A day in the life of a "Pipeliner"

1975 I graduate from high school. That summer I move to Anchorage and my Dad gets me a job working for the plastering company he works for as a 'hod-carrior". Grunt. A "Hod" was a triangle shaped contraption that you fill with plaster and toss on boards to be plastered on the walls. Heavy and messy. Mostly I built scafolding, scrapped floors and helped out. What it did was give me a union card. As a "B"list union memeber I could go to the hall and get a job. By 75 the Pipeline was in full swing and we had people from all over the world showing up for work. At 19 I would meet and work with people from Scotland,Germany,Mexico South America and nearly every state in the USA. I worked with a lot of southern folk. Texas, Oklahoma, Arkansas. My first job was in Valdez. I was part of the bush crew. Our job was to cut up trees that had been taken down and burn them to clear the last 9 miles to the port in Valdez. I had sprained my left ancle just prior to getting this job so I show up and realize it was a 4 mile trek up hill each day with a 40 pound chain saw on my back before a 10 hour day!..I was young and "tuff" then. What I noticed about the camp was how well they fed us. Steaks, sea food,pasteries..good food. I roomed with a guy older than my Dad who was nearly retirement age. He was a gnarled old guy with a serious gas problem. I would look at all these guys and tell myself...this will not be me!!!..I transfered my card from Anchorage to Fairbanks to be closer to friends and work the upper part of the line. I really didn't like to work the line. Being young and stupid I didn't understand what had been laid in my lap. A chance of a lifetime to set myself up for life. There were friends who stayed in the union long after the line was done and who have retired on 6 to 7 grand a month. I met one guy who worked all 4 years at the same site. He paid off his home in California,bought a home in Alaska and bought a lodge with cabins and a lake just south of Fairbanks. Today he is a wealthy man. There were many who the pipeline made their dreams come true,there were others I knew who spent 40 grand on coke and at the end had nothing to show for their toil. For years there was a bumper sticker floating around the state that said"God send us another Pipeline and we promise we won't piss this one away like we did the last one!!!" I wish I had been wiser,had more guidence and been more far seeing. But hey I was 19 fresh out of school and wanting only to have enough money to buy a guitar and screw off for awhile. My friend Randy had gotten a city gig thru the union. I really wanted one of those. Union wages, 40 hours a week and in town. I was one number away from getting one when a crack head friend took the job right out from under my nose. Melvin had overdosed on acid 5 times..Randy said a dead monkey could work better than he. Oh well such was my life then. A typical day on the line was one where you fought boredom and sleepiness all day. I had one job where I picked trash up all day. At the end of the shift the boss would climb in the back of the truck and break open half a dozen bags of trash and throw them back on the road!!Job security...I swear I must have picked the same piece of trash up at least a dozen times. My first Job was cutting trees. We spent a week with no chain saw blades..we would go to work every day and nap. We posted someone at the top of this hill who would signal when a chopper was coming to see if we were working. We would crawl out of the weeds crank up the chain saws. Smoke billowing every where with NO TEETH inthe chains just to show the bosses we were working...two weeks without a single lick of real work done...as we used to say back then.."It all Pays the same"!!! I worked the full line from Valdez to Prudoe. I worked 7-10's 7-12's even 7-16's once..seven days a week 10 12 16 hours a day!. It was a very weird scene. A bunch of guys and a few weman existed. A truck driver once told me that this old gal was giving him an attitude once and he looked at her and said"What are going to do when you have to return to the real world AND BE UGLY AGAIN"!!! Her "fan club" got a bit mean with him after that. After 9 weeks up there I would return home and be mildly shocked at seeing more than one girl walking down th e street. I turned 21 working in Isabelle Pass I also remember our countries 200 year centenial while I worked there. In the end all I had to remember was my Martin D-28. I bought my first serious guitar rig with tax returns from my work there. A Gibson 335,and a Music man 212 100 watt combo... Pipeline Daze...wish I'd been wiser...oh well.

A day in the life of a "Pipeliner"

Guitars,guitars and more guitars.

