How rocker Steve Miller came to mentor a high school junior in Texas

DALLAS - Rock 'n' roll guitarist Steve Miller rose to fame as the space cowboy, a gangster of love, a joker, a smoker, a midnight toker.

As a character named Maurice, he spoke of the "pompatus" of love. To this day, no one knows what that means.

Now, Miller, whose band plays Upper Darby's Tower Theater Tuesday with Greg Allman, has become a mentor to Max Marshall.

"Playing music with Steve has validated my dream of being a musician as real instead of just a pipe dream," said Max, a guitarist, songwriter and Dallas high school student.

The relationship between Miller, a rock legend since the 1960s, and Max, a 17-year-old junior at St. Mark's School of Texas, could easily have remained untold. Neither of them was seeking publicity.

But anyone wandering into the H. Ben Decherd Auditorium Performance Hall on the St. Mark's campus one recent afternoon would have found Miller, Max and three band mates rehearsing "Fly Like an Eagle."

"OK, Max, let's slow it up, more melodic," instructed Miller, dressed in black T-shirt, black jeans and black cowboy boots.

Max, rosy-cheeked and sandy-haired, looked like a reed-thin English schoolboy in his shorts and fleece jacket. But the sounds that poured from his Fender guitar seem to channel Muddy Waters.

"Time keeps on slippin', slippin', slippin' into the future," Miller sang, his voice sounding just like it does on classic rock radio stations. "I want to fly like an eagle . . . to the sea. Fly like an eagle . . . let my spirit carry me."

A few minutes later, they played the song for real during a concert for St. Mark's annual alumni reunion weekend.

Miller, who is 67, attended St. Mark's in the late 1950s. The school expelled him for having a bad attitude during his junior year. He transferred to Woodrow Wilson High School and graduated in 1961. It was an unfortunate incident that left wounds on both sides, but Miller and St. Mark's made up several years ago.

"They came and said they wanted to make it right, and I said, 'Apology accepted,' " Miller said.

Max was 12 when he and Miller first met. Miller was in town for a St. Mark's function, and the school scheduled a dinner in his honor at the Marshalls' house.

"Steve came to dinner one time when he was in town, and my brother, Charlie, and I came downstairs for autographs," Max recalled. "He asked me if we had any guitars, and we began talking about playing."

Miller showed Max some special licks.

"He was serious then, and that's why I took him seriously," Miller said. "He really is remarkable."

Since then, Miller has taken Max on the road with him to Houston; Austin, Texas; and New York City. "I bring him to the gig and let him see behind the curtain," Miller said.

Max once played with Miller and Les Paul at the Iridium Jazz Club in New York. Paul, who died in 2009, was a famous electric guitar player, inventor and innovator. He also was Miller's godfather and mentor.

"In some ways, I'm getting the same treatment from Steve that he got from Les," Max said. "It's a cool opportunity."

Cool indeed, according to Max's parents. "It's awesome," said Mary Beth Marshall, Max's mother. "Steve is so positive, and it's so good for Max."

But the mentoring isn't just about music. It's about life and stagecraft and staying emotionally centered.

"I work with other kids, too, and I try to keep them calmed down," Miller said. "Don't get all wound up about your career."

Easy for him to say.

Miller has been playing music for more than 50 years. He's hung out with people like John Lennon. He's produced more than 20 albums and has been famous since 1968. He teaches music at the University of Southern California. He's in the midst of a tour with Allman.

And he still has time for Max Marshall.

"Max has a bright future as a songwriter and a person," Miller concluded.

Max said he hasn't decided where to go to college. His family is well-to-do, and he's aware of the privileges bestowed upon him. He could do anything with his life.

Right now, he said, music is calling him. "Music is egalitarian. It comes down to how good you sound."

But the most important question is this: Has Miller revealed to Max what "the pompatus of love" means?

"I actually did ask him that," Max said. "And he told me that it's sometimes better to make up a word than use a real one."

Greg Allman & Steve Miller Band, Tower Theater, 69th and Ludlow streets, Upper Darby, 8 p.m. Tuesday, $95, $65, $45, 800-745-3000, www.livenation.com.