Those of you who attended La Serna High School know all too well what I am talking about. But, for the rest of you, let me fill you in a little.
This last Monday a friend who I have known since elementary school was shot and killed. While the circumstances of Ron's death are horrific, compounding the senselessness of the crime is that fact that Ron was universally loved and admired.
I cannot say exactly when Ron entered my consciousness, although I know it was during elementary school. I can also say that (and please don't think this is a recurring theme with me) Ron and I did not immediately start off as friends. My small group of friends and I were at the time keenly interested in a group of little girls in our sixth grade class (now, of course, all women in their fifties) and we perceived Ron and his friends as being our rivals for the affections of these young ladies.
It seems like Ron in particular was the object of our attention, probably because he was also perceived as the most likely of the rival boys to successfully derail our inept efforts at puppy love. In retrospect, it is not at all clear that Ron felt the same level of competition -- or indeed understood why there was any competition at all. I have a distinct memory of Ron asking one day point blank why we did not get along. He seemed genuinely perplexed.
In any event, the perceived rivalry limped along through the sixth grade and then disappeared in the wake a new reality called junior high.
I would be surprised if there was anyone in my high school class who didn't know Ron -- and admire him. Ron was brilliant, witty, charming, talented .... But, for me, it was mostly about the music. Ron loved Rock and Roll, and he loved to sing. He could have been a great front man.
I don't really remember how our group got started, but my fondest memories of Ron came in the countless hours we spent playing music together. My recollection is that our first session took place in the family room at my parents' house. I didn't have much experience with the electric guitar that first day, and I showed up with a $50 guitar that belonged to my brother Gerry and a small practice amp. I couldn't even hear myself play. Present that afternoon were Ron, Mark Rayman, Marty Kams, John Goulding and myself.
Shortly after that I decided to invest in a real guitar, and Ron suggested that we needed to trek out to West Los Angeles to his favorite music store. No Guitar Center in those days. We were all unduly impressed when the salesman told us that Garth Hudson of The Band had been in the day before and bought two Fender Rhodes pianos. So, I ended up plopping down every penny I had on a 1979 Gibson "The Paul" -- the perfect guitar for someone who wanted great sound but couldn't afford the real thing -- a Les Paul. That guitar still hangs on my wall to this day.
Ron was our undisputed leader and front man. He came up with a varied and slightly weird set, which included "She's The One" (Bruce Springsteen), "Knocking on Heaven's Door" (Bob Dylan -- but with more of the Clapton groove), "Don't Do Me Like That" (Tom Petty), "Jack Straw" (Grateful Dead), "Johnny B Goode" (Chuck Berry) and "Mannish Boy" (Muddy Waters). We also did a Stones tune -- I want to say "Jumpin' Jack Flash" -- which is where Ron really shined. He had the Jagger moves down.
After that first day we didn't play at my parents' house very often. But I do remember setting up in my garage one day to rehearse for a party. My Dad, who had never heard us play before, walked by and gave us a rather skeptical look as we were setting up. He came by a little while later just as we were launching into Johnny B Goode. Uncharacteristically, Dad stopped and rocked out while Ron belted out the lyrics. I think Dad was pretty shocked by what he heard -- in a good way!
We were not a terribly disciplined group, although we usually got through the entire set at least once when we got together. But, inevitably someone would launch into a simple chord progression of some kind and Ron would go freestyle -- making up the lyrics as he went. This could go on for what sometimes seemed like hours -- and we came to expect anything to come out of Ron's mouth -- except the expected. In one moment Ron would be profound and poetic, and in the next his off the cuff lyrics could be so funny that it became nearly impossible to keep playing. I wish we had recorded some of those sessions -- and then again maybe not!
Ron was a great showman, and he never held back. He had a commanding presence, and was just plain fun to watch. But he was also a great encourager -- urging the rest of us to push our skills and was never critical -- even when I was stinking up the place.
I am not really sure why we stopped playing together. I guess we were just overtaken by life. Whatever it was, Marty and I went back to playing mostly folk rock and Ron and Mark struck out on their own.
Before the Facebook age I had lost touch with just about everyone I knew in high school -- a reality I now painfully regret. Some people were no doubt better about staying in touch than others, and I was definitely on the wrong end of that spectrum.
And then, one day I was talking on the phone with my brother, and he said there was someone at his house who wanted to say hello. And there, out of the blue, came the unmistakable voice of Ron Gilbert. Ron, as it turned out, lived right across the street from Gerry.
Over the next several years I saw Ron from time-to-time when I was in Orange County visiting family, and Gerry would put him on the phone on those occasions when I happened to call when Ron and Gerry were together. We would naturally reminisce, and talk about getting together with Mark and Marty and playing together again. I know we weren't exactly The Eagles, but we had some great times and I really thought that one day we would have the opportunity to play together again.
I have had the opportunity to communicate with some of Ron's closest friends from high school over the last few days, and join them and his family in mourning the loss of a great man. Ron's passing is beyond comprehension for so many reasons, and I pray for God's peace to rest on all of us.
LA Times Article