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At the age when most kids are learning not to eat glue, Milwaukee-born Steve Miller was taking guitar lessons from close family friend and electric-guitar godfather Les Paul. It would be five years before Miller, now living in Dallas, managed to assemble his first band. But to the pre-teen's credit, the band was booked solid at fraternity houses around North Texas.
Thus began a half-century of tantalizing college kids with infectious grooves and double entendres. But Miller's road to rock immortality is not cliché. For one, he quit his first band to go to college. He later rectified that decision when, facing two more classes for a literature degree, Miller chucked it all and moved to Chicago to play the blues.

Months later, he was performing with titans Muddy Waters and Howlin' Wolf. Unfortunately, when they died, so did Chicago's blues scene.

Retreating back to Dallas, Miller hit another roadblock when the University of Texas declined to admit him to the music school. So he did what all the unwashed, out-of-work kids not in college or Vietnam did in late 1966 – he bought a groovy worn-out VW microbus and moved to San Francisco.

The Steve Miller Blues Band debuted at the famed Avalon Ballroom at the beginning of the Summer of Love (which technically began in January).

Not so surprisingly, their psychedelia-influenced blues-rock was an immediate success. But you've got to hand it to the hippies – they had a hard time identifying seasons (Summer of Love?), but they knew quality music. After stunning fans at the Monterey Pop Festival that June, Miller commanded the richest record deal in history from Capitol Records – more than the Beatles, the Rolling Stones or the Jackson 5.

The string of hit records that followed introduced the world to the Space Cowboy and the Gangster of Love (Maurice and the "pompitous of love" came later).

In 1972 and on top of the world, Miller broke his neck and then contracted hepatitis. Hurting, he again retreated to Texas. It was during this time a crazy thought – or reflective introspection – pushed one of the biggest successes of the day to reinvent himself.

That decision defined classic rock for a generation.

In 1973, Miller released his first self-produced record. "The Joker" yielded his first No. 1 single. Two and half years later, he released two multi-platinum albums, including his opus, "Fly Like an Eagle." Only one real hit followed, 1981's chart-topping "Abracadabra," but the music made during that period captivated now three generations of rock fans.

Miller survived a horde of lean years and an addiction that sent him to rehab in Mississippi. His touring has slowed to summer concerts, mostly on the festival circuit, where he dabbles in as much environmental proselytizing as he can. (He represented classic rock at Al Gore's Global Warming awareness concert in July.)

And last year Miller enjoyed his biggest success since Reagan took office with the celebratory Fly Like an Eagle: 30th Anniversary CD. The successful return wasn't based solely on nostalgia. Some people, amazing as it sounds, have never heard of Steve Miller.

Considering the packed concerts the last two years and the growing swell for guitar rock anthems – that's likely to change.