Guitars are to a player like shoes are to some women. You can never have to many. To me many of them are like this they are like girls,some you date,some you chase,some are way out of your league and then there are those you keep. It is an interesting relationship the player has with the instrument. I wish I had every guitar I ever had that I got rid of. I'd be really well off.Some that I've owned went on to become collectibles worth thousands. I currently own 8. Why so many? Like a car mechanic you need proper tool for the job. I never go to a gig with just one. I always have a back up in case I pop a string. I own a stock American made Fender strat that is like 10 years old now.I bought it new and it is beginning to show some wear. It's a great guitar but the next has always been a bit temperamental. I am one of those who like light strings and low action so some of my ladies take issue with that from time to time. Having just moved here I recently found a tech down the street to tweak them periodically. I own a 69 Fender telecaster. The world first true electric guitar..affectionately nick named the "Plank" by early players. Here is how I came to get this guitar. There was a guitar player back in Alaska we used to call "Skellator"cause he looked like the cartoon. Bald with long white hair and pasty white skin from too many years in bars. I was doing a gig once when he pulled out this guitar and played it. It was old,beat up kinda butterscotch colored with a bunch of brass parts(bridge,pick guard,nut) I remember thinking,"Man that cool looking I'd like to own that" but I thought fat chance. His bass player would go to work with me for years afterward. One day a year or so later I stopped into a pawn shop on 2 street just to look around. I was looking for a Tele cuz I was starting to get some country gigs. Low and behold there was that guitar sitting there for a mere 300 bucks!! I knew the lady who ran the place(that another funny guitar related story I'll tell at a later date) all I had on me was 20 dollars I asked her if that would be enough to hold it till that Friday when I got paid. She agreed so that Friday I had that Tele. Now this guy was a bit of a crack head and his gear showed it. The guitar was in dire need of work. The frets were gone,the keys were not working and the pickups needed to be replaced. So I took it to Chris. He put some decent sized frets on it replaced the keys and we loaded it up with Seymore Duncan pickups. I kept all the old parts cus even in disrepair they are worht something. When I got it back I had a gig that night with Dave ,Skellators former bass player. Dave was playing with him the next night.Dave noticed the guitar and I told him the killer deal I got I had less than 5 bills invested in a guitar that could easily fetch 3 grand were I to sell it(I never will) Dave told me that when Skellator found out I bought his old guitar he was totally bummed. From that time on every time he'd see me he'd say "Hows my guitar" I'd reply "It plays like melted butter and IT AIN"T YOUR GUITAR ANYMORE"! This was the best deal I ever got and every time I've pulled that thing out of the case it turns heads. I have a pair of beautiful guitars that I had custom made for me. For a number of years I played an ESP Tiger stripped strat that I had out fitted with EMG pickups and a Floyd Rose trem system. The Floyd revolutionized guitar playing in the 80's because Mr Floyd designed a double locking tremolo bar that gave guys like Eddie Van Halen nthe ability to do dive bombs and the such on the guitar and keep it dead in tune. You can literally drop the bar all the way down till the strings are slack and they will pop back in tune. I have a friend who was living in Seattle back in the late 70's when Floyd walked into the music store he was working at. He had a proto type of the devise on a strat. He was looking for a partner to back him. The owner blew him off. I remember my friend telling the owner that millions of dollars just walked out the front door. Less than a year later Floyd gave an early proto type to Eddie and boom the rest was history. Wish I'd been there for that. I've been using them non-stop since 1983. My Warmoth guitars are killer. 