When I Left Home (30 page)

Authors: Buddy Guy

BOOK: When I Left Home

11.02Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

I liked that our last session was stripped down. The music was naked, mainly my acoustic guitar and Junior’s harp, my voice and his. What I liked best was when we went back to visit “Hoodoo Man Blues,” the song that made the world see us as a team.

Maybe you’ll be thinking I’m bragging, but I do believe that the Buddy-Junior team will go down in the history of the blues as a combination that worked real well. He brought out my funk. I like to think that I brought out his. When he sang over what I played, tears rolled down my cheeks.

Tears rolled down my cheeks when I went to Junior’s funeral. The cancer had gotten to him like it had gotten to Muddy. He was tired and frail at the end. He was ready to go home. That day we put him to rest, I looked around and saw certain females from his life that I thought should be laying out in that coffin instead of him. But I didn’t say nothin’. I just thought good thoughts about the man who left behind a musical treasure. Wrong or right, he lived his blues. He
was
the blues. My brother.

Three years later, in 2001, another one of my daddies died. Talkin’’bout the great John Lee Hooker. Got to say that it was one of the wonders of my life that a man whose “Boogie Chillen” got me started as a child turned out to be a friend. When I think of Johnny and his way of walking through the world, I got to laugh. I look at him like a tribal chief, a guru, and a sacred spirit.

Back in the seventies Marvin Gaye put out an album called
Let’s Get It On.
I loved it, but then again I loved everything Marvin put out. At the end of the record he sang this song called “Just to Keep You Satisfied.” Talking to his lady, he says something like, “I put up with your all your jealousy and bitching too, but I forget it all once in bed with you.” He’s telling his wife goodbye and feeling terrible about how he couldn’t give her what she wanted. He keeps saying that it’s too late to save the thing. Man, I related.

That’s what happened with my first wife, Joan, and my second wife, Jennifer. I tried, but I failed. Both times I was a-wishing that this was the relationship to stay steady till the end. I don’t like drama. Don’t like arguments and split-ups, don’t like to see tears, and don’t like to feel no heartaches. But the heartaches came, and so did the split-ups.

My kids suffered. They suffered because their mothers and me couldn’t keep it together, and they suffered because I was out there on the road. Now they all grown up, and I have me a crew of grandkids, and I’ve been able, best as I can, to make up for lost time. Me and my kids are together a lot. We talk, we laugh, and they don’t mind when I fix ’em dinner. They know the old man can cook.

In recent years I lost my dear brother Phil, my bandmate and best friend for so many good years. Miss Phil every day.

Lately I been out there sharing dates with B. B. King. That’s a privilege. We get to talk about the days of picking and plowing. Just being in his company makes me shout with joy. B. B. played on my last record,
Living Proof
, on a song called “Stay Around a Little Longer.” We was singing to each other.

Another song on that album was “74 Years Young.” Now I’m seventy-five. My health is good. My fingers still work. My voice has held out. My fans haven’t left me. They accept what I offer and give back plenty love.

What else can a man want?

Good beans, good corn, fresh fruit, fish that ain’t polluted, pork that ain’t spoiled, and chicken without none of them crazy growth hormones.

If you see me walking up and down the aisle of the supermarket, you’ll know what I’m looking for. Food not pumped up with poisons and chemicals. Food that makes me think of Mama and Daddy and how they saw us through. It’s not that I think good food’s gonna let me live forever; it’s just that good food, like good blues, makes life better. It ain’t phony. It comes from nature. It nourishes and satisfies your hunger for something real.

So let me tell you goodbye the same way I said hello.

Let me invite you to Legends.

If you come by my club in Chicago, you probably won’t notice me sitting at the bar. Most people don’t. That’s okay. I’m happy to enjoy the music along with everyone else.

But if it’s a slow night at the counter where we sell my merchandise, I’ll get on stage to sing a song. That lets people know that I’m in the house and available to sign T-shirts, CDs, and my trademark guitars. I never mind drumming up business.

I also never mind thinking back on this long journey that keeps getting longer. I think about that train ride from Louisiana to Illinois on September 25, 1957, and the blues I found when I got to Chicago. Like me, that blues left home. The blues went traveling and wound up in every corner of the world.

I’m believing that the blues makes life better wherever it goes—and I’ll tell you why: even when the blues is sad, it turns your sadness to joy. And ain’t that a beautiful thing?

