I've never had a nickname. Although, for a brief period, during my Little League years I was called "greenie" for a time. That didn't stick into adolescence and adulthood. There was, however, another brief moment in time when I actually did have a nickname. Here's the story.
At age 20, in my junior year of college, I became obsessed with the Blues. Blues music, blues history, blues singers, blues records. It was a perfect unity of aesthetic experience that created this passion. The first ethnic studies classes offered at UCLA played an important part. My midterm for what was then called "Negro History" was to write a paper on a topic relevant to the coursework. I chose the subject of the Blues and how it reflected import events and experiences in African American history and culture. At the time, the burgeoning folk and rock music scene was also evolving. Being in Los Angeles helped too. At a small, now iconic club in LA I saw some of the most important figures in blues history. Such seminal figures as Son House, Lightnin" Hopkins, Jesse "Lonecat" Fuller, and Arthur "Big Boy" Crudup all appeared for a $2 admission charge. The list of folks that I managed t see reads like an all-star cast. Big Mama Thornton, Howlin"Wolf, Sleepy John Estes, and J.B.Hutto also appeared. There were many others and a young Taj Mahal, also appeared from time to time. He also worked at this club, giving guitar lessons on Sunday afternoons. I'd sometimes slip in the back as Taj was teaching an admiring student. It was equivalent to a free concert. As Sonny Terry and Brownie sang, I was "just a white boy lost in the blues."
But I didn't stay lost for long. I read everything I could find about the origins of this music. I learned about African retention, the 3 different styles. The opportunities to see blues musicians were many and when I bought records, almost always the blues artists were a major share. I listened to the great harmonica players and tried to learn from people like Sonny Boy Williamson (I and II), Slim Harpo, Big Walter Horton, Big Mama Thornton, and James Cotton. Slowly, I learned more, read books and magazine articles, and went to performances whenever possible. I began to jam with guitar-player friends. When I became a teacher, I brought the blues into my classroom. From there, I shared my knowledge by putting together teaching workshops for history and literature teachers. My friends and colleagues all knew I loved the Blues. They knew that Blues music was one of my passions.
But except for one time, no nickname ensued. That exception came when I was serving as a VISTA Volunteer is Houston, Texas. VISTA was like the domestic Peace Corps. While living in predominately Black neighborhoods in Houston, I befriended a man who was a trumpet player. Trumpet is an instrument not usually associated with Blues. Sure Louis Armstrong, and Joe Oliver are, but usually it's guitar and harmonica. But my new friend just happened to have experience in the backup band for Ray Charles, and then BB King. About this time, one of the VISTA projects was the creation of a Free University for high school students. With help from Rice University and the University of Houston, we put together a series of classes that let these students explore topics and subjects they couldn't get at their traditional schools. I taught the first "Rock and Blues Analysis" classes. This was a way we could teach Black history to students who knew little about the development of the nation and music they loved.
Being so heavily immersed in the Blues earned me my first real nickname: Blues Greene.
I didn't call myself "blind boy" or Lil' son or anything else, but I did begin to carry a harmonica with me at all times.
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