It's hard to believe that today marks thirty years since I first met the Stones, outside a nightclub in New York City.  June 26, 1980.

I've written extensively about that day in "Under Their Thumb," but a new thought just occurred to me:  My encounter with the Stones that day foreshadowed my future relationships with them.  Mick was moody and aloof, Keith and Ronnie were friendly and inviting, Bill Wyman was quiet yet pleasant, and Charlie was absent.

I was 17 years old when I met them, and it was two days after my high school graduation.  You might say I experienced TWO graduations that week -- and I don't need to tell you which one had the bigger impact on my life.

Used to be, the Stones would only get busted for drugs.  So when I heard last month that my ol' pal and co-author Ronnie Wood got hauled in for assaulting his 21-year-old girlfriend in England, I knew it was cause for alarm.  In all the time I spent with the Woodman, I never saw him display a tendency toward violence.

Obviously, this was the booze working, but not by itself.  Woody, at 62, is going through something of a midlife crisis.  He's thrown away his marriage to Jo, one of the few stable people in his life, and that explains why the Woody of today is different from the Woody I knew in the 1980s and '90s.  (Today would have been their 25th wedding anniversary.  They'd been with each other since 1977.)

As I recently told an interviewer for the Wall Street Journal, Ronnie has a touch of ADD.  He's all over the place, mentally and physically, and it's hard for him to say no to anything.  Which is exactly where Jo would come in.  She'd try her best to keep him away from the bad influences and from taking things too far.  She's also the one who threw him into rehab several times.  He could not have survived the last three decades without her.

I'm not sure who he'll listen to at this point.  (The judge, by the way, let him off with a slap on the wrist.)  Reports say that Keith hasn't spoken to him in a while, but I have no idea if that's true.  All I know is that I haven't had an in-person conversation with him in five years.  (I was about to send him a note with my book recently, but he moved into a love nest with his cocktail waitress and I couldn't get their address.)  My fervent hope, however, is that after years of having people take care of him (his wife, his roadies, his managers, his co-authors), he'll finally take care of his own damned self and get back into rehab (among other long-term therapies).

My blind optimism tells me that he'll straighten himself out, which will be a good thing for him and his family, and that he'll be well enough to tour with the Stones in 2010/11, which'll be a good thing for the rest of us.  The blogosphere and British tabloids, however, are currently rampant with rumors such as "Stones to replace Wood."  They're all baseless and premature, but hopefully those rumors will help scare him straight.

Woody, the ball's in your court.

After taking the summer off, I'm excited to be doing a few more discussions and signings.  First up is the Brooklyn Museum on Saturday, November 7, where "Under Their Thumb" will be featured by the museum's Book Club.  I'll be speaking/signing at 9 o'clock that night, and it's part of the museum's monthly First Saturday series, where admission is free.  My appearance will coincide with the museum's "Who Shot Rock & Roll?" exhibit, so it'll be a unique opportunity to view some great rock 'n' roll images (including photos of the Stones) and everything else the museum has to offer, free of charge.  (They do sell food and booze.  And parking's just 4 bucks.)  Check the Events page or the museum's web site for more info and directions.

I want to convey my gratitude to everyone who showed up to my events in the spring.  I was overwhelmed by the turnouts at chain stores like Barnes & Noble and Borders (in New York and Philly), as well as indie stores like Book Soup (in Los Angeles) and the Book Revue (in Long Island).

At some of the events, I was thrilled to reunite with the characters from my book.  People I hadn't seen in years -- like the guy who sneaked me into my high school's mimeo room to print the first copies of my fanzine (see page 6) and the guy who called to tell me about the Stones' "Out On Bail" bootleg while I was in the process of almost losing my virginity (see page 5).

