What John Doe Wrought

So my first post for LA Observed goes up the other day. I think John Doe is my copilot is a nice essay, I was getting some nice responses and then, a guy emails me what's below. And I'm thinking, well, this is about 90 times better than mine, and I write back, asking if he publishes his work, and I really hope he does, and he says, no; he works for the phone company. So I ask him if I can publish it here, and he says, sure.

Thank you, David. See you at X

I was raised in Bakersfield,CA on a farm about 10 miles north of the grapevine. There were nights that I was irrigating the fields where I would watch the cars crawl through the Tejon pass on the way to LA, my nearest oasis that wasn't hillbilly and the place where I could  actually buy a record I liked.

When I met folks at LA shows, I never would admit to where I lived.  North of here " was my stock reply. I was at pains to tell anyone that I hailed from Bakersfield, the home of Merle Haggard, Buck Owens and God help us Hee Haw. Country music was what I was saturated with, as well as Tejano spanish language dance music.

In 1981 I had the experience of seeing X at The Whiskey, and it was love at first listen. The gift I was given that night was an appreciation of my origins. John taught me that Merle, and Buck and all of the progenitors of the Bakersfield Sound were working men who made music that vibrated some of the deepest strings of all Americans.

Someone other than my Grandfather actually saw this unique American music as something of value, something of a working man's art.

Now I am 41, still covered with the tattoos and scars that I earned as a witness to the birth of West Coast punk. I have a teenage daughter as well. Recently we saw John at Millenium Records in Portland, Oregon. He was one of the last artists slated to perform there before gentrification destroyed the NW 23rd location. He pulled that beat up Guild acoustic guitar from its case, diddled a bit, and then asked for requests. Folks in the small crowd called out a few Doe songs, a few X songs and even a Knitters tune.

My request was Silver Wings by Merle Haggard. There is an X anthology where John sings the most beautiful and sorrowful version of that song. After I called it out, there were snickers in the crowd, and a few people turned and gave me funny looks. John strummed his guitar, smiled and sang the most heart felt version of that sad song, and I like he knew where I was coming from. Our origins were something of the same.

We stood in the receiving line afterward, and I asked John to sign a photo of him that I took in 1982. He looked long and hard at the picture, and I could tell that he was there, reliving the time of when the photo was taken. He knew that I had made the Merle request, and I told him I was from Bakersfield. He smiled and told me he lived nearby - and that is the area where he loves to be. My teen daughter was starstruck and smiled foolishly, barely able to answer his polite questions.

X stands alone as the great band that truly made the Unheard Music, but I heard it. It really moved me, and my daughter after. I have to think they know what kind of difference they made for me.

Thanks for the article. John is truly the troubador of the West Coast, our Springsteen.

Sincerely,

David   Portland, Oregon

ps I already have my X tickets for March here in Portland !!!

Comments

[Jason S.]

I love this. Great story and thank you for posting it, Nancy.

Wish I could have witnessed the queered reaction to the request of 'Silver Wings' and the succeeding performance. It truly is a fine song. Here's to you, Bakersfield David!

I remember recently sitting on a bus in San Francisco, eavesdropping on some youngsters who were thrown by the fact that Neko Case sang a duet with Merle Haggard. "Merle Haggard? Really? Yes, really.

This, and the sentiments of 'A Little More Time' in your essay make for nice reading. Good luck with your book! Cheers.

[Priscilla]

Interesting to know.