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Introducing the first of hopefully many guest posts by TSY’s good friend and resident menswear savant– Mr. Eli M. Getson. Eli and I worked together years ago at Polo Ralph lauren– I always appreciated his quick smile, incredible humor, and fun-loving style.  Mr. Getson has long been threatening to contribute to TSY with his own nostalgic ramblings & rants on sports, music & menswear– and now he’s finally making good on his word.

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Tao can be roughly translated into English as path, or the way.  It is basically indefinable–  referring to a power which envelops, surrounds and flows through all things, living and non-living.  The Tao regulates natural processes and nourishes balance in the Universe.  It has to be experienced in order to be truly understood.

For me, no other athlete better embodies this “flow” — using the natural passive power in the universe that flows through all of us and turning it into kinetic energy — than Julius “Dr. J” Erving. I will never forget watching him back in the day– high socks, short shorts, Converse high tops, his luxurious Afro blowing slightly back as he elevated, and the red, white, & blue ball of the ABA held in his massive hand so it looked like a grapefruit as he prepared to ascend to the hoop to wreak utter devastation on the opposition, and leave the earthbound mortals unable to do anything except gape in awe.

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If you weren't following pro hoops at the time, you simply can't imagine the excitement generated when Dr. J, the ABA legend, moved from the New York Nets to the NBA's Philadelphia 76ers before the 1976-77 season. Remember that games were rarely televised back then, so most of America had only heard tales of the graceful 6-7 forward with the big hands and the gravity-defying artistry. When folks first saw Dr. J, their eyes popped: It seemed as if he could temporarily suspend himself in air while coasting from one side of the basket to the other. And thus was born the concept of "hang time." --SI Vault, image by JD Hanlon

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For me, the Doctor is and will always remain the most stylish of athletes.  The rare cat who made it look easy, even though it isn’t; a creative soul who showed you could showcase your individual gifts and still be part of a team; and the embodiment of that often abused word — FLAVOR.   While I respect the fact that a lot of those who came after — MJ, Dominique, Kobe, LeBron, Vince Carter etc. — can perhaps elevate higher and dunk harder– none possess the flow and graceful moves of the Doc.  It is this, and this alone, that made Julius seem that he had tapped into the life force of the universe– hence his Tao.

Also, unlike a lot of his followers in the sport– Dr. J was not demonstrative after obliterating an opponent with a devastating dunk.  Many years ago I was in the old Philadelphia Spectrum watching the Sixers play an otherwise meaningless February game against the Atlanta Hawks.  The Hawks had a fine power forward named Dan Roundfield who somehow was locked-up with Julius on the baseline.  Julius took two dribbles, one huge step, and then elevated.  Roundfield backed off and leaped in the air to meet him and attempt to cut off Dr. J’s approach to the hoop– however he did not have Erving’s gift of flight and Julius just kept flying higher and proceed to reverse dunk, with two hands, on Roundfield. This was a facial of legendary proportions, and one that would have elicited much screaming, jumping, and chest-bumping today.  Doc just nonchalantly ran up the court as if nothing had happened, even if we all knew that something epic had just taken place.  Once again, Tao in practice– totally feeling the freedom and power, yet not having to go crazy about it, being totally in the moment.

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Classic 70’s style– Julius Erving with first wife, Turquoise, in happier days– love her chic head scarf. via Larry Berman

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In today’s world where information is available 24/7, and you can see the latest highlight on 50 different channels at 50 different angles, it’s refreshing for me to remember that for a large part of his career Julius performed in the shadows of the ABA– before the  NBA merger and pre cable.  His exploits are almost comparable to gunslingers like Wyatt Earp or Doc Holliday, many knew of them but few had seen them with their own eyes.   The legendary exploits of the Doctor only grew in magnitude and mythology  as I got older, and they got more distant in time.

– Eli M. Getson

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Alice Cooper drinks a beer as his two companions enjoy a glass of champagne in front of a white Rolls-Royce in Hollywood, California. -- Image by © Neal Preston

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When I was around 10 yrs old the family needed a new start, so we packed up and left upstate NY– headed out west.  We jammed everything we had, including the ol’ man’s ‘79 Harley Low Rider, into the back of a rusted-out old maxi-van and hit the road.  That cross-country trip is one I’ll never forget… After a quick stop in Anaheim, we set sight for Phoenix, AZ.  We didn’t have a whole lot of prospects, no job waiting or family to speak of.  But if you’re determined and willing to roll up yer’ sleeves and work your way up, you can get ahead in America– even now, no matter what people say.  Mom wasn’t above waiting tables to feed us kids, and badass biker man worked at a machine shop that ground-out those threaded connectors you see on the end of coaxial cable.  It was a nasty place– the oil flowing through the massive screw machines hung in the air like fog, and he’d come home at the end of the night shift soaked to the bone.  We started our new life in Arizona living out of a tent in the desert north of Phoenix.  It was pretty wild out there– you could sometimes feel the rattlers slither under the tent at night to cozy-up to the warmth of our bodies just on the other side of the thin tent floor.  Soon we had graduated from the tent to a trailer in Glendale, and finally to a modest rented home of our own on the west side of town– all thanks to a lot of elbow grease and grit.  I admire the work ethic and sacrifice my mom and stepdad put forth back then, and consider myself lucky to have been through all that I have, because I know I’m a survivor who can face most situations head-on and come out on top– or at least alive.

