My first time, playing harmonica on stage was circa 1977, Ghirardelli Square, Fisherman’s Wharfe, San Francisco. For weeks I had been driving in from Marin to busk and try to get over being nervous playing in front of people. Also, I was pretty sure I was going to be a rock star.
I had tried many spots around Fisherman’s Wharfe, then found an alcove in Ghirardelli Square, with lots of foot traffic. The arched entryway, framed by sandy red bricks, had an echo and great acoustics. Out of the wind and sun it was a perfect place to jam.
I was singing and playing guitar with a harmonica on a rack. I had written songs in the style of my hero Neil Young. One song started, “Blueblood lady, silver spoon baby,” about a local rockstar’s wife, but that is another story. (Hint Jeff Beck/Nicky Hopkins and Steve Miller also wrote songs about her.)
One day, I arrived and a guy in a gorilla suit had set up in “my” spot. I stood watching him play. He was much better than I was. He played all kinds of songs and sounded just like the records.
As I had my guitar case in hand, it must have been obvious I had come to play and I am sure I had a dejected, hang-dog look on my face. He was cool and asked if I wanted to play with him.
I started to take my guitar out and he stopped me, saying “Kid, I have a regular gig at a bar inside, follow me.” We walked up the stairs, into a fern bar and there it was a little raised stage, a bandstand, beckoning.
He asked my name and when I said Gary, he said, “Well, I am Gary Gorilla.” Then turned to the people in the bar and said, “Ladies and gentlemen we are the Two Garys.” He launched into “Under the Boardwalk,” by the Drifters.
I haven’t stopped playing since.