In May of 1981 I got a call from a fellow artist in Orange County, who was working as an illustrator for an ad house - they had another drawing board open. I sold the few belongings I had and travelled West again - yes, by bus!

I roomed with another pal in Long Beach, and riding buses became a way of life - if my timing was off, my commute was three hours long - I passed the time reading Carlos Castaneda. I fell into a vicious cycle of putting myself to sleep at night with several beers, and each morning relying on a handful of black beauties to get me going.

During these few months I did no gigging - actually I did very little of anything except work, ride, party, and sleep - but on my precious weekends I stayed in the woodshed, learning Michael Schenker licks and writing sad acoustic love songs for my girl Corinne back home.

The illustration job didn't last, so I packed up and schlepped back to Philly (yes, by bus). Corinne didn't last either - there goes another love song - but the guitar licks did last, and I still feel some of Schenker's influence today.