• 1970-1973: As with many people my age, I returned to school since that seemed less onerous than an all expenses paid trip to Vietnam. Wanting to further develop my farming interests acquired at the commune, I enrolled at a well known agricultural college in California. It was there that I embraced an entirely new way of life as I began hanging out with some college-cowboys who introduced me to the sport of RODEO. In Colorado I was a hippie and in California I became a cowboy – I think I just liked being adverse to my surroundings.
At many schools out West, rodeo is a recognized collegiate team sport. I was accepted onto the school’s team and began competing in college rodeos around the state. Discovering I had some talent at keeping my backside attached to wildly bucking livestock, I decided to try actually earning a living at it and soon became a PROFESSIONAL RODEO COWBOY, riding bucking horses and bulls at professional rodeos all over the Western United States.
However, easing into my 20's, and noticing all the “old timers” (cowboys over 25) limping around in an ungainly fashion, it occurred to me there wasn’t much future for an ailing old bull rider. So, reluctantly, I left behind the freewheeling life of a rodeo cowboy after several rip-snortin years of competing professionally.
• 1973-1976: With the “glory days” of rodeo behind me, and no idea what I wanted to be “when I grow up,” I decided to learn the noble trade of carpentry. I was able to get a job with a California construction company (I never told them about my “D” in wood shop) and soon worked my way up to a foreman position. The wages were pretty good and working outdoors during the day kept me brown and fit.
In the evenings, my income was further supplemented by playing in local rock bands. As the harmonic peace & love music of the 60's evolved into the punk-rock of the 70's, I found myself a regular member of a punk-group with the catchy name of “Idle Threat.” We played many of the rock clubs around Los Angeles. Between playing music at night and working construction by day, my young life was a busy one and appeared to be gaining some stability. Living frugally and saving the earnings from both jobs, for the first time I actually had a bank account ... then I discovered SAILING, and my life took a different tack (pardon the pun).
Soon, the purchase of a small 24' sailboat was made. With tiller in one hand and a book on the fundamentals of sailing in the other, I taught myself to sail. Here was true freedom, I thought. With meager creature comforts that a sailing vessel offered – a tiny galley in which to cook meals and a bunk to rest one's weary bones, coupled with a little help from the wind gods – I could travel the world.
• 1977-1980: Continuing to work hard and saving much of my earnings, soon
a larger boat was purchased.
Moving aboard, it became my floating home. I cruised her up and down the California coast, feeling a bit like Gardner McKay, star of one of my favorite television series as a boy,
“Adventures in Paradise.”
Finally, with wanderlust in my heart and a Jimmy Buffet song on my
lips, I changed latitude & attitude to set sail from L.A. to Hawaii, a
distance of over 2,225 nautical miles. After cruising the Hawaiian
Islands extensively, I went on to cross the International
Dateline and visit more exotic South Sea ports, such as Pago Pago in
American Samoa; Apia in Western Samoa; and the South Sea Island Kingdom
of Tonga, near Australia.
A whole new world was opening up to me and lots of very interesting people began crossing my path: I met the King of Tonga; gave sailing tips to actor Peter Fonda; rock singer Elton John bought me dinner at a tiny island bar; had lunch with Steve McQueen ... but these are all stories of their own.
A variety of minor capitalist endeavors helped to keep me afloat. I took photographs at tropical ports-o-call and sold them at art shows, while continuing to do some carpentry work along the way as well as playing guitar and singing at small clubs, pizza joints and hotel bars.
Also, networking with friends in the music business back in
California enabled me to land a few gigs singing radio jingles and
background vocals.
I may have been a sailing vagabond, but was also a
card carrying union member of the American Federation of Television and
Radio Artists.
One promoter even paid a handsome sum of money for me to record an album of my own songs at Capital Records studios in Hollywood. At one point it appeared a record deal releasing my songs was imminent, but never quite came to fruition due to some legal pitfalls. I learned the hard way that protecting the art created is just as necessary as the talent it took to create it. (This example is one I often cite as a lawyer advising clients.) Nevertheless, sailing around the Pacific Ocean selling my photographs and singing for my supper, life seemed very good indeed ... albeit a bit unstable as I saw the age of 30 looming in the distance.