5 AAA maple tops. The kind of wood you find on high end furniture. Birds eye maple necks. These are my classic rock working guitars. I sold my tiger stripped guitar and had the first Warmoth built. It is an emerald green color with black hardware. It went thru 3 sets of pick ups before this happened. Chris told me one day he had a set of used EMGS that he could put in there. Funny haw certain Mojo can follow guitars. When I got the guitar back I looked at those pickups and noticed that the edge of the middle one was slightly wore. They turned out to be the first set of EMGs that had been in my tiger stripped ESP! that guy who bought it had new pickups put in. The moment I plugged in I had my old sound!. That guitar has been a serious trooper. Never EVER had any neck issues,stays in tune fine and plays like a dream..my 'Emerald Princess". George Benson was my introduction to the world of Jazz. I remember seeing him for the first time in the late 70's on the Midnight Special. I tuned in that night cuz one of my other guitar hers was on that night Calos Santana. I'm watching and out steps this cool well dressed black guy holding this big fat hollow body. Who proceeds to blow me away with his rendition on Leon Russel's "This Masquerade" I had never heard that kind of music before. I ran out and bought "Breezin" ,"In Flight" and "Weekend In LA" My affection for his music would lead me deep into the world of Jazz and the likes of Miles Davis,Coletrane,Parker,Duke Ellington ad Joe Pass. These days I play more of that than anything else. My Jazz guitar is an Ibanez George Benson model. I like them because they are a smaller body easier to play and you don't have the feed back problems the bigger boxes do. For years I couldn't bring myself to buy "just a jazz guitar" because I was only a closet jazzer. The bulk of my gigs were blues and classic rock gigs. But once again I found myself ina pawn shop and noticed a Polytone guitar amp for sale...40 bucks!! the same amp George uses. It was broke but 40 bucks come on!. So I bought it had it repaired and for less that 300 nI had a 600 jazz amp!...but no guitar to go along with it. I had owned a George Benson prior to attending school in LA but I sold back to the guy I bought it from cuz at that time I really couldn't play jazz. I went down to the local music store where I had been doing business for years and years. I had noticed some Ibanez hollow bodies but when I got there they had been sold. I had a "casual" conversation about the Benson with Mark the owner. A few days later I stopped in and there was a brand new one sitting there. I had made no comment about buying one but Mark said.."Here Steve take it home and play it and see what you think". It was the most expensive guitar I would ever buy. 1850.00. But as soon as I played it I was hooked. Mark worked a deal for 1350 and payments. Right after that I got a ton of Jazz gigs. The guitar paid for itself in less than 6 months. The Polytone eventually crapped out and was replaced with a Fender DSP Deluxe and that guitar with that amp is a marriage made in heaven. I sound like a cross between George and Pat Methany attempting to play like Joe Pass. I'll finish this with the story of "Red Dogg". In the early 80's I heard Eddie Van Halen for the first time. It was like hearing Hendrix,nothing in the guitar world could lead up to that and nothing would ever be the same afterward.The way he did dive bombs,pick squeels,the hugeness of his "Brown"sound. It blew me totally out of the water. I went out and bought a Fender mustang,only to find that one touch of the trem bar put it horribly out of tune. As I was preparing to move to LA I came across a redish copy of a strat. I think I got it for 250.00. With a standard strat I still couldn't get his sound. Then one day I was sitting around and noticed that I had a humbucking pickup from an old Les Paul I no longer owned. So I went over to a buddy of mines and had him remove the single coil bridge pickup,route the body and pick guard and install this humbucker. Soon as we restrung it,tuned it and plugged into my amp, I hit one power chord!!!CRUNCH HEAVEN!!!Almost EDDIE!!!. Not long after that I left to go to LA. The first couple of weeks in school we took a bus to Fullerton's and visited the Fender factory. One of my classmate got a couple of Fender Statocastor headstock stickers(rare in those days) He gave me one. By this time the original next had warped beyond repair. I had found this little shop down the street from the School. LA GUITAR WORKS. Run by these two oriental guys. Jimmy could do anything with a guitar you wanted. I had them install a new neck and painted the headstock to match the body. They replaced the white pick guard with a black one and put in Seymore Duncan Hot Rails then replaced the humbucker with a Jeff Beck Signature humbucker. They also installed my first Floyd. They were near impossible to get in LA then due to supply and demand. Hence was born "RED DOGG"! A guitar that would serve me well over the next 10 years,Thru 2 cd's,a tour,tons of gigs...unfortunately I would lose him and my beloved PRS to a nasty divorce...sometimes I think I should have a replica of the dogg made...maybe someday.