Try to put the screws on me, and I’ll screw right from under ya’.

I remember when we started to do pretty well as a family, and moved from the west side of Phoenix to the more affluent east side.  Well, I’d be lyin’ if I didn’t say that it felt like The Jeffersons– movin’ on up, brother.  I spent my formative years living, working, and carousing town– Biltmore, Arcadia, Paradise Valley and Scottsdale.  The Valley as they call it, while well populated and spread-out, still had a small town feel back then.  Now it’s mostly an endless, soul-less strip mall with a revolving door of comers and goers.  People around town knew each other back in the day, and put down roots.  And we had our share of local celebrities that you’d see out and about.  Guys like Rob Halford of Judas Priest, Glen Campbell, and you guessed it, Alice Cooper.  Where did I meet Alice Cooper?  Where else– at church.  Oh, and the car wash.  Alice is one of the nicest guys you’ll ever meet.  And a helluva golfer to boot.

Don’t go judgin’ a book by it’s cover.

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August 1978 -- Alice Cooper lays on the hood of a white Rolls Royce that is parked in the driveway of his then California home. -- Images by © Neal Preston

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Eric Clapton of Cream and Producer Felix Pappalardi during a recording session for the album Disraeli Gears at Atlantic Studios --- Image by © Michael Ochs Archives

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I’ll never forget the first time I saw a picture of Todd Rundgren holding what I immediately deemed to be the coolest guitar in the world.  I’m a bit of a guitar nut– I’ve got a nice little stable of beauties currently, and I tell myself that I’d play more if it weren’t for TSY and a few other distractions–  another thing on the list of things I’d love to do more frequently.  Anyway, the image of that majestic hand-painted Gibson SG was forever seared on my mind’s eye.  Later, I learned more about the coveted guitar– it’s creation by the hands of a 1960s Dutch design duo called the Fool, the mysterious changing of hands among notable guitarists over the years, and the recent sale to a collector who paid in the neighborhood of $500,000 for the legendary axe.  It’s amazing what a little paint can do…

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Eric Clapton of Cream, one of the hottest trios (along with the Jimi Hedrix Experience) on the 1960s.

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From The Saga of Eric Clapton’s Famous Fool SG–

Todd Rundgren was completely blown away the first time he ever saw the guitar. That was back on March 25, 1967, hanging from Eric Clapton’s shoulders. Cream was on-stage at the RKO Theater making its American debut as part of disc jockey Murray the K’s Music in the Fifth Dimension extravaganza. Rundgren was in the audience and the Gibson mesmerized him. Eric, in fact, had just started using the SG. Part of the mythology insisted that the paint was still tacky during this spectacular musical concert revue that also included the Who, Mitch Ryder, Wilson Pickett, the Blues Project and Smokey Robinson and the Miracles.

That was a little difficult to believe but the fact remained that Clapton had purchased the guitar only a few months earlier at the beginning of 1967. This would become his main axe for the next two years. Eric would use the cherry finish double cutaway for both live and studio work; it would be featured prominently on Disraeli Gears and would also appear on Wheels of Fire, Goodbye, and on the subsequent live albums, Live Cream and Live Cream Volume II.

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August 29th 1967, San Francisco -- Psychedelic rock band Cream performs at the Fillmore Auditorium. -- Image by © Ted Streshinsky

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The legend of the Psychedelic SG ― as it was sometimes referred to ― was oft-told and varied from telling to telling. Clapton’s Les Paul Standard had been stolen and replaced with this Gibson. Initially, everyone referred to it as a Les Paul SG. But they were wrong. Les Paul did not like the new SG design and asked that his name be taken off the model. By 1963, the guitars were known simply as SG Standards.

There were no Les Paul SGs in 1964.

Not only was it identified incorrectly model-wise, but everyone also goofed up the year. Originally, everybody thought it was a 1961; a close examination of the body revealed a sixth screw hiding just under the lower left corner of the bridge pickup. Prior to 1964, only four screws were used. That was the giveaway.

Clapton’s guitar, then, was a 1964 regular issue SG Standard.

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April 1967, New York — Eric Clapton of Cream recording “Strange Brew” at Atlantic Studios — Image by © Michael Ochs Archives

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When he first began playing the Gibson, the guitar was still fitted with the original Deluxe Vibrolo tremolo arm; Clapton simply fixed the mechanism in place. The vibrato bar was eventually removed and replaced with two other tailpieces: another Gibson tremolo with a flexible piece of metal instead of springs; and a non-tremolo trapeze-style unit.

The tuning heads were switched out from the standard-issue ivoroid Klusons to Grovers.

And then there was that trippy acid-influenced paint job by the Fool. A Dutch design collective and band (they released one eponymous album produced by Graham Nash), the original members were artists Simon Posthuma and Marijke Koger. The hippie pair had designed clothes and album covers for the Hollies, Procol Harum, the Move, and the Incredible String Band. But it was after seeing what they’d created for the Beatles pals that Eric fell under the influence.

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Simon and Marijke had psychedelicized one of George Harrison’s Stratocasters and transformed both John Lennon’s piano and one of his Gibson acoustics. They’d also illustrated an astonishing three-storey mural on one of the exterior walls of the Beatles’ Apple Boutique in London.

Eric saw that and knew immediately he wanted his recently-acquired Gibson SG turned Fool-ishly psychedelic. The original cherry finish was given a coat of white primer and then the oil-based paints were applied on top. Brushed-on enamels. Every inch of the instrument was painted including the back of the neck and even the fretboard.

Maybe not such a great idea at the time.

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The psychedelic graphic was as weird as it was beautiful.  A winged wood sprite with curls of fire sat astride a cotton candy cloud. His left hand grasped a triangle while his right hand held a spoon-shaped beater about to strike it. The arch of his right foot balanced gently atop a tone control, while the toes on his left pointed delicately downwards towards a pickup’s toggle switch. Yellow six-sided stars sprinkled against a sky of azure and aqua orbited him. Swirls, flames and gradient shades of blues, greens, and yellows danced across the instrument’s body. An orange orb dipped behind a burnt sienna mountain range that floated across the pickguard.

During live performances, paint chips literally flaked and flecked off the neck while Clapton played. Eventually, all the excess paint was permanently removed. Soon, Clapton began using Gibson ES-335s and Firebirds. One day, he simply left the guitar with George Harrison, who was a friend, and never returned for it.

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Eric Clapton in 60’s psychedelia with the fool guitar — Todd Rundgren perhaps playing tribute.

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Around June 1968, the Beatle, in turn, loaned it to Jackie Lomax. The singer was signed at the time to Apple Records and George knew he needed a guitar so he gave Jackie the legendary SG.

In 1971, while in Woodstock, New York, Lomax and Rundgren met at a session and became friends. Rundgren was astonished when he learned that Lomax owned that very same guitar he’d seen hanging from Eric Clapton’s neck. He told Jackie about seeing the guitar back in ’67 and what an impression it had made on him.

A year later, in 1972, to Rundgren’s shock, Lomax offered to sell him the guitar for $500. Lomax’s only caveat was that he had the option to buy the guitar back. A year passed and not a word was heard.

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Rundgren restored and sealed the body to prevent any further deterioration, replaced the rotting headstock, and retouched the paint. A fixed stop tailpiece was installed along with a Tune-o-matic bridge, Strap Locks, and new knobs. The guitar’s guts were left intact and none of the electronics, wiring, or pickups were touched. He named Sunny as a nod towards the instrument’s appearance on the Disraeli Gears track, “Sunshine of Your Love.” The Fool SG became his main instrument until it was retired in the late ’70s.

In 2000, Rundgren sold the Psychedelic Fool Gibson SG at a Sotheby’s silent auction, where it brought $150,000. This anonymous buyer re-sold the instrument several years later for an estimated $500,000.

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The Fool design collective also notably designed a little somethin’ for The Beatles–

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The Apple boutique with the famous “Fool” Mural that decorated the building back in 1967.

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October 16th, 1971, inside of two weeks before Duane's death on Oct. 29th. Gregg Allman, Duane Allman, & Berry Oakley above. Duane and Berry died in separate motorcycle accidents-- Duane in 1971 and Berry in 1972. So, I'm trying hard not to focus on the crazy shirts, but they're pretty smokin' man. Are they Nik Nik shirts?

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There’s an overwhelming feeling of worldly injustice and “what could’ve been”, when someone so gifted and young is taken from us like Duane Allman was.  The only consolation we have (and a sweet one it is), are the incredible tracks he laid down with The Allman Brothers Band, Derek and the Dominoes, and his session works in the studio with great artists like Aretha Franklin, King Curtis, B.B. King, and Clarence Carter.  And if you think he was just a great slide player and string bender– check out the blistering lead work on You Don’t Love Me.

I can’t believe that 38 years have already passed since the day Duane Allman hopped on his Harley after a party in Macon, Georgia– not knowing it would be for the last time.  He only got a few miles down the road, when a truck turned in front of him and Duane clipped it’s back end.  Allman lost control, and the Harley landed on top of him, sustaining injuries that would take his life within a few short hours. The lead guitarist of the Allman Brothers Band, who was gaining huge acclaim for his exciting and innovative sound and style, was dead at age 24.

Jerry Wexler’s eulogy for Duane sums it up best: “This young and beautiful man who we love so dearly but who is not lost to us, because we have his music, and the music is imperishable.”

Amen, brother.  Amen.

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November 24th, 1969, Muscle Shoals, Alabama -- Wilson Pickett and Duane Allman.

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The Allman Brothers at Fillmore East

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Berry Oakley & Duane Allman, July 1971

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May 5th, 1969, Muscle Shoals, Alabama -- Members of the Allman Brothers Duane Allman, Dickey Betts, Gregg Allman, Jaimo, Berry Oakley, Butch Trucks.

