When I was 10 my best friend had a real guitar. Naturally, I had to have one as well. My parents got me a 3/4 size acoustic. I was happy. Until they told me that I now had to learn how to play it.
No Mom.... I don't think you understand. I just want to be cool by association with a guitar. Learning how seems to be a lot of work... Can’t I just hang it on the wall…
35 years later I'm pretty much a campfire hack with a propensity to write my own music.
Of course I graduated from a 3/4 size acoustic. My hands got too big. Go figure.
Went through the whole "I wanna be a rockstar" thing and had a stable of guitars and other odds and ends.
Like a sousaphone.
Anyway. Music has seen me through some seriously disturbing phases in my life. I'm not super proud of the time I spent playing background music for “animal shows” in Tijuana (sousaphone came in handy). And waking up in a tub of ice with one of my kidneys missing might have been an error in judgement. But I'm still here.
I currently play for drinks and tips around town. Now that I think about it I'm the living embodiment of Mr Bojangles. Except I can't dance. Plus I never had a dog.
That and I have a job.
And a car.
I have been cajoled into starting this page and sharing my music with people.
Mostly because I’m masochistic and seek out critical assessment of my limited talent.
You know, so I can feel better about myself.
I hope your ears don’t bleed.