From the time, I heard that first power cord from the electric guitar I knew I wanted to be a rock star. I began to learn the guitar when I was eleven years old. I picked up my dad’s 1958 Gretsch. He had a small amplifier, which sounded terrific. I had to have it rebuilt since then, but it still has that warm tube sound.
Once I had played a few years, I did the norm and started a band. If I could have bought our band (which was named Horizon) for what we were worth, and sold us for what we thought we were worth, I would never had to work a day in my life.
By this time, in my quest, I had purchased a black Les Paul custom. Wow! Talk about being ready for fortune and fame, baby I was there.
Since I refuse to use the word “gig,” I’ll say it like this. We began to pick up jobs each weekend and sometimes on the road. They weren’t always the best paying jobs, in fact our bar tab was usually about the same as our paycheck. You’d think they would offer the band free beer, but I guess they wanted to make money also.
I wrote my share of songs and visited my share of recording studios, but as you can see, I’m writing about playing in a band, instead of playing in a band. I decided to hang it up several months before my son was born. Overall, it was an experience I wouldn’t trade for a million dollars and wouldn’t give you a nickel for another just like it.
How’d you like the way I spit those numbers out at the beginning and end of this blog? Pretty impressive huh? . . . Doesn’t bode so well for me. Just another mediocre thing I’m good at other than playing music.
So you see this blog doesn’t turn out bad at all. At least when I strive for mediocrity, I’m right there on top . . . and the beat goes on!