As some of you may know, I’m in the process of writing a book about my weird right place at the right time life. As I slowly relive and prod my memory, I come across inaccuracies that I’m forced to correct. Here’s one.
Because I was tasked with “babysitting” Miles Davis when he reluctantly performed at the Fillmore East, I was told that it was because I’m black and he hated white people. Recently I was stuck in an airport lounge between flights with one of the musicians who toured with him for years and broached the subject with him.
As it turned out, (he was white by the way), Mr. Davis was a great (if sometimes grumpy) mentor and not at all prejudiced. Since he worked with the man for many years, I have to assume that it was the decision of the Fillmore powers that be for me to handle Mr. Davis for their own purposes.
Since my “autobiography” is turning out to be more of a historical document than my personal story I’ve an obligation to get the stories right.
I’m also beginning to realize I was the fly on the wall for most of the “legendary” events that occurred in a period that created the musical, social, and political period of America from the New York coffeehouses to the east side punk era.
For the nerds who live their lives online and constantly annoy me for details, the last time I was with Mr. Davis was the night of the Ali-Frazier fight at Madison Square Garden. Look it up. It was just another night and another story for ‘The Outsider’.