I'm rarely noticed as a drummer in a band. I don't get people asking for my autograph on the street. It happens maybe once a year but I never have a pen so it usually just ends in a handshake. As a kid I used to practice my autograph so I'd be prepared if I became a "rock star". I tried to imagine how great it'd feel to be asked to sign something. (nervous voice) "Excuse me. Could you...?" 

Giving an autograph was always a pleasant exchange with a smiling person in my day dreams, an endless supply of gratitude and awe I could tap anytime I wanted. In the end, I was wrong about most of it. 

It was hard to give autographs at first. The first few times someone asked I didn't think they were serious. I would pause before writing in case they said "Just kidding" then hand it over half expecting them to laugh and rip it up. "Who do you think you are? Elvis?" But as I signed more often it became less stressful and soon I mine had the big loops and swishes of a well practiced autograph.

The first time Counting Crows signed something as a band we had no idea how to do it. We went to a music store to sign the wall display they'd made for our record. The display was about 4 x 6 feet and needed big signatures but we'd never signed anything and wrote our names like we were signing checks. The guy at the store said, "I can't see anything. Can you write bigger?" After that we tried to adjust our signature size more appropriately. 

I'm always nice when people ask me to sign something because the only two times I tried to get someone else's autograph are terrible memories for me. The first was when I was about seven. We went to an A's/Indians game at the Oakland Coliseum and got a foul ball from Cleveland's left fielder, Oscar Gamble. Because I was a kid and had a ball to sign, we were allowed into this underground concrete tunnel where the players come out after the game. The plan was to wait for Oscar Gamble and get him to sign the ball. But he threw me a change up and walked out in a three piece suit. I'm not sure what I expected him to look like off the field but with that suit on he froze me. A famous baseball player dressed like my school principal was too big a figure to interrupt, so I just watched him walk by.

The other autograph story is worse because it happened when I was an adult. We were playing Saturday Night Live and my mom asked if I could get Mike Myers autograph for a family friend. I wasn't thrilled about the idea but I liked the family friend so I said I'd try. It turned out to be no big deal and he was very nice, but the stupid way I asked him for it and the discomfort I felt while he was writing were terrible. To make it worse, I lost the autograph before I got home.

As Counting Crows became more successful people would wait for us after the shows between the backstage door and the bus. Most people wanted to see Adam, the singer, and when he came out the rest of us were often left standing together, watching him sign hats and shirts and ticket stubs in a circle of heads, like he was cutting back ivy one leaf at a time. There were a few times I had things ripped out of my hand mid-sign when he appeared. One time this happened and I actually chased the guy down, grabbed his ticket back and finished my signature. 

Another time a girl came up after a show and said "Excuse me? Do you have a pen?" I got one out and took the top off. I was about to ask her name when she grabbed it out of my hand and ran into the pack. A few minutes later she returned the pen with "Adam Duritz" scrawled across her forehead in two inch letters. 

The Crows fans were usually great but sometimes it got weird. When we were on the cover of Rolling Stone there was a guy waiting for us to get off the bus one time. He had about ten copies of the magazine for us to sign. (And this was before ebay!) The strange thing was you could tell he didn't even like the band. I was on about the eighth one when I introduced myself. He said "Watch the smudges"and pointed for me to continue. 

A few years later I went out with a band who's drummer got sick and couldn't finish the last month of their tour. In honor of the regular drummer, whose name is Phil, I used the alias "Phillis King" whenever I signed an autograph with them. Nobody seemed to care and before long I'd written "Phillis King, Phillis King, Phillis King," so many times the signature had become a indecipherable set of lumps and curls that started to resemble the word "Pink". And then I started writing that! "Pink, Pink, Pink" I'd write it really big and fast and it looked great.

This particular band had some big radio songs in their past so we were doing fan appreciation shows for radio stations where a bunch of acts play all day long in a big field or amphitheater or something. They're great shows to play because the crowds are wild and you get to see a lot of cool bands. The way they usually work is that you play your set and then go to an autograph tent and sign while the band after you is onstage. When you get to the tent you relieve the band that played before you and signing while you played. There were always long lines in the tent but people didn't seem to care when the band they'd been watching sign autographs for the last hour stood up and switched out with a new group of signers. I always thought someone would complain as we were changing over but it never happened. 

One "fan" on that tour wasn't as blown away by me as I had been by Oscar Gamble. I was talking to a woman at the signing table and he pointed at me from the line, "Hey you! Hurry up!" When he got to the table I thanked him for keeping me in check and signed "Joey Travolta" on his shirt. He walked away without caring who I was anyway.

In Luce we used to sign CD's and posters after our shows, too. One night this guy came up and said he was MAD at me. He was a big guy and he looked a little "boozy" so I asked him sincerely what was wrong. He said "I am the band's biggest fan and I didn't get a drum stick!" He spoke with true anger in his voice, as if he'd been jipped! Rather than explaining that people don't automatically get a drum stick for attending a show I went around the building, back on stage and got a drum stick. I went to hand it to him and he pushed it away. "What! You ain't gonna sign it? I gotta have it signed to show my bro's!" I was annoyed with him so I wrote: "Dave, Thanks for the sexy kiss. Steve" Then I took off before he read it. I saw him just before I left, scowling at the stick and trying to rub the ink off.

I've never been "famous" enough to be bothered by fans asking for autographs. It happens so infrequently it's never been a hassle, and anyway, I really enjoy making connections with fans of the band. Signing an autograph isn't the way I imagined it to be as a kid but it's an honor to be asked and has allowed me to meet lots of really cool people. 

If you see me hanging around somewhere introduce yourself and tell me what to write. Bring a pen though, or we'll probably just end up shaking hands.

Steve Bowman