Part two of the Calif Hall of Fame wasn’t supposed to be over a week later. My memory saturation has faded, but I kept notes that are vivid. It would’ve been better to send it all in one post, but when a writing flow hits, I’ve learned enough to know… you don’t stop. You don’t edit, you don’t revise. Flow is the holy grail for a creator. I hit a little flow last time and it got long.
Creating, for me, is often nuts and bolts and Allen wrenches and parts not fitting right, like putting together some horrid internet purchase. Or with writing, it can be jigsaw writing: let me just write the edges and fill in the rest once I’ve got a frame, but oh no this puzzle has 2000 pieces and 4000 alternate pieces that would work too. I can stream-of-consciousness write with the best of them, but while it’s definitely one kind of flow, it shouldn’t be mistaken for truly inspired from the creative fountainhead flow.
I digress, but if you know, you know. Or iykyk in our modern texty acronomical language that I have to kind of admit I like.
Things got oddly concentrated here in England, more new stuff tossed at me, leading to over-tired mornings and exhausted evenings. I’ve struggled to get this out to readers because of some new responsibilities. Time marches on and this seems like old news now, but maybe that’s just the perspective nurtured by this content driven, constant refreshing, consume/discard orientation we live in. Sorry it’s taken a while, but going to go with the feeling that if it was worth writing about a week ago, it’s still worth writing about.
So, executive decision here, got your part 2, plus other dispatchy stuff, and no paywall.
At the end of Part One, it had become apparent that it was going to be a powering through it sort of day. Powering through is something nearly all musicians have to become adept at, it’s part of the job. However, powering through at 65 isn’t really powering at all though, it’s just hanging in there. I hung in there without any lunch or nap. Next thing I know we are here:
This is the Governor’s Mansion, and though it looks huge with three stories and 33 rooms, it felt crowded and stuffy when we arrived. Because of moving to England and some back and forthing, I hadn’t taken much notice of who the other inductees were—I only knew about our LA compatriot band Los Lobos and producer/writer/director Ava Duvernay. It was a jolt to find that the Go-Go’s were in this 17th annual class alongside extraordinary individuals I could never have imagined meeting, much less being honored at the same event.
Former San Francisco Mayor and State Assemblyman and Speaker Willie Brown, one of the most powerful state legislators in the country during his reign, was dapper and affable and full of charm and charisma at 90 years old. Also there, at 90 years old, was former judge Thelton E. Henderson, a front line civil and social rights advocate whose rulings on the bench led the way for the country. This guy took a government truck and gave it to MLKJr so he could get to protests in Selma, voted for equal rights for the gay community nearly 30 years before the Supreme Court recognized the same rights under the Constitution. And he took on the fishing industry for killing dolphins in their nets. My cornball line of “I’m honored…your Honor” when I asked if I could take a photo actually cracked him up.
It was fun talking with Los Lobos and gawking at the handsome governor, but in true Go-Go fashion, we all made a beeline into the surprisingly small kitchen to pounce on the incredible food that honoree and master chef Helene An—the “mother of fusion cuisine” had her staff making and piling on trays to circulate the party. We got it fresh, before it got to the tray.
A handler from the California Museum rounded us up for a photo with Governor Newsom. Him and First Partner—so non-gendery, you gotta love California—Jennifer Sieboldt, are one of those couples that I refer to as being from Planet Beautiful. People like this, I don’t expect them to be real, but they were kissy, huggy, kind and down to earth. I’d hang out with them anytime and keep a sharp look for their shadows and less perfect selves.
Even though I lived there 27 years and have tons of friends still in California, I don’t know if Governor Newsom is hated across the aisle or just by lib haters. I do know any governor who isn’t Greg Abbott is fine by me. At some point, I’ll do a deep dive and form my own opinions but I’m kind of enmeshed in learning the ropes of British politics. I get to vote in two countries!
Next stop, the California Museum. It’s worth a visit if you’re in Sacramento. The Hall of Famers that we are now in the company of is crazy—I won’t list a bunch, but the Wiki Page has an easy to peruse layout of inductees since 2006 when it became a thing. Joan Didion. David Hockney. Buck Owens. Maya Angelou. The Go-Go’s. C’mon!