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Duane Allman on acoustic

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Duane Allman Fishing, circa 1971

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Duane Allman in the recording studio

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The Allman Brothers Band members perform at Duane Allman's funeral in Macon, Georgia 1971 -- Image by © Jeff Albertson

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The Allman Brothers Band live at Fillmore East 09/23/1970.  Unaired set from a PBS-TV special with Gregg Allman, Duane Allman, Dickey Betts, Berry Oakley, Butch Trucks, and Jai Johanny “Jaimoe” Johanson–

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October 16th, 1970, Muscle Shoals, Alabama -- The Allman Brothers, Gregg & Duane Allman/

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Duane Allman smokin' his Gibson Les Paul.

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Greg Allman, circa 1970s.

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Duane Allman passed out with his favorite guitar-- '57 Gibson Goldtop Les Paul.

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Gregg Allman on guitar, circa 1970s.

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Duane Allman on a Gibson SG.

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Dickey Betts, circa 1970s.

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Duane Allman wailin' on his Les Paul

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REMEMBER DUANE ALLMAN-- Memorial to Duane Allman on a roadside embankment outside of Vicksburg, Mississippi.

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The Oakland Motorcycle Club group photo in front of W.P. Williams Excelsior Motorcycles, circa 1910s.

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Founded in 1907, the Oakland Motorcycle Club has a long history & heritage of turning out hellacious old school hill-climbers, modern-day enduro jockeys, and all-around raucous riders. Checkout the tonnage of awe-inspiring vintage photos documenting their historical group shots, outdoor motor-sports, and runs galore on good ol’classic American iron– Indian & Harley Davidson motorcycles.

And if the bike action doesn’t get ya’, their gear-head meets The Great Gatsby style certainly will.

Bow ties,  shawl collars & jodphurs– oh my.

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Oakland Motorcycle Club members, circa 1920s.

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Oakland Motorcycle Club members on Northern California run, circa 1930s.

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Oakland Motorcycle Club members, circa 1930's. Mount Shasta in the background.

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Oakland Motorcycle Club members all decked out for a chariot race, circa 1920s.

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Oakland Motorcycle Club rider, circa 1920s.

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Motorcycle Polo, circa 1919.

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The Oakland Motorcycle Club enjoying a round of Polo, circa 1919.

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Oakland Motorcycle Club hill-climb event, September 28, 1924 on Peralta Hill-- Digging in with tire chains.

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Oakland Motorcycle Club hill-climb, circa 1924.

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Oakland Motorcycle Club hill-climber

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Oakland Motorcycle Club hill-climb event, circa 1924.

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Oakland Motorcycle Club hill-climb event, September 28, 1924 on Peralta Hill.

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Oakland Motorcycle Club hill-climb, circa 1924.

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Oakland Motorcycle Club hill-climb event, circa 1924.

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The Oakland Motorcycle Club in front of McCloud's Hotel in Clearlake., circa 1921.

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Oakland Motorcycle Club at Clearlake in McCloud's Hotel, 1924. Notice all the locals gawking at the bikers. Some things never change.

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As a boy growing up in the 1970s, I can tell you with absolute authority that there were two women who were on every pubescent boy’s mind– Farrah Fawcett and Cheryl Tiegs.  Sure, there were others– but Farrah & Cheryl were the cream of the crop.  And the major rite of passage was to have one of their epic posters up on your bedroom wall.  That was huge.  It showed you’d graduated from the land of legos and had entered the exciting, awkward, and confusing hormonal journey into manhood.  Are we there yet?

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The epic Farrah Fawcett poster, was it 1977?

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Farrah Fawcett was not only hot– she was also married to the Six Million Dollar Man, Steve Austin (Lee Majors).  That was major street cred.  Man, they were quite the couple.  Being Lee Majors definitely seemed like the perfect life — being all Six Million Dollar Man-like on TV during the day, and having the most coveted, incredible women as a wife waiting for you at home.  That definitely works.

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Hot rollers... the secret behind Farrah's fabulous hair.

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Cheryl Tiegs did not have a hot television show or celebrity husband, but no one seemed to mind.  She was the top model back then and seemed to be on every magazine cover, from fashion & beauty magazines to the annual Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue, in which she caused quite a stir. below–

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The epic and controversial Cheryl Tiegs mesh swimsuit shot from sports Illustrated.

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So who takes the honor of being the ultimate 1970’s cheesecake– Farrah Fawcett or Cheryl Tiegs?

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Top Farrah Fawcett photo VIA

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Bruce Lee, circa 1972.

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There are certain moments in life that you never forget.  Oddly, I still remember the evening when as a kid I got a glimpse of Bruce Lee on the tube in Game of Death. It was the immortal scene where Lee, at all of  5′ 7″, squares-off against 7′ 2″ basketball great Kareem Abdul-Jabbar and his unending Plastic Man-like reach.  My heart was pounding out of my chest, and I couldn’t take my eyes off the sinewy, screaming, leaping Bruce Lee– I’d never seen anything so crazy and exciting in all my short life.  He seemed more full of life, energy and determination than anyone I’d ever seen– yet, I was watching a man onscreen who had already passed away.  It seemed almost unbelievable that he was gone– I think that pretty much sums up the effect he had on a lot of people.  He was so skilled, entertaining and charismatic that you couldn’t take your eyes off him, because if you did– you might quickly miss out on something that’s never been seen before.  You were sure there was no one person in the world that could take Bruce Lee out.  He seemed to be invincible onscreen– which makes his mysterious passing all the more ironic.

