If It Walks Like A Duck

Today Chuck Berry turns ninety years old. He's about to release a new record. It ain't over 'til it's over, right?

Over the years I spent a fair amount of time with him. I can't begin to say that I know him. I can't say that he's a nice guy. Sometimes he's a nice guy.

I will tell you that he's my hero. John Lennon was right- if they hadn't called it rock'n'roll they might have called it Chuck Berry.

When he was first aloof, condescending and rude to me I conjured up a convoluted excuse for him. He had been in prison three times. At least two of his misadventures would not have landed a white man in the pokey. He was in fine financial shape but there were lots of men who were rich from the fruits of his labor. Alan Freed's name still showed up as a co-writer of "Maybellene." Alan Freed couldn't even clap on 2 and 4.

Then I noticed that he and Bo Diddley avoided eye contact with each other. Bo referred to him as "Mr. Berry" and it certainly was not out of any measure of respect.

By the time that he was ever nice to me I was thrilled. I figured that we were getting to know each other. Over time I figured out that I couldn't figure it out. The last time that I saw him we played a two and a half hour set. He was down on his knees, reciting poetry. He must have duckwalked a quarter mile. After the show he begged us to come visit him at Berry Park, his amusement park in St. Louis.

"There's only one cop in Wentzville and I've got Polaroids of him," he quipped. I thought it was a joke. I wish we had gone.

Happy birthday, Mr. Berry. Hail, hail indeed.

                                        

The Original

When I was a kid I thought it all came from Chuck Berry. Even when he insisted that he got it from Louis Jordan I refused to reconsider. Then, of course, once I was turned on to Louis Jordan I had to keep looking back. Have we all just ripped off Pythagoras for all these years? Is he the Father of Rock'n'Roll?

I can no longer conceive of any truly original art. Every influence, every exposure to material at any level seeps into the work. 

Maybe you should consider buying my stuff from CD Baby or directly from my site, www.ronnyelliott.com. Either that or find it somewhere online to download for free. What the heck.

"One Cop In Wentzville"

Working with my all time hero moved pretty quickly from the thrill of a lifetime to something in the nightmare category. Chuck Berry was a great guy when he chose to be. Often he made other decisions.

The last time I played with him, though, was a highlight of everything that has passed before me. He had made us an offer that we couldn't really refuse through the promoter. We packed a borrowed van and headed for Miami. The show was at the Jai Alai fronton and the opening act was the James Gang. 

We had grown more or less accustomed to Chuck's uneven performances. Oh, the good ones were always special. The lesser shows always had more predictable material and less duckwalking. This evening was special from the opening chords of Nadine.

The set lasted two and a half hours. Chuck ranted, he raved. He dropped to his knees to recite poetry. He was on fire and the young crowd stayed on their feet throughout the workout. He bragged on the Mike Douglas Show the next week to John and Yoko that he had just played the longest set of his career.

At the little reception table a sweat drenched Dr. Berry kept up the party mood inviting us to come visit at Berry Park. "There's only one cop in Wentzville and I've got polaroids of him!" he shouted. I thought it was just a little tasteless joke. Of course several years later I realized from assorted news items that it probably wasn't altogether a joke.

I sure am glad that we ended our run with the greatest living American on such a high note. He's still my hero.

What The Mystics See

My grandmother saw the transition from horse and buggy to the automobile. She would have been eleven or twelve years old when McKinley was assassinated and a young seventy one when we lost JFK. The 19th amendment gave her the right to vote in 1920 and she breezed through prohibition. She heard about the Wright Brothers and their little invention, took her first airplane ride in the early '60's and watched Walter Cronkite show us footage of a man walking on the moon.

She was here for the birth of rock'n'roll, too, and she always loved it.

Grandma, Elvis & Mom

Oh, I've got some stories but nothing like what she had. I was here for the beginning of rock'n'roll, too, though and I will always be grateful for that.