I
had an ulterior motive for wanting to see Sherwin Linton last night
at the Lake Harriet Bandshell. Sure he's a country legend throughout
the Midwest but he's also a character in my novel-in-progress, The
Great American Scrapbook. Another character, Peaches, runs away from her Mount Rushmore home at 15.
And 16. And 17. I really had nowhere for her to go until I saw this
photo—lifted from sherwinlinton.com. I googled the guitar player,
found that he had a radio show out of Watertown, SD back in the 50s, traveled all over the state playing his rockabilly and, just
like that, Peaches was running away to see Sherwin Linton shows.
I
made it over to Lake Harriet with the hope of talking to Sherwin and
getting his okay to use him in the book. I was early and noticed
Sherwin walking up the aisle, shaking hands and chatting with
everyone in attendance. Perfect.
I
slipped onto a bench about four rows up from where he was. Row by row
he laughed and shook hands and I practiced my quick pitch: Would
you mind be a character in a novel? Have you ever met Bob Dylan? [In
my book he encounters Dylan before Bob became famous.]
Sherwin
made it to the row ahead of mine, reached out to shake a man's hand,
then turned—standing right smack in front of me—and said: “Sorry
I can't meet ya all but I got a show to do.” And he headed to the
stage.
The
show itself was a good old time. Sherwin's gruff voice, loving banter
between he and his wife/vocalist Pam, plenty of pedal-steel
guitar—even a 13 year old sweetheart of a guest singer.
I
bought a couple of Sherwin
Linton for President bumper
stickers and hung around for a second shot at speaking with the man.
Finally he turned to me. I shook his hand and said, “This might
sound strange but I'm using you as a character in a novel and I'm
hoping you don't mind.” He smiled broadly and asked about the book
and if I'd written others. I explained Peaches running away to see
his shows and them meeting again later in life. He handed me his
card—as I handed him mine—and said he was “flattered” and
“tickled pink” at the idea.
“You
can even use my real name, if you'd like,” he said a couple of
times—possibly under the misconception that my books are widely
read.
Thank
you, Sherwin! I hope I can do you justice in the book.
