No Name, but Influential Nonetheless

I grew up in San Francisco during the 50’s and 60’s. That was a marvelous time for music in that area, and I am grateful for the priceless experiences I had then. One of these experiences I remember as having a life changing effect on me was at a place, a tourist mall in Fisherman’s Wharf district, called Ghirardelli Square. I remember an experience I had, really a few experiences I had, in watching a certain gentleman who used to perform on the street at the bottom steps, facing the old Maritime Museum there. This gentle and sweet man used to sing and play the gut string guitar. He would throw back his head and smile as wide as the sky, while singing a Harry Belafonte or Frank Sinatra song. He had a face that was a cross between Sammy Davis Jr. and Al Jarreau. He had a big laugh you could hear a block away, and he invariably engaged you, stopping you in your tracks to listen attentively. Now I absorbed all of this mostly unconsciously. My mother would give me a dollar after we had listened to a song or two, and I would put it into his tip jar. He also had a sign board with his name, and a few photos of himself standing next to Dean Martin and other stars who had passed through town. I remember going there alone years later and missing him in that very spot, as if he had permeated the pavement and surrounding walls with his presence, his spirit. I am convinced that he had indeed done just that. That tone and melody came flooding back, and with it, a realization of the weight and depth of that experience, and all of its long hidden implications; the presence, his stance, the arresting persona, the indelible etching of a colorful memory. In essence, a perfect example of what it is to be a magnetic, arresting, and unforgettable street performer. Some time after this, I was on a San Francisco bus downtown, heading west, out to the avenues. It was rush hour, and I was one of many people standing crammed together. Looking blankly around me, I suddenly recognized this man, who had inspired me, and changed my life. This man whose name I still did not know. He looked frail, worried, tired, and a little angry or bitter. I knew exactly that it was him with the beautiful smile, voice and guitar. Unfortunately, I was now a very self conscious teenager, shy and uncertain of how this man might react to my words of praise, which were very conspicuously absent from forming in my mind. I know I stared at him long enough to make him uncomfortable, which would have been all too common for me in my teenage intensity. I realized that I was almost missing my stop, and hurriedly left the bus. I immediately felt that I had missed a great opportunity to give something back to this man, and I regret it to this day. Last year, I released an album of songs, called ‘Organic Alchemy’. My idea was to dedicate that album to this man, but it seemed strange to do without knowing his name. I have decided to release this tribute to him to the world, name or not, because he deserves it, and because I need to acknowledge his influence publicly. If you have folks or friends in San Francisco that might know the name of this gentleman, I would really appreciate hearing from you. A picture of him would be even better. And if you have an influential person like this in your life, please take a moment now to recognize and acknowledge the gift given to you, to the person who has given it. You’ll sleep better for it, believe me. -Alex Kash 09-22-07