Conversations With Rock Stars

Been dazed and confused for so long it's not true

Six years earlier...

January 5th, 1969 - Whiskey a Go Go, Los Angeles, CA

My best friend Karen had invited me to go and see this band called the New Yardbirds. They were playing at the Whiskey A Go Go, about two hours from where we lived in Ventura. My parents were very hesitant to let us go.
"Please Mom," I whined, "Karen really wants me to go with her and it would be great practice for me to photograph people there." My mom reiterated that it was far away; what if something happened to us? "We're so responsible, Mom. Nothing's going to happen!" My dad was sitting in his armchair, smoking a pipe. I glanced at him. What really could not happen was if dad got involved and decided to say no. I wished Karen was here. If she wanted to go so bad, why wasn't she helping me to convince my parents. Mom sighed.
"I guess it's up to your dad," she turned to him and he looked up. I ran over and kneeled in front of him.
"Daddy, please. I so badly want to go," I looked imploringly into his eyes.
"Your mother's right," he paused. "But I do know how badly you want to go." I held my breath. He slowly nodded.
"Thanks Daddy!" I leaped up and ran to the telephone. I could hear my mom talking to dad, but then Karen's voice was in my ear. "It's a go!" I shouted. She squealed and said she'd be right over.

Twenty minutes later we were giggling in my room and getting ready. Karen pulled on a sweater vest and fluffed her hair.
"You are going to be blown away by this band," she turned to me with her hands on her heart. "Jimmy Page is so bad." I grinned. I had to admit that was part of why we wanted to go. A dark and moody guitarist was all we needed to be kicked into next week. I ducked into my closet to find my favorite blue dress and Karen finished touching up her makeup. She had on her pink sweater vest with high waisted green pants, and her dark hair was flipped up at the ends. We quickly made our exit, shouting to mom and dad we'd be back later.
"Remember to call me when you get there!" Mom called back. Karen and I rushed to the car (I could drive now, but Karen's birthday wasn't until May). We took off with the windows down and a night of fun before us.

We arrived at the Whiskey A Go Go around 7:30. We had to park farther down the street and walk to the venue. I pulled my purse closer to myself. I wasn't sure if it was alright to take pictures, but I had brought my camera anyways. My uncle had bought me this nifty little camera that looked like a cigarette lighter and I hoped to test it out tonight instead. 8:00 rolled around and we got in with a $6 admission fee. Karen and I squeezed our way to the front. A lanky weed walked onto the stage and introduced the band we had come to see. I wasn't sure who he was, but I carefully pulled out the cigarette lighter from my purse and clicked. I had to remember to use the film sparingly, because it was expensive to get it developed. It was hot inside with more than 400 people packed in. Four guys came out after being introduced. A tall, dark guy with a mustache went behind the drums. A slim, dark haired man with a hidden face grabbed the guitar and slung it across himself. A blond and rather quiet man took the bass. A curly haired guy came to stand by the microphone. The string bean introduced them and said,
"Ladies and gentleman...I hope you can hear me." The rest of the band was tuning up. He continued, "this is the last night for Led Zeppelin, so here we go." The band jumped into their first blues number. The night passed quickly. Karen and I were absolutely mesmerized by what we were hearing. I was able to take some pictures very discreetly from where we were located near the right side of the stage. And then an eerie sound filled the room, conducted by Jimmy as he strung a bow across the guitar strings. I snapped another picture. All too soon it was over. Karen and I walked out in a daze. The stars twinkled outside and as I drove home, my head was filled with that haunting riff.