Willie Nelson's 'Criminal Drummer', Da Vinci Takes Art Lessons, And A 70s Basketball Legend High Jumps In College: Why We All Need A Co-conspirator, A Coach, And A Critic For Success
The 3-Word Quote: “Multiple Mentors Matter”
1.
He claimed to have been arrested more than 100 times - including three arrests in one day.
He stole frequently, ran illegal businesses, was a member of a small-time gang, and was in too many fights to count - including several shootouts.
He was rough, loud, rowdy, and violent.
But he also liked chess, was loyal to a fault, and was a self-taught drummer who 'can't keep time.'
His name was Paul English, and despite his criminal past and rudimentary drumming skills, he became Willie Nelson's drummer when he joined the band in the mid-1960s.
As Willie Nelson's country singing career skyrocketed, Paul English became one of the highest-paid 'sidemen in the business, getting 20 percent of all Willie's action.'
But why would country legend Willie Nelson let a common criminal who always seemed to carry a gun become his drummer and de facto manager?
Because Paul English served a specific role for Willie, and it's a role most of us need to be filled regardless of our careers.
One example of Paul's value to Willie involved a local mobster, missing money, a forklift, and a note - it's a story that might apply to your life.
2.
You don't have to know much about art history to be familiar with Leonardo da Vinci.
He was one of the greatest painters during the Italian Renaissance and, of course, painted the Mona Lisa.
He was born in 1452 and received a traditional education as a child, studying math, reading, and writing.
His father was relatively well-off and had some standing in the local community.
Today, his artistic talent is unquestioned.
His painting, Salvador Mundi, holds the record for the most expensive painting ever sold. It sold for 450 million dollars at auction in 2017.
Today, he is considered a true master.
Except he wasn't always a master.
And he wasn't always an artist.
However, a man named Andrea del Verrocchio changed Leonardo's life, and he changed art history, too.
3.
Darnell Hillman was dubbed 'Dr. Dunk.'
The 6 ft 9 in Hillman was a high-flying forward known for his exceptional jumping ability and distinctive hair.
He won the 1977 Slam Dunk Competition. He also won the 'The Biggest ABA Afro' award at an American Basketball Association reunion in 1997.
Darnell spent most of his professional basketball career with the Indiana Pacers, working in their front office for years.
His leaping skills were so legendary during his playing days that he was said to have been able to jump high enough to grab a quarter off the top of the backboard.
When a reporter challenged him on this claim, Hillman responded, 'Put a $100 bill up there and see.'
But before he was confident and cocky, he was a student at San Jose State University.
He played basketball there, of course, but he was also a member of the university's track and field team.
San Jose State track and field was a powerhouse team at the time, and Hillman was a fledgling high jumper in the spring of 1968.
One practice, Hillman was perfecting his technique, with the bar set at 6 feet, and was ready to attempt a jump.
But before he attempted the jump, he was aggressively stopped by a teammate.
He didn't know that brief interaction with his teammate would change his life.
The Takeaway:
So, what do Willie Nelson's drummer, da Vinci's early life, and a professional basketball player's high-jumping career have to do with each other?
It's simple - they are examples of the different types of mentors we can use in life.
So why would Willie Nelson hire a man like Paul English?
Precisely, the reason that most would not have hired English.
Paul was harsh, loud, and often violent.
Yes, Willie needed a drummer. But at the time Nelson started his career, he played in some of the roughest bars in Texas.
He did need a musician to round out his band, but he also needed a strong partner to stand by him in any situation. And in those rough bars, Willie often found himself in some challenging conditions.
Those bar audiences could be rough and violent.
But during those turbulent early years, it was often the bar owners Willie had to look out for, not the audience members.
Those bar owners often tried to stiff the performers.
Musicians were paid at the show's end - or often weren't paid at all.
Not paying musicians was common practice, and Willie was cheated out of his money at many shows in the 1950s and 1960s.
And this is where Paul English would intervene.
On one occasion, a club owner in New Mexico, a local mobster, refused to pay Nelson after a gig.
Paul English, who had always supported Nelson, wouldn't let that happen.
English returned to the club and saw the club owner's new Thunderbird parked triumphantly outside the front door.
He noticed a forklift parked across the street. He then strolled over to the forklift and hotwired it.
He drove the forklift across the street, lowered its two metal bars, and inserted them under the bar owner's new car.
He then lifted the Thunderbird as high as the forklift would allow.
English jumped out of the forklift but left a note for the owner that simply said, 'Come see me.'
The club owner quickly realized English was holding his prize possession hostage ten feet in the air until he paid Willie his money.
The owner quickly found English and paid every cent Willie Nelson owed.
Willie needed a manager. He needed a drummer. But he needed a co-conspirator and right-hand man to help him without questions.
English handled many business issues. He often settled Willie's debts- sometimes much more violently than holding a club owner's car hostage.
Often, guns were involved, threats were made, and fists were thrown.
But despite English's criminal past, he was always loyal and honest when it came to Willie—and he demanded the same of everyone when it related to Nelson's band and business.
If you messed with Willie, you'd have Paul coming after you.
When Willie's son-in-law was said to have hit his daughter, Paul shot at him. The two made up later, but when someone attacked Willie, Paul English made them pay.
English drummed for Nelson and managed his books for almost fifty years.
He became Nelson's best friend, his right-hand man, and a mentor.
Willie credits English with saving his life and helping his career prosper.
Nelson called him 'a gun-toting, fun-loving outlaw with plenty of charm and no fears.'
Nelson continued, 'I was the frontman of the band, but he was the frontman of my life.'
