Jimi Hendrix, Eric Clapton, Mitch Mitchell ... and me!

A long time ago, I met Mitch Mitchell (Jimi Hendrix Experience drummer). We’d ear bashed Mitch the night before when our local group supported the group; it ws the year Hendrix had died and Mitch was now turning his hand to managing managing a group called Flying Fortress. It was a funny thing, the audience were mainly kids from our school, in tie-dyed T shirts and loon pants, and there was Mitch, his roadie, Wayo (a Jimi look-alike) dressed more for Woodstock than our local village hall.
Anyway, we wangled the invitation to his house for a jam, and the next morning got the bus arriving at 9 o’clock prompt. No one was up, we were surprised, how could this be? Perplexed we wandered around the grounds until we finally located his roadie who muttering something under his breath, swiftly deposited us in Mitch’s studio.
It was de rigueur for all 60s pop stars to have fancy cottages in the country, swimming pools and studios, and Mitch’s pink house, of course, was no exception. I remember how the studio walls gleamed,  a real studio. Inside it just got better. Flight cases, heaped in a pile greeted us as we entered. Mitch’s black Gretsch double bass drum kit was already set up and gleaming,  while at the end of the room stood Jimi's Marshall stacks, ready and waiting, complete with grooved cabinets where Jimi had driven his guitar across the front. JH EXP was stencilled in white on the back, it was a dream come true, somehow we’d joined the Jimi Hendrix Experience! 
Mitch's roadie threw back the lids of the flight cases and started tossing out Univibes and Fuzz Faces and black, curly guitar leads, it was real treasure trove. Snugly tucked inside was a brand new Telecaster, gleaming cream with a maple neck, not a Strat, a Tele. Jimi Hendrix had played one once, I’d seen a picture. I was given another Tele to play, one that given by Jimi to Mitch Mitchell as a present, which I suppose was lucky, considering Jimi was left handed.
Mitch’s roadie trundled off and me and my friend, who was a drummer, were left to jam all afternoon, playing our versions of Rainbow Bridge, loudly.  In all fairness I spent most of the time getting electric shocks from the amps that weren’t rated for English current, but somehow it didn’t matter, at the time it all seemed worth it.
As the afternoon passed,  there was still no sign of Mitch, we found out he'd gone off for a drive in his Mini, so we wandered about his house looking for food, but couldn't find any.
Later that evening he returned with the bass player, from Blind Faith, Rick Grech.  We were a little concerned as time was moving on and we were about to miss the last bus home. All the same, I decided to broach Mitch’s earlier suggestion of a jam. ‘Later, maybe,’ he said, followed by, 'I was going to get Eric, but he was asleep. ‘Eric? What? the Eric?  So why hadn’t he come? Had he heard about my guitar prowess and chickened out at the last minute, saying he felt a bit stuffed up and chesty with a cold? No, it turned out that Eric Clapton was still tucked up in bed - far too sleepy.
The jam session Mitch had planned for all of us, Eric included, never happened, Mitch did show us his new quadraphonic speaker system and we didn’t have to worry about the bus as we got a lift home in his Rolls Royce.One thing of interest I learnt was that most of Jimi’s guitars were now with Eric Clapton, including his Flying V, apparently he collects them well that's what he says, anyway.