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Original caption from 1966-- Bruce Lee, who plays Kato in ABC-TV's Fridays, (7:30-8 P.M., EST) springs into three of the basic positions of Kung Fu, the ancient Oriental art of self-defense of which Bruce is a master.

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There’s an interesting bit about Bruce Lee’s relationship with another Hollywood icon he hung out with– Steve McQueen.  Among the many stars that Bruce Lee counted as his pupils and friends (James Coburn, James Garner, etc.) none were bigger than McQueen.  Obviously both were highly competitive guys, so when Bruce Lee’s star began to rise it caused notable tension between the two that almost destroyed their friendship.

Bruce Lee was quickly becoming a hot commodity and his movie deal to make the now iconic Enter the Dragon was said to be considerably more than what Steve McQueen was pulling down for his current project, Papilon.  Apparently, this got McQueen’s nose out of joint.  Adding fuel the fire, Bruce apparently began to brag around town that he was going to be a bigger star than McQueen– which prompted the King of cool to fire-off an autographed picture to his little buddy Lee signed– “To Bruce, my biggest fan.”

Another bit– Bruce Lee is often credited with having taught Steve McQueen Jeet Kune Do, but McQueen was actually trained in the Korean art of Tang Soo Do by 9th degree blackbelt Pat E. Johnson. Apparently McQueen was not one to be messed with– unless you wanted to be peeled like a banana. Though he refused to test for his belt (worried he might find himself at the wrong end of a lawsuit, he didn’t want his martial arts awesomeness officially documented in case he ever had to crack open a can of whoop-ass on someone), those who were around at the time say he’d easily rank at the 3rd degree black belt level. Steve McQueen’s son, Chad, took lessons from family friends Chuck Norris & Bruce Lee– an honor I’m sure he could not have fully fathomed at the time.

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Bruce Lee on the set of "The Way of The Dragon", 1973.

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Bruce Lee and fellow martial arts legend Chuck Norris on left — Bruce Lee  & actor James Coburn on right

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Hollywood Actors James Coburn & Steve McQueen (in head to toe denim, topped with a Lee 101J)  were pallbearers at Bruce Lee’s Seattle funeral.

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Steve McQueen straightens a plaque on the casket at Bruce Lee's funeral, James Coburn is seen behind.

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At Bruce Lee's funeral on Capitol Hill, Grace Lee, mother of Bruce Lee, reaches out to touch her son's casket. At rear is an unidentified student of Lee's, with actors Steve McQueen and James Coburn, both pallbearers at the funeral on July 31, 1973.

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Johnny Cash at Folsom Prison, 1968.

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Let’s just finish out this week with Johnny Cash — if that’s alright with y’all?  Never can have to much of a good thing — and it just don’t get any better than this in my book.

It was 1968, and Johnny Cash was finally at a place in life where he was able to get a grip on his drug addictions — with the love and support of his wife June.  Johnny had always wanted to perform at Folsom — ever since he first recorded the tune Folsom Prison Blues back in 1957 for Sun Records.  After years of delays caused by management changes at  Johnny’s record label, and battles with his own personal demons, the time was finally right.

Backed by the legendary Carl Perkins, the Tennessee Three, not to mention June Carter Cash (a musical dynamo in her own right ), Johnny and company set out to California’s Folsom Prison to put on one helluva show (two shows actually) for the penned-up boys in blue.  The resulting live album At Folsom Prison was a huge success that reignited Johnny Cash’s career, and is an enduring classic that is hands-down required listening for all Johnny Cash, American Roots, and Country Western music fans.

From the moment you hear that “Hello — I’m Johnny Cash” and that guitar — you’re flat hooked, brother.

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Johhny Cash at Folsom Prison, 1968.

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Johnny Cash performing onstage at Folsom Prison, 1968.

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From Inside Johnny Cash’s Folsom Prison–

At Folsom Prison in 1968, Johnny Cash gave a concert that would later famously give his fans a peek inside prison walls.

Gene Beley was at the prison the day the record, Johnny Cash at Folsom Prison, was made. A friend had invited the young Ventura Star Free Press reporter to the concert, and Beley decided to bring along a tape recorder.

Beley’s recording is familiar, but it’s from an entirely new perspective: that of the audience. In an excerpt from his essay about the event, published this fall in The Virginia Quarterly Review, Beley recalls the night before the concert:

We arrived at the El Rancho Motel and checked in. Cash was nervous about the weather in Nashville. He feared that the snow and ice would make it impossible for Carl Perkins, the Statler Brothers, the Tennessee Three, and Columbia’s A&R man, Bob Johnston, to fly to Sacramento. So he called Nashville and found they had left and were laid over in San Francisco. While waiting for the others, we all met in one of our rooms. Reverend Gressett said he had a favor to ask of John.

