Have you ever taped a shiny penny to a postcard destined for the Columbia Record Club, in N.Y.?­­ Corey Whitehead’s mother remembers all too well. He can still hear her asking where in the heck were all these LP records coming from.

Whitehead, director of guitar studies at Fresno State, graduated with a doctorate in music from the University of Arizona.­ In the ‘70s, he managed to assemble quite the music collection. Whitehead fell in love with the sounds of Elvis, the Beach Boys, Elton John and Creedence Clearwater Revival.

As the vinyl LPs with colorful and risqué covers piled up in the family’s den, the titles changed with the times: Deep Purple, ZZ Top, Rush, Yes and Kansas.

As any 11-year-old child prodigy would envision for himself, Whitehead and his brother formed a garage band in Tuscon, Ariz. in the early ‘80s.­ They named it Talon. They practiced for weeks on end to sound like the rockers of the day: Metallica, AC/DC,­ Megadeath,­ Queensryche,­ Scorpions and Poison.­ Soon, the Whiteheads began playing teen dances and after-school events supported by their mother, a music teacher.

None of these endeavors would prepare him for his biggest challenge: earning his street credentials in Cordova, Spain. In 2009, Whitehead was one of only five guitarists in the world to be invited to compete at the Flamenco Guitar Festival in Cordova, an event overseen by Manolo San Lucar, or as Whitehead calls him, the “Jimi Hendrix” of flamenco guitar.

He was the only American to be invited in the 31 years the gala had been held.­ Hollywood couldn’t have scripted it better, as Whitehead was on a rare Fresno State sabbatical.

He ended up winning the competition and garnering a scholarship endowment, funded by the government of Spain.

In 2010, Whitehead won again, and took home the scholarship prize.

San Lucar, who founded the festival, was so impressed with Whitehead’s passion for the style of music that he invited him to his villa on the coast of Barremeda, Spain, for a dinner that would change his life. Overlooking the ocean,­ Whitehead was realizing a dream ”” one that would only get better.

Over dinner, San Lucar commissioned Whitehead to transcribe a large orchestral score consisting of a 50-volume ensemble of San Lucar’s most famous works.

“I wake up in the morning and have coffee, transcribe for about 2-3 hours, and when I start seeing double, I quit for the day,” Whitehead said.

Whitehead plans to continue his affair with this music fervently.

“I want to pursue this style of music in the purest way possible,” he said. “This means frequent impromptu performances in the Juerga’s and Pena’s of the barrios and villages in Spain, and Brazil. It means making music with gypsies and street performers around the world.”

The phenomenon of social media has allowed Whitehead to gain exposure from his Facebook page.

The Scorpions’ drummer for the last 30 years, Herman Rarebell, was without a job and looking for a new venue to conquer.

Not willing to throw his drumsticks in the fire, Rarebell was given some poignant advice.

“Go west young man, they said, and find a hot young California rock group,” Rarebell said.

Rarebell had been collaborating with Fresno State alumnus and author Michael Krikorian to write his autobiography, “And Speaking of Scorpions.” He was reminded of his touring dates from the ’80s when he passed through Fresno.

Rarebell, upon advice from Krikorian, attempted to arrange a book signing at Fresno State.­ With the help of Susan Bartel in the Kennel Bookstore and professor Brad Hufft, a fellow musician, they arranged a drum clinic for Rarebell in the amphitheatre.

This escalated into an audition for guitar players with knowledge of Scorpions’ songs, with Rarebell looking for new band members.

A 40-year-old teenager was strolling by the ruckus, and, by chance, had his guitar in hand.

“It kind of mushroomed from there,” Whitehead said.­ Rarebell said he could not have envisioned his search being over in just one performance audition.

Whitehead answered the call from Rarebell.

“OK, Corey,” Rarebell said. “I want you to be in my new band. You have other musicians for me, no?”

Rarebell spoke in his charismatic way, and Whitehead immediately knew this would be his latest and greatest challenge.

In March, the new band, with Whitehead playing lead guitar, debuted at the Tower Theatre.

Rarebell and Whitehead performed their new single, “Collective Reaction,” with the band Fatal Sting. As Hufft put it, they rocked Fresno “like a hurricane.”

“Right now I am busy enjoying my newest accolade,” Whitehead said. “I am proud to be returning to campus as a tenured professor, and embracing my students here on campus.”