But there were bittersweet moments, too.  At one book signing, I was approached by the sister of Lisa, the wheelchair-bound girl from page 284.  Lisa had MS, and won my contest in 1993 to see Mick's private club gig at Webster Hall.  She was so eager to see the show, she didn't care that the club wasn't wheelchair accessible.  "I'll climb the stairs on my hands and knees," she told me back then.  (The end of that story is on page 294.)  Sadly, Lisa died a few weeks before my book signing near her town in Long Island.  Her sister said that if Lisa were still alive, she would definitely have been there.  So she and Lisa's best friend came in her stead.

At Book Soup in Los Angeles, a stranger handed me a note during the Q & A portion of my spiel.  His note said that he was unable to speak, but that he still had a question for me.  I read it aloud to the audience.  He was asking whether I'd ever performed my Stones impersonations in front of the Stones.  (At each of my book signings, I usually throw in a couple to amuse the audience.)  I relayed the story (from page 90) about how I tried to do Mick in front of Mick but sounded more like Dwight D. Eisenhower.  Later, when the guy approached me to get his book signed, he handed me another note.  It said that he couldn't speak because he had tongue cancer.  I told him to "hang in there."  And yes, in light of the Stones' famous logo, he does recognize (on his own blog) the irony of a Stones fan getting tongue cancer.

The November 7 event at the Brooklyn Museum should be a lot of fun.  If you live in the New York area, I hope to meet you there.  Tell me your stories and I'll tell you mine.

I was surprised by how much media attention the Charlie-to-quit rumor got last week.  Some web site in Australia claimed that Charlie was leaving the Stones and that the band was already looking for his replacement.  As soon as I read it -- a ton of people sent me the link -- I knew the whole thing was preposterous and not worth dignifying with a response.

But the story got picked up by media outlets around the world, forcing the Stones' publicist to release an official statement: "Contrary to a fabricated story that ran this morning on a small music web site in Australia, drummer Charlie Watts has not left the Rolling Stones."

I may not be in the Stones loop like I used to be -- and even when I was, the one Stone I never got to know was Charlie -- but I can tell you one thing: No single member of the Stones will ever unilaterally break up the band -- which is what would happen if one of the original three quit -- because no one wants that on their head.

Keith considers Charlie the "engine room" and would never step onstage as the Rolling Stones without him.  If Charlie leaves, it's over.  Same with Mick and Keith, of course.  The Stones may have lost a member here and there in the last 40 years, but those three guys are the core.  None of them will ever go to the others and say, "I quit, go on without me."  If the Stones ever do officially announce a retirement -- which I personally don't think will happen -- they'll make that decision as a group.

As Keith likes to say, "No one leaves the Stones except in a coffin."

I'm headed to California at the end of this month for book signings in Los Angeles and San Francisco.

But first I want to thank everyone who showed up to my first-ever book signing, which took place on February 26 at Barnes & Noble in Brooklyn. The turnout was overwhelming, and I was thrilled to meet and to reunite with some of my old Beggars Banquet subscribers. The event exceeded Barnes & Noble's expectations, so I'm both happy and sad that they sold out of books before everyone could get one. One of my old subscribers came all the way from New Hampshire and had to leave empty-handed! (And he didn't even win the award for coming the furthest. An old subscriber surprised me by flying in from London. Like I said, it was a truly gratifying and overwhelming experience for me.) The photos below were taken at the event by legendary rock photographer Chuck Pulin.

To California. I'll be at Book Soup in Hollywood on Tuesday, March 31, to discuss and sign the book. 8818 Sunset Boulevard. Kicks off at 7 p.m. I first learned of Book Soup in 1987, when I accompanied Ronnie Wood during his book tour for "The Works" (the book I co-authored with him). The line went around the corner, and I was flattered when some people asked for my signature, too. (I actually mention it on page 138 of "Under Their Thumb.")

