Rock and Roll politics.

Oh boy. Another anniversary is on the horizon—and another thirty-year marker. November 7, 1978 was election day in Connecticut, the conclusion of my breakthrough campaign for governor of that state—the most rock & roll campaign in state history.

I've previously mentioned the auspicious beginning of my candidacy. My independent campaign had picked up speed later that summer when I encouraged David Sewall to run with me for Attorney General.

We had crossed paths in college a dozen years earlier (in Astronomy class to be exact) and knew immediately that we were destined for greatness together. I was an Ancient Greek major and he a Music Theory major, so it was obvious even then that we could be a powerful political team with a practical grasp of the burning issues of the day.


You need to be willing to kill chickens

In a previous post—"Taking Care of Business"—I argue that the great rock bands have been worthy exemplars of aspiration, ambition, motivation, and drive. But that's not sufficient. There are obviously other qualities needed to be successful.

I thought I'd illustrate this with a story of a particularly hardworking rock & roll group—one of several "almost famous" bands I performed in a few years back.

The Berries—later known as The Band of Angels—were a four-piece Hollywood proto-glamor-rock band. (I'm not sure what that means either.) Our claim to fame was our residency in the early '70s as house band for Gazzarri's, a legendary dance club on Sunset Strip.