I finally had a unique instrument to work with. Since John Entwistle had almost single-handedly introduced the Alembic bass to the music business, Norlin thought he would be the perfect player to evaluate the Gibson RD 77 active-electronics bass. Could we talk to him? Actually, I couldn’t wait to get him involved. It wasn’t about the free instruments. At that point in his career he had a truck full. It was more about the exposure. Gibson has a huge advertising and promotion budget. They can put your face in music stores across the world. They can put your name on an instrument that will live on way past your record contract. This wasn’t a Who deal, this was a John Entwistle deal, and as far as I was concerned, payback for all the things he’d done for me. Like every other picker on the planet, John grew up with a Gibson catalog under his pillow, and now he would be one of those faces staring out from the pages. John and I flew into Chicago and met an assembled platoon of Gibson managers and Norlin brass from New York. It was a strange meeting of cultures. Norlin’s musician-guitarist-expert on the payroll was Bruce Bolen, a Chicago Jazz guitarist looking for his first record deal. Bruce wore the plaid pants, wide lapels and ugly tie and tried to be one of the corporate guys. It was obvious that all the managers knew about the Who and the legendary tales of destruction. They were visibly surprised that Entwistle was such a soft-spoken gentleman. During John’s tour of the offices, people hung back in awe as if waiting for the pyrotechnic finale. By dinnertime John had the group eating out of the palm of his hand. They hung on every thickly English accented word. At dinner we sat next to each other at the table with half-a-dozen other corporate heavies. Toward the end of the meal, John reached out and picked up an expended wine bottle. “Do you know why they leave this little bit of wine in the bottom of the bottle?” John asked. No one knew. “Because of the sediment” he said, illuminating the bottom of the bottle with the table candle. “Oohs”, and “Aahs”. John put the bottle down and returned to his desert. The waiter walked up to the table, picked up the wine bottle and poured the dregs into John’s glass. “Anyone care for any more wine”? John turned to me, lowered his head and gave me “the look” over the top of his glasses.