know, we get along. I go to see him. I've seen him

several times since I've been down here in Houston this time. And, uh, you know, we're fine, we worked fine for a couple of years. Well, I want to thank you so much for coming in and this is really great. You had to provide a lot of

wonderful information. Well, I, I was pleased to be here and very proud to be able to help out this project. I think you were doing wonders for the reputation of Anderson Fair. And I know you're one of the many, many volunteers who goes down here and

serves beer to folks. Thank you so much.