Friends,Brothers and Sisters.

I have been greatly blessed and loved by the people God has brought into my life. Oddly you never know that from a casual conversation a lifelong friendship can grow. Some friends are like the trees of the forest of my life. Oaks that weather the changes of the seasons the good times and bad. Always there, unchanging and dependable. Some friends come along for a short season, much like a summer rose, they bloom and bring a wonderful fragrance and beauty to your life for a time then they are gone. Leaving you with a lasting memory of your time with them. I've been blessed to have a handful of brothers and sisters. These are men and weman that started out as "hang out" teenagers who I've grown old with. Many have become grand parents. Good people who I could call on anytime for a chat a pray or just a simple laugh. Let me share two examples of friends some life long some seasonal. Main Junior high early 70's walking down the hall on a day they declared would be "wear your clothes backwards"day. Being a stoner and too cool I wasn't gonna partake. I was still getting over being expelled for long hair and I hated that school. walking down the hall coming my way was this guy named Randy...wearing his stuff backwards. Left an amused impression on me. I forget our first meeting it was probably during a pot smoked moment behind the school with all the other stoners. A year or so later I got SERIOUSLY saved! Holy Ghost saved and back then I would share Christ with everyone and just about everything that wasn't nailed down or glued to the wall. One day at school I spent most of the lunch period telling Randy about his need for Jesus. That night he called me at home "HOW DO I GET SAVED?"..."When you were talking to me today I wanted to do it right then and there".".Easy, ask Jesus to forgive you and come into your heart"..OK "click"..a few moments later he calls back.."Ain't I suppose to feel something?" "Ya, that's what happened to me"..".I ain't feeling a thing"...huuum...go do it again"...click...then he calls back and I reassure him we walk by faith not feeling and if he confessed Christ he was in fact SAVED! Randy and I would become involved in the One way In and the early years at the Lighthouse Christian Center. He and I would sit for hours and play music. I would learn my first licks on the guitar with him. I would be best man at his wedding and he would return the favor with my second ex-wife. From mere pups to aged old men we have been brothers and I count myself blessed to have known him. My last few years in Alaska Allison and I got to know this guy who used to deliver mail to the music store she ran. My guitar tech kept telling me about these dinner parties he and Roscoe were having. Roscoe was a total expert on wine and fine food and just one of the coolest guys we had met in a long time. Schedules finally permitted us to attend a meal at his home where we ate and amazing meal. I drank my first class of 300.00 wine and he ,Chris my tech , and myself played some jazz(he played congas) He was a wonderful guy to hang out with,talk about food,wine ,books and music. I was playing a gig at this greek resturaunt a few months later when I called Chris and asked him to bring our wwine expert buddy along(I needed a drummer and bass player that night) Little did I know that that night I would be fullfilling a lifelong dream for Roscoe. He had always dreamed of playing on stage with real pro musicians. I recall He and Chris were looking over the wine with a rather critical eye when I sat down and said"I'll take the house Merlot"...Ross looks at me with a very concerned expression(kinda like a teacher concerned over a failing student) and says"Steve..we have to talk" That night we got up and played jazz and had a great time. He grinned ear to ear all night. When we were done I told him we would do it again soon. I'm sitting at home a week later when Chris calles me and says.."Roscoe has died! He daughter found him in his study inhis chair, heart attack"!!He was a mere 48. Allison and I attended his funeral and we all met at Levlles Bistro where he had helped the owners with the most well stocked wine cellar in all of Alaska. Frank the owner named the cellar atfter him in lew of his passing. I walked away that day with to few memories of my wonderful friend but like the rose thankful for the season I knew him and the feeling I was made a better and wiser(at least in my choice of the wine I drink)man for having known him. In the end..it is not our worldly goods we take to heaven it is all the people we love and who love us in return...I tip my glass to you my friend..God bless you.

My Bible.

