15 Minutes And Counting...

From the bits that I can clearly recall, the '60s were, indeed, Swinging.

I happened to be in San Francisco in the Haight-Ashbury district, attending a happening at the pied-a-terre of my good friend Gracie Slick, when a startlingly white-haired bloke by the name of Andy sidled up to me.

"In the future", he intoned, "everyone will be famous for 15 minutes."

"Really?", I replied, rather non-plussed. "In that case, you'd better hope that my fame clock has a snooze button."

As I would not actually invent the snooze button for another 8 years, poor Andy looked back at me rather owlishly.

Nonetheless, it was only a matter of moments before he snapped a candid of me with his little Kodak and proceeded to tell me of his plans for a canvas featuring me in varying day-glo color combinations. Maybe it had something to do with the "Electric Kool-Aid", but I blearily agreed. I only wish that I hadn't had a tennis ball clutched daintily in my mouth when that damned flash bulb went off.