As I continue to reflect on my childhood and growing up in Natoma I’m faced with an interesting question. When does our childhood end? Is it an arbitrary age like eighteen or something more earthy like losing your virginity? Maybe it doesn't matter because those things both happened to me almost simultaneously.
A friend told me about a girl from Sylvan Grove he’d dated who lead her own band called “The Wild Things”. That was all I needed to hear. I had to meet her. In 1967 there was only a handful of rock n roll bands from our area and none of them lead by a girl as far as I knew. I forced my friend to introduce me to this creature and was immediately awestruck. She was a great singer, piano player and the first person I’d ever met who had perfect pitch.
She owned a pretty crappy Silvertone guitar so I asked her if she’d like to use my Stratocaster for the Wild Things gig the following weekend. She loved my Strat and I loved seeing a girl play it. A full house of puppy love! One thing lead to another and ultimately an honest-to-god shotgun wedding. When her pregnancy became common knowledge her grandfather, on his death bed, called us to his room. He had all his rifles leaning against the wall on both sides of him. It was such a comical sight I would have laughed if he hadn't had such a serious look on his face and a tone in his voice to match. He told us to get married and we did. But it wasn't a marriage made to last. We were kids.