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Johnny Cash at Folsom Prison with the Reverend Gressett, 1968.

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Johnny cash at Folsom Prison, 1968.

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“Johnny, I want you to hear a song written by Glen Sherley, an inmate in Folsom, serving five to life for armed robbery. You’ve been so busy that I haven’t had a chance to tell you about it but I thought if you could mention tomorrow that you’ve heard the tape, it would please that ol’ boy who wrote it.”

“Does anyone have a tape recorder?” Cash asked.

“I do,” I replied, and went to get the reel-to-reel Sony recorder that I had brought to record the concert for research purposes.

“All right, this is a take on ‘Greystone Chapel,’” a deep voice, similar to Cash’s own voice, said on the tape. Then the singing began:

Inside the walls of prison, my body may be,

But the Lord has set my soul free…

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Johhny Cash playing at Folsom Prison, 1968.

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Famous shot of Johnny Cash flipping the bird -- the night before the Folsom Prison show in his blue jumpsuit and cowboy boots, 1968.

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As the lyrics filled the room, accompanied by a bass beat from the prisoner’s guitar, Cash’s usual straight-faced, deep-creased cheeks began changing to a smile, with his eyes glowing, radiating enthusiasm.

There’s a Greystone chapel here at Folsom,

A house of worship in this den of sin.

You wouldn’t think God had a place at Folsom,

But he’s saved the soul of many lost men.

When the tape was finished, Cash said, “This has got to be recorded as a single, and I want to record it tomorrow on the album during the show.” Cash began scribbling the words down in a notebook and tried singing the phrase, while beating out the rhythm with one hand on his knee, the other hand tapping a pen on the desk.

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Johnny Cash and June Carter at Folsom Prison, 1968.

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Johnny Cash at Folsom Prison, 1968.

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That evening Cash was dressed in a blue jumpsuit and cowboy boots when his A&R man Bob Johnston and the other performers arrived.

“Do you ever work on a stool?” Johnston asked Cash.

“Yes, that’s what I plan to do,” Cash said.

“Are you going to have someone introduce you?”

“I thought I’d come out and introduce myself and sing.”

“Great!” exclaimed Johnston. “Come out and say, ‘I’m Johnny Cash!’ They’ll go wild!”

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Johnny Cash at Folsom Prison, 1968.

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Here’s Johnny performing the classic Folsom Prison Blues on his 1970’s variety show–

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OK, I can’t resist.  Here’s another classic A Boy Named Sue, this one live from San Quentin–

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Johnny Cash strutin' his stuff, jammin' on his Martin guitar, CA. 1959.

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I have a good friend of mine  (we won’t mention any names here, you know who you are), who can have his whole world crashing down around him —  and somehow, the guy just gets better looking.  It’s like stress is a magical elixir that slims, tones, and revives every cell in his body.  I just want to kill the guy.  Me — if I’m going through Hell, you can bet yer’ money that I also look like Hell.

Now Johnny Cash’s life wasn’t exactly a cakewalk back in the day.  Cash was touring like a banshee —  the marriage was crumbling — they (he and first wife Vivian) had 4 baby girls to take care of — he was partying like a fiend — he and his badass buddies, like Waylon Jennings, were taking every pill there was — he gets busted in El Paso for possession — you get the picture, the guy lived hard.  Yet, looking at these pictures, he looks simply amazing.  Cash’s style during this time, with his tight, slicked back hair and crisp, clean tailoring look unbelievable compared to the 1970s ‘bigger is better’ looks that were to follow. I will say though that once you get to 1965-66 — well, you can see that the effects are definitely starting to show on Johnny’s face.  All in all though, he had an amazing run even with all the crap going on, until it eventually caught up with him — and it always does.  God bless Johnny Cash.

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Johnny Cash backstage and his awesome custom Gibson with his name inlayed in the fingerboard.

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Johnny cash with his custom "Johnny Cash" Gibson guitar, Memphis, TN, ca. 1960.

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Johnny Cash holding a to guitar, sitting with daughters Rosanne, Cathy and Tara in 1960.

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Country singer Johnny Cash smokes a cigarette in his hotel room in White Plains, New York, ca. 1959.

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Johnny Cash passes the time in his hotel room by making a cat's cradle with a piece of string, ca. 1959.

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Johnny Cash rehearses with his wife Vivian Liberto for his upcoming appearance on the television show

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Johnny Cash tunes his guitar backstage in White Plains, New York, ca. 1959.

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Jerry Lee Lewis, Carl Perkins, Elvis Presley, Johnny Cash, ca. 1956. The Quartet was really an impromptu jam (and publicity photo op, no doubt) between four famous musicians that was recorded by Sam Phillips at his Sun Studios.

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The Man in Black -- Johnny Cash, taken in Memphis, TN, ca. 1957.

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The Man in Black -- Johnny Cash, taken in Memphis, TN, ca. 1957.

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Johnny Cash and electric guitarist Luther Perkins perform on stage in White Plains, New York. Cash's hair flies up in the air crazily as he jams to the music, ca. 1959.

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Johnny Cash in the recording studio looking reflective.

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Johnny Cash gets busted in El Paso International Airport for drug possession, 1965.

