OCD Keeps Me Humble

I discovered in the 90's that I had a bit of this OCD. It was torture sometimes wondering why I felt this need to count to 10 before making a turn, or if I dared say something good about myself something bad would happen, etc...

It wasn't as bad as some cases get, but it would get in the way sometimes. Being late because you have to go through this protocol before leaving the house OR ELSE.
I went on stage once, it was the biggest show of my life at that time, opening up for huge act in NYC. I was so afraid to appear to be 'showing off' (because something bad will happen if I do) that instead I had one of my worst guitar performances. I've learned to live with this. The good thing is, it keeps me humble.

Is She Still Playing?

Many years ago I was in a road band out of Williamsport, PA. Seven weeks on the road, one week off for two years (something like that). I wasn't making a lot of money, but being a single young man not having to worry about food and lodging. I felt rich. I used to frequent this music store. One day a young lady walked in the store wanting to buy a guitar. She found something she liked but couldn't afford it. So I bought it for her. Do I remember her name? No. I remember I felt pretty good about it. I wonder if she's still playing.

An Awkward Moment

As a kid and young adult, it was disrespectful to address an older person without using Mr or Mrs. . As for family, you'd never dream of calling an aunt or uncle by their first name. I had an uncle "Tom". He was the one guy we could count on for giving us a nickel or a dime, sometimes a quarter. He was incredibly funny. To say we loved him would be an understatement. One day while riding the public bus, I saw him as he got on. My first instinct was to shout "Hey uncle Tom!", but I became sensitive as to how that could be embarrassing for him. I never thought about it before. Instead I said weakly, "Hi Tom". I can't explain the shame I felt for calling him by his first name. It was an awkward moment.

The Manager

Back in my day, bands would rent a storefront on busy streets. The windows would have curtains but the windows would be left wide open for passerby's to watch us play. Hopefully someone might discover you. Such as a manager who more often than not would look like Don King. We ended up with a manager. He didn't look like Don King, he looked more like a butler with a pimp hat. He was legally blind. He got us enough work to buy a van. Then he left town with our van. "Anybody notice a black, blind, butler with a pimp hat driving south in a blue van?"

Super Heroes

My brother and I used to play super heroes. We were quite serious. A Lone Ranger mask, our sisters leotards, some swimming trunks would do the trick. Our Tree house in the back yard was our headquarters. We'd roam the streets looking for… I don't know what we were looking for. One night we found it. I got robbed, my brother made it back to the headquarters.

The Jr. Prom

"Why you rotten, goober faced, bucktoothed, son of b***** bastard, Kojak watching , nut breath, skinny, caddy looking, House of Pancakes?, crooked afro-ed, bad sketch of african art, ghetto hillbilly otter…………………………. Termite teethed, left handed, stage band failed, metal type hit, bully beaten, quiet, funny talking ,which can only mean one thing, thermometer sucking, year round halloween looking, bald headed frog. WHAT THE F*** TOOK YOU SO LONG????!!!!!!!!"

- That's not what she said, but that's what I heard. I'll never, never, never be late for a Jr. prom again, not even in my dreams.

The Thermomter

I was sitting on the porch on a hot summer day with a friend. I could have been 7 or 8 years old. We had a thermometer, probably attained by a church group. I was totally fascinated by it, staring at it to see if the red stuff would go up or down.
Since it was red, it probably tasted good. I couldn't resist. I broke it in half and put it to my mouth to drink. All I remember is I woke up in a hospital and was fed gobs of butter. I had a fear of thermometers for a while.

I liked 7th Grade

The only year of school I liked was 7th grade. Class clown, A/V captain. It was great being able to skip a class so I could run the projector for the girls hygiene class. Boy, I missed a lot of classes. To next two years were hell. Somehow the bully's were attracted to me. Print shop was the worst. Getting hit with metal type was a pain. I was quiet and everyone thought I talked funny. Which as far as they were concern could only mean one thing.

The Things That Can Inspire

I started playing music in Jr. high school. When I got to high school I tried to join the school band, but my unorthodox playing style (upside down and strange tuning), not to mention my inability to read, made it impossible for me to pass the audition. I went to see a guidance counselor he said "… there are too many students who started playing music long before you. I'd advise you to think about doing something else."

I Fell Out Of School

I fell out of school. I didn't have the sense that I was there to prepare myself for a future. I thought I was in prison. Once I got out of prison I would get a job. As for music...