In 1973 I had my then girlfriend and her mom drive me over to the Good News Bible and Book store. There I bought my second bible. My first being a green hard cover "Living Bible" a paraphrase version. I call it "Bible Light" the starter kit for a new believer. On this day I purchased a blue leather bound King James version Thompson Chain reference. Non-red letter addition with thumb guides to find the books of the Bible with ease. It not only looked good but I remember the smell of that leather. Now I had graduated from the "milk" to the "MEAT"...face it folks the Bible can be a tuff read. Without God's spirit you can easily get stuck in the weeds of thees and thous and who beget who. But under God's anointing His Word will jump off the page and change your life. I know it changed mine. In 1973 I was a mere lad of 17. I am now in my 50's. I have somehow kept that Bible with me all these years. I look at it now and see a "Life". Like me it has weathered many a storm. Still in remarkably good shape considering how old it is. Like my 1977 Martin D-28 that I bought new off the rack, It has gotten sweeter with age. I look at my bible and see my life. Many of the thumb guides printing has wore away from use(Pauls Epistles,the book of Proverbs,Psalms)Many of the pages were tore and repaired with tape that has grown yellow with age. I can see the stains from the time I dropped it in the mud. As I leaf threw it's pages I see a young man's journey. Books and passages marked in yellow pen with notes that tell where I was at in any point of my life then. As I reread certain passages and see what I underlined it takes me back to that day. Sitting in a coffee shop with Bible and note book. I read the Book of Hebrews where I learned the difference for the first time of the reason for a new testament. It was late at night and I was living with my lifelong friends Randy and Edy in a spare room. Other pages remind me of sitting in a shack,working as a flagman during the Trans Alaska pipeline days. I look at the first 4 books and see all the scriptures marked where I would learn how God dealt with the Children Of Isreal. I would embrace these truths and would see my life in them..deliverence from Egypt(salvation,the Promise) mount Sinai where they recieve the Law(princples) the wilderness where they are tested(problem) And finally the river Jordan and Cannan(the Provision) the law of the four P's something I learned from Bob Mumford. Years later I would stumble upon a Bible teacher from Scotland named Graham Cook who would use the life of Joseph in a simalar fashion. The Law of the 4 D's Declaration,Distress,Developement and finally Demonstartion..I seek my "Joseph Moment" that moment where God had been prepairing him his whole life to stand before Pharoh. With the act of Pharoh removing his signat ring from his hand and placing it on the finger of Joseph. All that Joseph had suffered, endured and learned would now be focused and used for a former slave to save an entire nation..from ex-con to vice president!!(to put it in modern terms)I look at the life of Abraham who would be the father of Faith and I would learn the Covenenat God made with him and what that would mean to me. I see my life in the pages of this old book. Like me it was fresh and new in 1973. It now has the look of age and wear on it much like me..grizzled and wore yet still whole and in good shape...my Bible,my Life...His Word.