Selected Discography

THE SIXTIES

On Cobra:

The Cobra Records Story
(Capricorn)

On Chess:

Folk Singer (
with Muddy Waters)
Buddy’s Blues
(Chess 50th Anniversary Collection)
“Wang Dang Doodle” (from Koko Taylor:
What It Takes, The Chess Years
)

On Delmark:

Hoodoo Man Blues
(with Junior Wells)

On Vanguard:

A Man and the Blues

On Universal:

“The Motor City Is Burning” (from
The Definitive Collection: John Lee Hooker
)

THE SEVENTIES

On Hip-O Select:

Buddy and the Juniors

On Alligator:

Stone Crazy

THE EIGHTIES

On JSP:

D.J. Play My Blues
Breaking Out

THE NINETIES

On Silvertone:

Damn Right, I’ve Got the Blues
Last Time Around: Live at Legends
(with Junior Wells)

2000 AND BEYOND

On Silvertone:

Sweet Tea
Skin Deep
Living Proof

Acknowledgments

BUDDY GUY WOULD LIKE TO THANK

This book would not have been possible if it were not for the love of my family, the support of my friends, the hard work of my staff, and the unwavering dedication of my fans across the world. I am eternally grateful to everyone who has come into my life and played a role, whether that role has been great or small. You have all inspired me.

First, I would like to thank David Ritz for translating my life into this incredible story. Thank you to Vigliano Associates for believing in this project that is so close to my heart.

I would like to thank my family. My parents, Sam and Isabell Guy. My mother always worried about me, as I was her only child to leave Baton Rouge, so to keep a smile on her face, I promised her that I was going to Chicago to work and one day I would come back home in a polka dot Cadillac. Even though she never got to see me play, my polka dot guitar will always be a symbol of the promise that I made to her. Thank you to my siblings, Annie Mae, Fannie Mae, Sam, and Philip. Thank you to my children, Charlotte and son-in-law Mark Nunn, Carlise, Nanette, George Jr., Gregory, Geoffrey, Shawnna, Michael, and all of my grandchildren. I love you all.

I would like to thank my dear friends Junior Wells, Uncle Harry (aka “Babe”), Jack, and Homie for their unconditional friendship over the years. Although Junior, Babe, and Jack are no longer with us, they will never be forgotten.

Thank you to my producer, Tom Hambridge, who continues to be a source of inspiration before, during, and after the recording process.

To my band and crew, Tim Austin, Gilbert Garza, Ric Hall, Marty Sammon, Philip Vaandrager, and Orlando Wright. I couldn’t be more grateful for your dedication and hard work.

I also want to thank Annie Lawlor, Isabelle Libmann, and Michael Maxson of GBG Artist Management for always keeping me on track. Thank you to Brian Fadden, Myrna Gates, Michael Greco, Harvey Mc-Carter, Johnny Sims, and the entire staff of Buddy Guy’s Legends. Thank you for making Legends the greatest blues club in the world. Also, to our patrons—from our local regulars to those who come from around the world, I would like to thank each of you for continuing to support Legends for over twenty-two years. Your patronage means everything to me.

I would like to thank Michael Tedesco, Dan Mackta, and all of the folks at Silvertone Records; Garry Buck, Ron Kaplan, Paul Goldman, and the staff of Monterey International; Maureen McGuire and the folks at MacCabe & McGuire; Paul Natkin, Chuck Lanza, and Tom Marker. Your collective hard work is appreciated so much more than you will ever know.

Thank you to the city of Chicago for all your support in helping me keep the Blues alive. Thank you to New Roads (Pointe Coupe Parish), Louisiana for bestowing such an amazing gift upon me, for it is a blessing to receive such an honor.

Finally, I would like to thank all of the blues men who came before me who never received the recognition that was due to them. They were the red carpet that rolled out for us to walk up. When I went looking for their sound, there was no textbook to help me. I had to find the notes myself. I may not have found them, but I found something else along the way. For that, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. If I have failed to mention anyone, please forgive my mind and not my heart, for I am truly grateful to you all.

DAVID RITZ WOULD LIKE TO THANK

Buddy Guy, for honoring me with this collaboration.

Ben Schafer—great editor, great guy—Jimmie Wood—great pal, great guitarist—David Vigliano, David Peak, Ruth Ondarza, Harry Weinger, Herb Powell, Lou Ann Burton, Alan Eisenstock, John Tayloe, John Bryant, James Austin, Dejon Mayes, Dave Stein, Aaron Cohen, Juan Moscoso, Ian Valentine, Dennis Franklin, and Skip Smith.

Special gratitude to my dear friend Jimmie Vaughan, who many years ago said, “Why don’t you write Buddy Guy’s book?”

Endless love to my family, my beautiful bride, Roberta; wonderful daughters, Ali and Jess; wonderful grandkids, Charlotte, Nins, James, and Isaac; sisters Elizabeth and Esther; nieces and nephews; sons-in-love, Henry and Jim.

Thanks to the men’s groups from Tuesday and Saturday mornings.

I call my savior Jesus and love calling his holy name.

Index

Africa goodwill trips

Alligator Records

Alpine Valley, Wisconsin, concert

Altamount, California, Rolling Stones concert

Amin

Ann Arbor, Michigan

Antone, Clifford

Artigo (Lettsworth storekeeper)

Artistic label