Back in the1980s came a bumpersticker that advised us to “Practice Random Acts of Kindness.”
It was early virtue signaling, meant less to instruct others in proper behavior, more to cast the car’s driver in a quiet, glowing aura, as if she’d turned some evolutionary corner: Be Like Me. Do as I Do.
I recall few instances of anyone patiently, persistently practicing kindness with neither hope nor expectation of being repaid or benefiting in any plausible way.
But here’s one.
No one knew where Guitarman came from nor how he materialized on the streets of Ukiah in the early 1990s. But there he was in a black hat, black cape and black leather jacket. And a guitar.
He stood on street corners and in doorways, and if rainy he took shelter under canopies and awnings. And he played his guitar in hopes you or your friend might flip a quarter or dime into his upturned slouchy hat on the sidewalk.
Business must have been good, because Guitarman kept at it, long and hard, for months merging into years, and with no other obvious ways to maintain his modest lifestyle.
One of the places he played daily was outside the County Public Defender’s office, aka the Feibusch Building at South School and West Church.
Had you never experienced Guitarman working his guitar, you might imagine it would be a welcome musical addition to your day as you went to and from the courthouse. Or at least theoretically possible that you’d enjoy Guitarman strumming those notes or strings or chords or whatever it was that Guitarman was unable to play.
We’ve all heard worse, but probably not multiple times a day. And frankly Guitarman’s between-song patter was rarely polite, never elevated.
Into this setting came a Deputy Public Defender named Barry Melton who was among the sparse parade of lawyers going back and forth to the courthouse. Barry was a cheerful supporter of Guitarman’s street performances, bordering on enthusiastic. When Melton walked past he would offer words of encouragement to Guitarman, assuring him the music he was playing at the moment sounded like the intro to a Ted Nugent song or an Aerosmith riff.
A little history: Barry Melton had once been a legitimate rock star, an electric guitar front man with the infamous Country Joe & The Fish band. Barry was The Fish himself and his group played Woodstock, starred in the movie, released six or eight top selling albums, always popular on nationwide tours.
When Melton slowed down heading back to the office he would sometimes pause to give Guitarman advice or tutoring.
“OK,” Barry would say. “Try it this way” while standing alongside and a little behind Guitarman. “These fingers here, and then this one like this.” Guitarman would strum once, twice, half a dozen times.
“You got it!” Barry would smile, clap Guitarman on the back and head inside the Public Defender’s office. A day or two later Barry would suggest a new chord, a new series of strums that would approximate a Keith Richards solo. “No, seriously, man!”
It would strain the imagination to think Barry Melton benefited from any of these instructional lessons in a traditional sense. He didn’t need a new player in the band he was heading in those days, and surely could not have expected payment.
It was like Willie Mays playing stickball with kids on the streets of New York, or Ken Edmonds on his daily morning rounds at Todd Grove Park picking up litter. Or local writer Dan Hibshman visiting Mendocino County’s jail to teach reading and writing to inmates inside.
Willie, Ken and Dan took advantage of opportunities to do nice things; Barry Melton had a similar gift, mingled with the rare kindness to pause and help a random guy learn a little more and feel a little better about his life and work.
NOTE: Two or more years following all this, Guitarman was kidnapped off the sidewalk at South State and Gobbi Streets. He was taken out north of town, beaten and murdered; they left behind his guitar, but kept his bloodied black leather jacket.
The two guys, later convicted, said they became annoyed with Guitarman when he entered the old 711 Club one night, and played his guitar for spare change.
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