Nelson trusted and depended so much on his drummer that he named his daughter Paula after Paul English.
English died in 2002, and Nelson recently wrote a book about their relationship called Me and Paul: Untold Tales of a Fabled Friendship.
In our business or creative endeavors, we don't need someone who will steal a forklift or get in a shootout on our behalf. Those are larger-than-life tales of famous musicians that happened decades ago.
But we all need a Paul English in our lives.
We need a mentor who serves as a co-conspirator, a creative friend in the same field, and who is invested in our success.
It is just one type of mentor required.
Unconditional support doesn't always lead to success.
English didn't make Willie a successful singer; he didn't help improve Nelson's distinctive vocals. He didn't write the lyrics to Willie's songs.
But his unwavering support certainly helped pave the way for success.
We all need this type of mentor.
Find your Paul English.
***
Before da Vinci became the master we know him as he was a fourteen-year-old boy who met a man named Andrea del Verrocchio.
Da Vinci might have had some talent for art as a youngster, and as was customary for many of that age, da Vinci became an apprentice.
His father had arranged to study and learn art under Verrocchio.
Verrocchio, himself, had been apprenticed under the master Donatello.
Da Vinci showed up for his apprenticeship and was taught the craft of painting by an expert, a true master.
What this meant for the young da Vinci was 'grinding paint pigments, priming paint panels, and prepping the master's studio for the day.'
He didn't know how to paint well.
So he learned.
He did very little painting and completed the most basic of skills.
For six years.
During this time, Verrocchio would have provided him with food, clothing, shelter, and some art lessons.
Over the course of six years, Verrocchio would eventually trust da Vinci to help paint part of his current work. Occasionally, Da Vinci would paint backgrounds of the paintings, for example.
After years of learning and practicing, Da Vinci was ready to create his own masterpiece.
He painted Annunciation, which the young artist turned into the Painter's Guild, a group that oversaw the trade.
The artist had to prove his skill by submitting work that demonstrated mastery to the Guild.
Da Vinci joined the Guild in 1472, 'though he continued to work with Verrocchio for another four years.'
He painted The Mona Lisa in the early 1500s.
But for fifteen-plus years, da Vinci was still learning, still practicing - from his mentor, a master.
Because before anyone is a master, they are at first a disaster.
Da Vinci's mentor guided him toward mastery.
But da Vinci's mentor served a much different role than Paul English did for Willie Nelson.
English was the copilot - always supportive; Verrocchio's role was the coach.
Paul English offered Willie Nelson support; Verrocchio offered Da Vinci instruction and skill.
These mentor roles are vastly different.
Finding someone further down the path in your field who can assist you is crucial for improvement.
This is what Verrocchio did. He didn't tell da Vinci what to paint, but he provided advice and skill on how to paint.
First, we need a supporter; then, we need a coach.
Both types of mentors are critical. Sometimes, they are the same person; often, they are not.
***
And what of Darnell Hillman, the future pro basketball player and high jumper at San Jose State?
That spring day, his teammate abruptly stopped him as he began to attempt his jump of six feet.
A track runner and sprint specialist, John Carlos marched over to Hillman before his jump attempt.
Carlos grabbed the high jump bar and aggressively knocked it to the ground.
Hillman looked at him, stunned, wondering why Carlos was interfering with his jump - Carlos wasn't a high jumper.
Carlos stormed away from the bar after knocking it over and threatened Hillman as he marched away. The sprinter told Hillman, 'If I ever see the bar set at this height again, I'm going to drag your body all around this field.'
Hillman was shocked.
But Carlos continued, 'You raise this bar up to 7 feet and you jump no height lower than that every day in practice.'
Hillman had never jumped 7 feet before. He thought Carlos's words were foolish and his request was ridiculous.
But he listened to Carlos, and he changed his practice habits.
One week later, Hillman jumped 7 feet - in a meet.
Hillman wasn't angry at being challenged by Carlos.
He recalled later, 'I got the message.'
Carlos wanted Hillman to set the bar higher - both literally and figuratively.
And Hillman did.
Hillman credits Carlos' harsh words as the moment he began to expect more from himself.
Hillman realized someone else saw more talent in him than he saw in himself.
A few months later, Carlos would medal in the Olympics. He would be immortalized as one of the two African American athletes on the podium, raising their fists and wearing a black glove in protest.
Often, we also need this third type of mentor —the critic.
We need a mentor who wants what is best for us. They are not 'yes men,' and they're not great cheerleaders.
They tell us what we often need to hear, but few will say.
They are the ones who tell us to 'raise the bar' - literally.
Todd Henry, a creativity expert, says the same thing - we often need a collection of mentors.
We need a co-conspirator, a coach, and a critic.
One person rarely fills all these roles.
We need these people at different times in our jobs and creative journeys, so search for these mentors.
More mentors matter.
Success is rarely a solo trip - inviting the right people on the journey is essential.
***
3 things before you go:
watch/listen: great short clip of mentoring/teaching in action- when your guitar hero tries to tell you how to do something, you listen - even if you’re a Rock Roll Hall-of-Famer yourself; love when Berry stops the poor performance says, ‘if you want to get it right, let’s get it right’ and makes Richards do it over (notice Richards reaction); corrected at first and encouraged at the end
read: fascinating article on a fascinating leader; a passage from the story: ‘He eschewed the official residence on Montevideo for his ramshackle flower farm. Rather than a presidential motorcade, he often drove his 1987 Volkswagen Beetle to work. He dressed casually and donated all his salary to charity.’
listen/watch: One of their last live performances before the ‘illegal’ concert was cut short; always a fun listen
See you in 10 days. Thanks for reading.
-Jeff