After Book Soup, I'll be headed north to sign books at the San Francisco Art Exchange on Saturday, April 4. I first learned of them that same year, 1987, as they were one of the first galleries to exhibit Ronnie Wood's artwork. They've never stopped. They're the only gallery in the world to show his work for 22 years straight. They've got his old stuff, his new stuff, plus lots of Stones images by other artists and photographers, such as Sebastian Kruger, Michael Cooper, Dominique Tarle, and Ethan Russell. Images that'll blow your mind. So, after you get me to sign your book, stick around, feast your eyes on what they've got on the walls, and maybe take a piece home with ya. They're located at 458 Geary Street, and the event begins at 2 p.m.

I can't wait to come out there and see as many of you as possible.

I've begun doing interviews for the book and have enjoyed chatting with my fellow journalists. One of them said that he loved my book, but had a single complaint. He didn't like how I used the word "alright" because the correct spelling is "all right." "It's two words," he said. "Not one."

I told him that I chose to spell it as "alright" -- above the protests of my editor at Random House -- because it felt more "Stonesy." The first place I ever saw that spelling was on the Stones' "Got Live If You Want It" album when I was ten, and, ever since that day, I've spelled it that way. (My dictionary says that although it's incorrect, it has become somewhat acceptable -- as long as your reader knows it's "a token of willful unconventionality rather than a mark of ignorance.")

"I'm Alright," which appeared on the "Got Live If You Want It" LP, was the Stones' take on a Bo Diddley song. And it was because of the Stones that I fell in love with Bo and his music. They covered a lot of his songs (like "Mona," "Diddley Daddy," "Crackin' Up") and would talk about him in their interviews.

People may know Bo for the "Bo Diddley beat" and for his influence on artists like the Stones, but some people don't realize the impact he had on gender relations. In a world (1950s America) where females were relegated to the kitchen, and in an industry full of misogynists, Bo showed respect for women by employing them in his band. Peggy Jones was his guitarist in the 1950s, and a woman known as The Duchess was his guitarist in the '60s. For the last 25 years of his career, his bassist was Debby Hastings, and his keyboard player (who also served as his manager) was Margo Lewis. (In the 1960s, Margo played in Goldie and the Gingerbreads, who were, to my knowledge, the first all-female band to play their own instruments. They opened for the Stones in 1965.)

When Ronnie Wood introduced me to Bo in 1987, I was beyond honored. It took place at Top Cat Studio in New York, when Woody and Bo were rehearsing for their "Gunslingers" tour. Bo was wearing his trademark black Stetson and thick-rimmed glasses. He shook my hand and said, "Pleased to meet you, young man." (I was 25.) He then reached into his pocket and handed me his business card. It read: "Kids, don't do it. Stay drug free."

I got to spend time with Bo along the Gunslingers tour, and he was nicer than I ever could have hoped. Unlike Chuck Berry, his old label mate at Chess, Bo never had a chip on his shoulder. He was phenomenally courteous, gracious, and you could sense the respect he had for women, whites, and for young people like me.

I saw him a few times in the 1990s and he never disappointed, both onstage and off. The last time I saw him was in February 2007 at BB King's nightclub in Times Square. He had to sit throughout his concert, but still exuded his old magic. He was sharp as a tack and still full of energy. Backstage before the show, he told me how he'd recently looked into the mouth of an alligator and how he'd recently saved his granddaughter from choking. He even offered to give my girlfriend a gold coin that he had. (She refused.) Despite his physical aches and pains, he was the same sweet guy I met in 1987.

Below are mementos from my first and last meetings with him, twenty years apart. On the left is the business card he gave me, and on the right is a photo from 2007. (We're flanked by Margo and Debby.) Three months after this photo was taken, Bo suffered a stroke. He never fully recovered, and he died in June 2008, at the age of 79. He was truly one of a kind, and I treasure every moment I spent with him.

I recently saw the film "Cadillac Records" and mostly enjoyed it. I was delighted that a bunch of African American kids were sitting next to me in the theater. They need to know that their culture contributed a lot more to popular music than Puff Daddy and Jay-Z. But at the end of the film -- a biopic about the founding of Chess Records -- I realized that it never mentioned Bo. And that is not alright in my book.