• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

From the air, the intersecting lanes of merging freeways make Spaghetti Junction in Birmingham look like a country lane. Tens of thousands of cars mingling, going round and up and down and back and forth. It looked like a tangled fishing net. And, of course, it all started with Route 66 bringing travellers from the East who were seeking fortune or fame in the West. Although the thud of the rotors made it difficult for us to talk in anything other than broken sentences, Chuck was a terrific guide. He did a lot of swooping around, with the rotors at right angles to the ground, which I loved.

Regarded as the gateway to metropolitan Los Angeles, San Bernardino used to greet Route 66 travellers with orange groves and vineyards. But those days are long gone. In the words of that great Joni Mitchell song, paradise has been paved over and replaced by a parking lot. Nowadays, San Bernardino is a long succession of strip malls, offices and housing. But right in the middle of all that is a stunning Spanish colonial-style building – the California Theatre.

In the early years of Hollywood, filmmakers would screen test their films at the California Theatre, which in those days was regarded as being sufficiently distant from Los Angeles to escape the influence of Tinseltown. Dozens of classics, such as The Wizard of Oz and King Kong, were first seen by the public in this magnificent 1,718-seat cinema. The Wizard of Oz was screen tested in June 1939 and the audience adored it. But the studio executives still felt uneasy about the final song, ‘Over the Rainbow’, and seriously discussed cutting it from the movie. They were worried that the ballad might end the film on a bit of a slow note. But Victor Fleming, the director, managed to persuade Louis B. Mayer to keep it in the final cut, and his faith was rewarded when it won an Oscar. Since then, the American Film Institute and many other polls have voted ‘Over the Rainbow’ the greatest movie song of all time.

In addition to screening films, the theatre has presented plays, ballets, concerts and musicals, as well as stand-up comedy. Over the years, hundreds of big stars have appeared there – including my hero, Will Rogers. So when Mike suggested I should give a banjo rendition of ‘Over the Rainbow’ on the California’s stage, I knew I would be following in some very large footsteps. Slinking off to a dressing room, I sat down and had a bash at the song. I’d played it plenty of times on a guitar, but banjos are fickle wee things – some tunes just don’t sound right on them. Fortunately, though, I came up with a nice, slightly melancholic arrangement – a little folky picking tune.

On the empty stage, lit by a single spotlight and with my jacket draped over a stool, I stood in front of a completely empty auditorium and had a go. I used to play the banjo in public a lot, but over the years I grew kind of nervous about it. I started making a lot of mistakes whenever I played in front of people, so eventually I cut it out of the act. Very occasionally, I’ll play at a charity show or for my pals in Glasgow, but that’s about it. So I was as surprised as anyone when I did ‘Over the Rainbow’ as clean as a whistle four times with no shakes at all. Admittedly, I played a very simple version of the song, but I think it worked well. It was a bit of a breakthrough for me. Buoyed by that unexpected triumph, I got out my guitar and sang ‘Waiting for a Train’ by Jimmie Rodgers and ‘We’re Gonna Go Fishin’’ by Hank Locklin.

Riding deeper into Los Angeles’s metropolitan sprawl, after thirty miles I arrived in Pomona in the Hispanic–Latino side of town. This is probably the world capital for hot rods and low riders. To some people around here, these cars – which are fitted with amazingly complex hydraulic suspension systems so they can bob up and down – are almost a religion. Some of them are works of art, and I’ve always loved them. Even when I was a welder in Glasgow, I used to look at Hot Rod magazine and drool over the paint