BCNC Reedsman Brent Bagwell in Charlotte Viewpoint: “I come from a family that is fairly musical in the extended branches,” says Bagwell. “When I began to take an active interest in playing instruments, no one was surprised and everyone was down with it. I played some guitar and lots of bass at first, in rock bands and whatnot, and came back to playing reed instruments late in the game, when I was 23 or 24. Much of my musical discovery has been on my own, especially jazz. I just started buying [John] Coltrane and [Charles] Mingus records and that was it, man. The Black Saint and the Sinner Lady turned my ears around…when I first got into jazz, I fell hard; listening day and night to everything!”

From an email correspondence with Bagwell after a mention of the Mingus album: “That record changed my life….! Did you read the liner notes from Mingus’s psychiatrist? Heavy.”

The run for mayor at Woody Creek. Turning Las Vegas and the American Dream on its ugly head. Giving fits to both the candidates and press alike on the ‘72 election trail. You can have all of it. It remains my belief that the most fascinating time in Hunter Thompson’s life came during his 8-month stint in Big Sur, where he worked on manuscripts for two novels that wouldn’t become of any interest to anyone until well after he was famous for other books and behaviors.  

Thompson eked out a life there, living on the kindness of others and getting his jollies where he could, firing guns off at all hours, tearing across the cliffs on his motorbike. Of course, he garnered a great deal of infamy among the dandies and folkies who wanted to work quietly in its hills. That summer, 1961, was also the summer Ernest Hemingway sucked the big one. And there was Hunter, living the life of a young Hemingway, pecking away on a story that was very much in Papa’s honor. I also believe he fucked Joan Baez when she looked like this: