Sunday Morning Listening

I was lucky enough to see Eric Clapton and Steve Winwood play this song (and dozens of other classics) last year at the Hollywood Bowl and I think it makes for perfect Sunday Morning "wake-me-up" music, so I hope you enjoy it.

The family and I got to see Eric in concert again about ten days ago at Universal and he played an almost completely different set than he had the year before, but it was spine tingling entertainment both times out.

Then last week I was honored to be able to do a photo shoot with Mr. Clapton and Mike Connelly as they recorded an interview for a pretty exciting tie-in that will be coming up in a few weeks, which I will link to as soon as it hits the street.

Because of Mike I've met Eric Clapton twice now and I'm always fine while we're all hanging out and talking, but the moment it is time to leave I begin to babble like an idiot. I'm two for two so far and can't figure out what comes over me when I'm heading for the door. It's ridiculous. I've met famous actors, directors, writers, politicians, and musicians over the years and none of them ever phased me like that. I even stayed cool each time I ran into Robert Mitchum at our local grocery store when I lived in Santa Barbara back in the 80s. But Clapton is different. His music has been a big influence in my life, ever since I was a kid. The enormity of this guy's work and the depth of his talent is just so friggin' impressive that I get flustered when it's time to say adios. It's embarrassing. Connelly took a shot of me with Eric after the interview and shoot was over and I look like I just got hit with a cattle prod.

You won't be seeing that picture any time soon.