I stopped the affair between Ayn Rand and myself because I didn’t like being treated as a sex object-ivist.
For the rest of her life, Ayn would denounce me a ‘looter’ – little did she know that, in addition to playing the traditional rock instruments, I also played the lute.
1968 was a crazy year: Vietnam, riots, love-ins, drugs, Paul Lynde.
I was hanging around a lot at Andy Warhol’s place, sitting in occasionally with the Velvet Underground when Lou Reed had one of his hissy fits. Now that the great Warhol is dead, I think it’s okay for me to finally reveal this secret: I was the guy he painted in the famous Campbell’s Soup Can painting. It’s hard to make out my features, as I’m in the sealed can, but, if you look closely enough and take the right prescription meds, you’ll see it’s me. Jackie Susann thought it was the best portrait of me by an artist. I gave her my stash of bennies when she told me that and she immediately flew off to Pittsburgh, no plane necessary.
My first guitar was a Cynthiaplastercaster, Jimi Hendrix Model. Playing it was not easy, even though Cynthia, Sweet Sweet Connie, and Miss Pamela assured me they were able to with no problems. In frustration and because it kept breaking [by then, plaster quality was declining in The United States due to Nixon taking us off the lath standard] and because it felt weird to play, I quit trying to learn guitar and took up playing the field. I would return to the instrument a few years later in 1974, this time purchasing a Sears Silvertone for a song [Color My World by Chicago] from a desperate hippie with armpit fungus issues.