My 1974 interview with Joan Baez

In the fall of 1974 I was a second-year staff writer for the Lewis and Clark College student newspaper, The Pioneer Log, and I was cocky enough to think that I could interview just about anybody. In early November, I bought myself a ticket to see the legendary folksinger Joan Baez perform at Portland's Memorial Coliseum. My intention was partly to see the person whose hit song, "Diamonds and Rust," was giving me chills every time I heard it on the radio, and partly to see if I could score an impromptu interview with Baez after the concert.

The ticket cost me a whopping $3.50—an insanely low price even for that era (most concerts ran between $6 and $10 at the time). I remember making a mental note to myself that if I somehow got the chance to interview Baez, I would not ask her why her tickets were so cheap.

The show was amazing. I felt like I had finally seen and heard, first-hand, what all the fuss was about. Baez was, indeed, an incredibly talented singer/songwriter, and, it seemed, a really cool person. I'm pretty sure she was looking right at me when she sang "Diamonds and Rust."

Afterward, I went outside the Coliseum and found the backstage entrance, where it was rumored Baez would eventually appear. A limousine was parked near the entrance, so I figured the rumor must be true. One other guy was waiting there, a 30-something, baked-looking dude who claimed to have served as a roadie for Led Zeppelin, Jethro Tull, and Yes, among others. I think he was planning to ask Baez if she needed a roadie—never mind that she was a solo singer who played an acoustic guitar.

Finally, Joan Baez appeared, carrying her guitar case. She was accompanied by a big man in a dark suit, a manager/bodyguard/limo driver, perhaps. My heart leapt to my throat. My stomach did flip flops. What in hell was I going to say to her? I literally had not prepared for this—no questions on 3 x 5 cards, no memorized script...nothing.

"Ms. Baez," I heard my mouth blurt out.

"Yes?" Baez answered, stopping for a moment on her way to the waiting limo.

Gulp. What now?

"Um, uh...I was wondering why your tickets were only $3.50," my mouth stammered.

"As opposed to what?" Baez replied.

"Um, you know...uh, $6 or something?"

"I just wanted everyone to be able to afford to come to the concert," she replied, with astonishing grace and forbearance.

"Well, thank you!" my mouth said, no doubt looking as stupid as it sounded.

Baez smiled and climbed into her limo, leaving me wondering if I should give up on my writing career and become a roadie.