For some reason, even though we were broken up, I was in the car with Dave the first time I heard the Sonics’ “The Witch” on the car radio. I thought it sounded like hideous, deafening, discordant noise and asked Dave who the heck was singing, or rather screaming, that song. He was dumb-founded that I would even ask, “You never heard of ‘The Witch?!’ That’s the Sonics, a Northwest band who made it big with their first record.” He turned up the noise to further make his point. I promptly turned it back down to keep my ear drums from exploding. How could I have been so crazy about a guy who thinks this mad howling is music? Smokey Robinson, the Beatles, Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons, Dion and the Belmonts and my most favorite group of all, the Beach Boys, that was music. I banished all thoughts of the Sonics, and their caterwauling from my mind.
A couple of months later, I was sitting in the University of Washington cafeteria eating lunch and reading when another student appeared beside me and said he had a friend who wanted to meet me. I suggested that he tell his friend to come over and introduce himself if that was true. But this apparently wasn’t possible, as his friend was very shy. I kept eating and said that was too bad. But the boy wouldn’t take no for an answer and continued to beg and plead. I suspect he had been given this assignment on a dare or a bet and didn’t want to fail. So I took the most fateful move of my young life, said yes, gathered up all my belongings and went to meet this “shy” person who had to meet me.
That’s when I was introduced to the man who would pretty much decide my future in the next several years, Rob Lind – good looking with big brown eyes, black hair and very tall (6’4”). When he stood up, he seemed gawky and shy like many boys who grow up too fast, find themselves towering over everyone else, and don’t quite know how to deal with it. He was seated at a table, surrounded by his buddies (turned out to be his fraternity brothers) and had Coca Cola dripping from his eyelashes. I asked him what that was all about, and he laughed, very embarrassed, and deflected the question. (I never did find out which one of his friends doused him with Coke.) We talked briefly, and as I was about to walk away, definitely not interested, one of his friends blurted out, “Rob plays with the Sonics you know!” I turned and looked at him and asked if that was him screaming the lyrics on the record “The Witch” but he gave that credit (or blame, as I saw it) to another member of the band, and said he played sax. He asked for my phone number, and because I had an inexplicable breakdown between my brain and my mouth, I gave it to him.
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