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October 5th, 1965 – JOHNNY CASH MAKES BOND – Country and Western star Johnny Cash, center, is flanked by a bondsman and a U.S. Marshall as he was transferred from El Paso County Jail to the Federal Courthouse Tuesday. Cash was arrested at International Airport Monday and charged with importing and concealing over 1,000 pep pills and tranquilizers. Bond was $1,500.

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December 29th, 1965 – JOHNNY CASH PLEADS GUILTY – Country and Western music singer and recording star Johnny Cash entered a plea of guilty before U.S. District Judge D.W. Suttle Tuesday at his arraignment on charges of possessing 668 Dexadrin and 475 Equanil tablets when arrested Oct 4 at El Paso International Airport. Cash, left, leaves the Federal Courthouse with his wife, Vivian, and attorney Woodrow W. Bean after Judge Suttle deferred sentence on the misdemeanor charge that carried a possible penalty up to $1,000 fine and one year in prison.

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March 9th, 1966 – SINGER RELAXES - Johnny Cash, right, Country and Western music star talks to friends in a local restaurant after receiving a $1,000 fine and a 30-day suspended sentence Tuesday in U.S. District Court for possession of illegal drugs. With Cash, second from left, are the Rev. Floyd Bressett, minister of the non-denominational Avenue Community Church, of Ventura, Calif.; El Paso attorney Woodrow W. Bean, who Cash said gave him “strength during my ordeal,” and Johnny Thompson, a friend and former radio announcer.

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Give 'em Hell, Johnny!

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Chosen Few Motorcycle Club

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Soak in the retro soil & oil biker shots from the Chosen Few, and East Bay Dragons motorcycle clubs.

In 1959, the Chosen Few MC officially formed out in LA on the cusp of the chaotic 60s.  As they tell it — “The 60s was a hell of a time. With the Civil Rights Movement, The Viet Nam War, Flower Power & Free Love. Sex, Drugs, and  Rock & Roll. Also the Crazy World of the Outlaw Bikers.”

If this sounds as foreign to you as it did to me, a kid who grew up in the world of white biker culture – well, consider the cultural stereotypes around bikers.

From the Chosen Few history–

“When you talk of the Outlaw Bikers you automatically think of ‘Them Crazy White Boys’ doing what a lot of folk wish they could do. Live Life Like You Want & F*ck You And Your Rules. Well Guess What? There was some crazy Black bikers who felt the fame way, and didn’t give a F*ck. Thus was born the Black Outlaw Bikers ! ”

Black motorcycle clubs emerged throughout Cali in the 50s & 60s, and fought against racism and stereotypes of the day for their right to live the outlaw biker lifestyle — like the East Bay Dragons, Fresco Rattlers, Outlaw Vagabonds, Defiant Ones; down South in LA were the Choppers, Soul Brothers & of course, the Chosen Few.

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Chosen Few Motorcycle Club

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The first White boy to come to the Chosen Few MC was “White Boy Art.” He came around 1960, followed by “White Boy Tom”. Soon we started to attract other White outlaw riders that wanted to join us. The Chosen Few became a multi-racial MC with chapters that were, all Black, all White, half White and half Mexican, half Black and half White, all Mexican, half Mexican and half Indian, a few Asians & one Iranian dude.

Our “Take None, Give None” 1%er diamond was given to us by “69 Jim” who was a 5 foot 6 inch radical Mexican. This patch has stood the test of time. The club may have started out Black, but our White brothers took us head-on into the outlaw biker world. The White clubs knew about the Chosen Few MC. They knew it was a Black club. Then they saw the White brothers flying the same patch as the Blacks — The Sh*t Hit The Fan.

The White Brothers Didn’t Give A Sh*t. They fought for there place in the outlaw biker world & flew the Chosen Few colors proudly. The White bro’s brought a true brotherhood to the club. The Chosen Few was the 1st fully integrated outlaw biker MC.  It soon became well known all around by the other clubs that — “In Black & White, We Really Had Might.”

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Chosen Few MC

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Hollywood chapter of the Chosen Few

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Chosen Few MC

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Chosen Few Motorcycle Club

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Chosen Few Motorcycle Club funeral

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Chosen Few Motorcycle Club funeral

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Chosen Few Motorcycle Club

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Chosen Few Motorcycle Club tomfoolery

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More East Bay Dragons love–

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East Bay Dragons Motorcycle Club

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East Bay Dragons Motorcycle Club

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East bay Dragons Motorcycle Club (check the snazzy shoes)

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East Bay Dragons Motorcycle Club

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East Bay Dragons Motorcycle Club

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East Bay Dragons Motorcycle Club

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East Bay Dragons Motorcycle Club

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East Bay Dragons Motorcycle Club

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East Bay Dragons Motorcycle Club

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East Bay Dragons Motorcycle Club

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East Bay Dragons Motorcycle Club

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East Bay Dragons Motorcycle Club

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Read more on the East Bay Dragons here.

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Dueling tattoo legends & bosom buddies-- Al Schiefley (left) & Les Skuse (right)

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Yep.  On a tattoo kick again.  Check out these sick pics and you’ll know why.  This ain’t no Miami Ink — this is Olde School, Hard-Ass Tats.

The legendary tattooist, and founder of the Sandusky Tattoo Club, Al Schiefley lived and worked out of Sandusky, Ohio where he opened his famous Pearl Street shop that dutifully operated for over a quarter of a century.  The photo above was taken back in mid 1950s during Al’s travels abroad, and shows him seemingly double-teaming a well-inked young lady (with a strange sense of humor) alongside his host and fellow tattoo master — Les Skuse, President of the famed Bristol Tattoo Club.  While in Bristol, Al had the honor of being tattooed by Skuse, as well as the respected London tattooist, Rich Mingins.

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The Skuse family have a rich heritage in the art of tattooing — dating back well over 80 years. It all started with founder Les Skuse, who started the Bristol business back in 1928. Through his years of inking that brought him recognition in Bristol and abroad, Les Skusee was ultimately awarded the title of Champion Tattoo Artist of all England for his advancements in tattoo artistry and techniques.

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This 1950s pic of Les Skuse and members of the Bristol Tattoo Club shows them holding their club's calling card. For recognition purposes, every member is secretly inked somewhere on their body with the club insignia -- a black bat.

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From The Skuse Family History–

Les Skuse was born, lived and died in the port town of Bristol, England. He became the town’s most famous tattoo export and was almost as well known on American shores as he was at home. He visited the United States in 1956 and corresponded with many American tattooists. He was a big admirer of the Coleman School of tattooing as practiced by Paul Rodgers, Huck Spaulding, Al Schiefley and others.

In 1956, Skuse stated in a letter: “English tattooists were using a single needle. This caused a lot of bleeding and pain. This finished design looked very thin and scratchy when compared with the strong, well-shaded designs done in the United States.”

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The right-handed Skuse started his tattoo career in 1928 at the shop of Joseph Hartley, who was probably Bristol’s one and only tattoo artist before Skuse. Hartley was a long time tattooist/supplier in this area and was located at 2 Blackfields, near Stokes Croft, Bristol, England.

Skuse stated: “Professor Joe Hartley fixed me up with a Japanese hand tattooing outfit, and began to work on some of my friends. It was not long before I had earned the price of a six-volt combination tattoo machine.” Skuse is said to have stayed with Hartley until World War II, when he enlisted in the Royal Artillery. After five years of tattooing the troops, he got out, settled back into Bristol and opened his first shop. Les Skuse was located in at least three different storefronts in Bristol; 57 and 97 Lower Ashley Road, and 71 Mina Road.

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Undoubtedly two of the major accomplishments that etched Les Skuse’s name into tattoo history were the formation of the British Guild of Tattooing and the Bristol Tattoo Club. These organizations were given worldwide publicity by both the British and overseas presses, and kept Skuse in the limelight during the 1950s.

Riding on this wave of popularity, Skuse was voted the Champion Tattoo Artist of All England in 1955. The next few years brought an international exchange of tattoo ideas, with Skuse visiting the U.S., and Milton Zeis and Al Schiefley visiting England.

Les Skuse died in 1973. The most fitting tribute I can find for Les Skuse died from a 1957 letter: “I have always been ready and willing to learn, never thinking I knew it all and continually searching for ways in which to improve my work and equipment. It is my firm belief that the more tattooists meet, correspond and exchange ideas, the better it will be both for the individual and the profession.”

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When Les Skuse died in 1973, Les Skuse Junior (Danny) took over his shop on Mina Road. Danny worked up to 1990 when he retired from the day to day running of the studio. He did however decide to work along side his lifelong friend Ron Ackers of Portsmouth and traveled around the world working at conventions, which he is still doing today. Danny is Jimmie’s Father and Brother of Billy.

At the time when Danny took over the Mina Road shop, Les Skuse Senior’s other son Billy was tattooing in Aldershot, Hampshire, alongside his wife Rusty Skuse, who was featured in the Guinness Book Of Records for being the most tattooed woman in England. Billy is Jimmy’s Uncle and Brother of Danny.

Jimmie Skuse started tattooing over 30 years ago when he worked alongside his father Danny at the age of thirteen. Jimmie established the Temple Street shop in 2004. Prior to that he worked as a guest artist in many studios throughout the West of England. Jimmie is the Grandson of Les Skuse.

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The legendary Janet "Rusty" Skuse

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Another English tattoo legend - Ron Ackers

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Paul Newman as Cool Hand Luke

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Cool Hand Luke, brother. Enough quotable anti-establishment mantras to ink an entire tattoo sleeve. Enough chambray & denim workwear to choke the toughest clothes horse.  It’s Sunday night, men.  You have a few hours still left to rebel before you punch your ticket and report to the man on Monday morning.

Can’t find your spine?  What? you left it at Starbucks, bro?  Pick up your shovel and let Lucas Jackson show you how to find it at the bottom of Boss Keans’ ditch.  Sometimes a man enters a fight with nothin’ but his will, and where he came from — and that can be a real cool hand. Watch and learn.

Any man who passes up– spends a night in the box.

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Paul Newman in 1967's Cool Hand Luke

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