Fall 1959. So Bob and I are sitting there in the big back room of the "No Name Tavern" in Sausalito (the place didn't have a sign other than the big "Anchor Steam Beer" ad painted on the side of the building), drinking a tall and foamy and waiting for whatever weird thing was going to manifest itself by way of entertainment that evening when in walks Bob Gibson! We didn't even know he was in town—and he remembered us from when we all met when he came to Seattle to do a concert in 1958. He and Dick Rosmini (awesome guitarist!!) hung around Seattle for a couple of weeks and jammed with us local dudes—they stayed on Walt Robertson's houseboat while they were here.

A note about the "No Name Tavern:" we saw some weird(!!!) and wonderful stuff there, notably several performances each by Harry the Hipster ("Who Put the Benzedrine in Mrs. Murphy's Ovaltine?") and Lord Richard Buckley ("hip-semantics" renditions of Shakespeare ["Willie the Shake"], Edgar Allen Poe ["The Bug Bird" (The Raven)], Bible stories ["The Naz"], and many others).

So we're sitting there waiting for whatever weirdness is going to manifest itself that evening when in walks Bob Gibson, who spotted us and came over and joined us. We didn't even know he was in town. He had come to San Francisco mainly to coach two new "folk comedians" were just starting out—the Smothers Brothers. We had just seen them in what was probably their first professional gig—at the Purple Onion.

We sat there guzzling a few beers and chatting. Gibson mentioned that he had just come from the Newport Folk Festival. He mentioned that there was a new girl folk singer who had manifested herself at the festival who was absolutely fantastic, and that we'd be hearing a lot about her in the future. Prophetic words! The girl singer turned out to be Joan Baez.

Don Firth