Lightnin' Hopkins came to the recording studio on February 20, 1962 direct from his landlady's TV set where, in step with most of America, he'd spent the morning spellbound by John Glenn's orbital flight in th'e Friendship 7.

Less than three hours after Lt. Col. Glenn hit the water, Lightnin had "rimed up" sung, and recorded his happy tribute to the astronaut.

Because the record industry is notorious for its fads and schemes, on the surface this song may seem to be the result of some businessman's bright idea. It is not. The impulse which set it in motion, one which lies close to the heart of the blues tradition, is some­thing distinct and individual.

This is not to suggest that Lightnin is at all un­willing to cash in on circumstances, for indeed he is ever willing to do just that, but it is enthusiasm not contrivance that moves him. He lacks, for example, the cunning of the postal authorities who secretly prep­ared the U. S. Man In Space 4c stamp and had it ready for immediate sale in order to wring the maximum propaganda value from Glenn's flight. Or, again, Lightnin lacks the all too evident premeditation that went into Glenn's own headline-styled phrase: "All systems go."

Lightnin' is simply another breed of man. He moves by whim and fancy. He was fascinated by Glenn's flight into space. It caught his imagination, it awed him, and because he is an impulsive blues-maker, it produced in him a song.