I grew up in the sticks of NH with a whole lot of love & not much money. My parents booked the music at a tiny club called The Folkway, and in our family music was as abundant as the air. As kids, my 2 younger brothers & I often fell asleep in the green room, or on a bench in the back of the club while a show was going on. Our family record collection was sweeter than a candy store.
When I was 10, my parents got us a computer with dial-up which was a very big deal in 1990. I found rec.music.phish after Dani Vanaria played me Junta and jumped in head over heels. I saved up babysitting money & bought a dozen Maxell XL II’s & sent out my B&P’s (THANK YOU TAPERS!). I started dubbing/trading like a maniac; pretty soon my tape collection filled 11 shoeboxes. I dove DEEP into Gamehendge lore & drooled over setlists/reviews like a Thanksgiving dinner.
*Finally* my folks let me go to 7/16/94 and that Harry Hood was the first day of the rest of my life. I grew my babysitting business to the max to save up for shows. I caught 11/3/94 & 12/31/94 to tide me over, and by spring I had enough savings to mail-order two tickets for a solid summer run: 6/19/95 straight on home to Sugarbush.
The only hitch was, I was 15 & didn’t have a license yet, bus tickets were too expensive, and I was too new to the scene to find rides with friends. I posted on rec.music.phish asking to trade my extra half of tix for the run in exchange for a ride. Any sketchball could have replied, but I hit the jackpot. Jon Lax from Toronto responded and we chatted for a few weeks. He called my parents & proved to be a trustworthy fellow, and we set out on an adventure of a lifetime along with my dear friend Sarah & her cousin Todd. We met up at Highgate, somehow, in a sea of 100k, sight-unseen, no phones, with a description of his Westfalia & a plate number (to this day I still don’t know how that shit *always* worked out, but it did, as many of you so very well understand). Quick stop at Nectar’s & we were Destiny Unbound for Deer Creek!
While I definitely consider my brothers my everlasting phish mentors (and that’s a whole other story) Jon Lax was the dude who showed me the ropes. He took me under his wing like a little sister that summer.
He was a taper, and he taught me about audio recording & editing: my instant passion and eventual career. He taught me how to navigate and trace our route in his dog-eared Rand McNally road atlas. He taught me how to make, sell, and serve a proper lot grillie. He taught me how to roll-start his VW or start it with a screwdriver on the solenoid when it (often) broke down. He taught me how to sneak into campgrounds for a 5-minute free shower. He gave me my first hit of white fluff to keep in my pocket and explore for whenever the time felt right. He taught me how to identify hidden sprinklers at rest areas so we wouldn’t get blasted at dawn during our much-needed sleep. He taught me how to open beers with a lighter. He let me drive over the GW bridge for my first time ever. He taught me how to transfer DAT recordings onto tapes so we could listen to last night’s show on the road ASAP, and he didn’t mind if I blasted the Graceland album twice in a row (as long as it was sunset).
The theme of Jon’s ‘95 tour was that it was his final hurrah before starting law school & “turning into a grown-up”. He dropped off rec.music.phish shortly thereafter & we lost touch. I’ve written this letter in various forms over the last 20ish years in attempt to express eternal gratitude. Wherever you are, Jon “Al” Lax, thank you with all my heart!
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