Jackson Square

Here in New Orleans down in the Quarter is a square called "Jackson Square". A park of sorts placed in front of a church acros from Cafe Dumont. It is a place where artists,street performers and musicans hang out and sell there stuff. There are several shops, galleries and some very fine resturaunts there as well. One I especially like is Stanley's. I had the best eggs "Stanley" I ever had. Eggs benedict served with deep fried oysters and a sause that was nearly plate licking good. Yesterday I walked around checking the place out from a point of veiw that I may want to do something there. I have never been one to perform on the street. It's really not my scene but having no sucess in finding regular work and recently having sold my first 3 paintings I thought I would look into it. I have begun to think of this as if were a hot dog vendor. Instead of hot dogs I sell cd's music and art. Jackson Square attract a ton of tourists. You can catch a ride on donkey driven carriages that give you a tour of the quarter,you can have a beigent at Cafe Dumont and partake of the world famous muffalta sandwich at the shop where they were invented. You purchase a peddlers licence at citly hall for 175.00 a year. What may make me a bit odd is I'm primarily a musician who has discovered (albeit late in life) a talent for painting. At the square it's either or, rarely both. I have given this some thought. I would have to purchase a battery powered amp,fold up guitar and music stand and a peddle version of the loop station I use at the gallery gig. A loop pedal is ths marvelous device that allows me to play a passage up to 12 minutes long and let it repeat indefinatly. What I do in the solo jazz gigs I play is comp the chord progression of any jazz standard, set the loop and as it plays back I play the melody then solo over the changes. The newer ones come with 30 different drum patterns too so it's like a trio in a box! Getting to the square may be a challenge. We only have one car so the wife takes it to work. I have several painting on unstretched canvas so they can be rolled up. The artists down there hang their art off the fence that surrounds the park,usually on string or bungee chords. I have an old suit case that has wheels that I think is large enough to fit the amp,stands,tip jar and,paintings. I think I can get that, me and my guitar on the street car to get there and have the wife pick me up after work. To do all this is a bit of an out lay of cash I really don't have but the potential to earn some scratch and get a good tan looks good.
I had stumbled onto a gallery that may take in some more of my paintings. When I left I walked down Royal street where it was located and heard this guy playing the clarinet. He was very good. Royal street is where most the musicians hang out and play. I wandered around a bit more checking out some of the art galleries(I found most of the people working there frankly to be stuck up and snooty) as I returned to the square before heading home I noticed the clarinetist had been joined by a tuba player. Big Black fella with a deep rich voice. As I stood there they began to play this very very soul full version of "Just a Closer Walk with Thee"The clairenet slipping and sliding between the melody and counter point. The the Tuba player began to sing...It brought tears of joy to my eyes!...once again this amazing city presented me with a moment,a gift an embrace..As I stood there in momentary worship to God my phone rang..My sister calling from Alaska to see how I was doing. I held up the phone as I put a dollar in the tip jar and shared this moment with her..I am so blessed to be living here.

A Fathers Farewell.

My father passed away peacefully in his sleep at the age of 85. He was a decorated WW2 hero, master plasterer and the father of 5. How do you sum up the affect that fathers have on you? No parent is perfect. My Dad survived the Great Depression and out lived 12 siblings. What I learned from him in my life has colored nearly everything I've become. What I learned early was the importance of hard work and a committment to excellence. My dad had no patience for shoddy half-assed work regardless of what it was, be it sweeping a floor or building a home. Eric Clapton and I have this comon thread between us. We were both raised by plasterers. I grew up watching my Father walk into a shack and leave a thing of beuty when he was done. He had learned his trade from my Grand father and a string of old school german guys. There was nothing he couldn't do with a hawk and trowl. I took his attitude of excellence,hard work and dependability into my life as a musician. I worked hard at learning my"trade". It has led me down many roads and has been a wonderful life. Choosing that life was no easy task. You give up the white picket fence life for that of a road less traveled. I took a lot of heat from family,friends, girl friends, wives...in the end like my the supreme joy of the work was what sustained me. In the weeks that led up to his passing my two daughters visited him on sepatate occations. At this time Dad was going down hill, not eating much and having trouble remembering things. Yet he told both my daughters how much my music ment to him,how proud of me he was for becomming the musician I was and how even at the start he was always OK with my choice. A wonderful parting gift. Dad had paid a son the greatest compliment once by telling me that I was to the guitar what he had been to his trade..one of the best!. I recall many a time when Dad would ask me to play for him. He'd say "Stevie...Stevie...give us a tune". I'd play and he'd look at whoever was there and go"That's my Boy"..
As I sat next to my Dad's casket with guitar in hand ,feeling deeply emotional to play for him one last time. I reflected on so many times I had done so in my life. As friends and family passed by I quietly played "Misty" for him...one of his favorites. Tears and laughter followed as we all reflected and told stories of this man's life and impact on all. As I left I stood to see him one last time. A man once so full of life,laughter and love now gone to be with God and family..I reached over and placed a guitar pick in the pocket of his suit..a final gift from a son who will always remember..."Stevie..give us a tune" I love you Dad..thank you...