My status by now: yawning non-stop, requesting coffee, which sent several runners running. I ended up with 5 takeaway cups of lukewarm and a guilt complex for spearheading such a difficult mission. We are shepherded into the wings of an auditorium after getting clear instructions on where to sit and how to enter. After the coffee, I have to pee bad, but it’s too late. My status is wired, tired, bladderful, headachey and yet…still in awe and thrilled. You can be everything. Here’s 2 views:
This part took a long time. They summed up the class before us, the 16th annual inductees. I wasn’t sure why that was happening. As each of our class was inducted, a spiel and video footage highlighted the achievements of each honoree; the ones I’ve mentioned, along with Leon Panetta, “father of the Internet” Vint Cerf, basketball legend Cheryl Miller, and of course the wonderful Los Lobos.
Somehow we missed the memo that there was supposed to be a little speaking bit after getting your medal. Each honoree had a nice speech prepared, and finally, it was our turn. Last. The auditorium erupted in cheers. My status was: desperate dry mouth thirst, holding pee in with every muscle from the waist down, head pounding from dehydration, hunger and jet lag—and yet, I agreed to speak for us, wing it, off the cuff. Everyone said it was good, but I won’t listen to whatever I managed to say. Public speaking is something I take pride in doing well—to give you an idea, I wrote and practiced the Rock Hall induction speech for two months. I’m afraid to hear this one, but still, check out the photo of the Governor of California listening and watching my remarks on behalf of the band!
After the ceremony, what looked to be like a fun after party took place. Both bands played, but by this time I’d depleted all powering through and hanging in there reserves and went from a great performance to an even greater night of sleep. The next day I flew back to England, for a near record three day turnaround of transatlantic flying. In 2001, the Go-Go’s flew to Turkey to play for the airmen stationed at Incirlik base, then back to NYC for a TV show the next day which was infinitely more brutal, but I was a young, supple, resilient 41 then.
Here’s some shots of the after-party which might be floating around on social media but did I try to find some private stock ones for my Substack readers.
Well there you have it. We can move on. There’s so many things I want to write to and for you and it’s a privilege to even get to say that—it means I have readers and am not writing into the dreaded void. So while I hope you enjoyed re-caps 1 & 2, I’ll be up my my usual random musings next time. Until then, your referrals, recommendations, subscriptions, shares, feedback, comments, interest, time…these keep the Direction of Motion going wherever it is we’re going. xKV
Congratulations to you and your band mates on this honor! Love you all and am happy to see you recognized.
Wow. Congratulations. I love your "I'm honored your honor" comment.
Your Substack is one of the handful I still take time to read. I WILL upgrade when I can.
Sorry to use this comment to diverge away from your wonderful and deserved honor... but, last night, I finally started reading your book, "All I Ever Wanted." It's been a while since I've found a book I have a hard time putting down (I finally did put it down after one in the morning).
I have so many thoughts: Your dynamic with your mom was intense and interesting--and adds to the huge hole you must feel from her physical absence.
Man, I thought my childhood innocence was cut short (my dad's porn collection, the nude beaches we camped on, and the perv neighbor who took me to a porn movie helped cut my bubble of innocence off around nine)... I nodded my head when you wrote about how having "Hang ups" in the 1970s was about the worst thing, back then. I say the same in my 1970s childhood stories. Like you, I was a latchkey kid who could have used some parental regulation. That's something else I relate to in your stories. Also, the reputation bullshit--ugh. I remember that well. The experiences you shared made me want to travel back in time to Austin, jump on my Schwinn bike, and kick some balls. Anyway, I relate to those experiences. But you had some EXTRA intense family stuff I cannot relate to. I won't say more. I appreciate that you're authentic and shared your life with us.
I admire you for what you've experienced and for becoming the person you are today, being acknowledged and honored for the joy you've given to people. I'm only a few years behind you, but your music brings forth the good memories of my life.
Congratulations.