. . . He taught me so much about how to play lead guitar. We’d sit there and just fuck with shit for hours. After the Monterey Pop Festival, he came over to my beach house in Malibu and we jammed all night and into the next day. The cops came, and asked if they could just hang out and listen across the street. At dawn I went out and saw five sheriffs’ cars parked there. The cops were just eating doughnuts and drinking coffee, and saying ‘Who the fuck is in there? Jesus, that guy can really play!'