As a child we had a Westinghouse stereo, and I had my own children’s turntable. The radio was always on. I sang at school and at Catechism.
I developed a love of music even though I was not particularly good at it. I openly admit that I’ve never been a “natural”. But I loved it too much to leave it to the professionals.
My first guitar was a beautiful, beat up, small bodied Stella. It was brought to California by a man fromVirginia named Scotty Hughs. He gave the guitar to me. It was a miracle of generosity.
There were no lessons. I locked myself in my room and learned to read chord boxes from a book of Jimmy Webb songs. I fell in love with the sound of a naked, solo guitar. And I fell in love with good songwriting.
Popular music did not give me enough of the acoustic sound that my ears craved. So I my ears found some folk music via the FM underground. I discovered Sing Out! Magazine at my local library. I read Joan Baez’s Daybreak. I’ve considered myself a bit of a folkie ever since.
In high school I was part of an acoustic duo (“Fred and Kit”) and then part of an acoustic trio (“Fred, Kit, and Ron”) We opened for Foghat, and were the only acoustic act in the Battle of the Bands and Car Show at the Long Beach Civic Auditorium. Our career highlight came when we were “streaked” while playing the Ice House in Pasadena. He was the world’s slowest streaker, wearing only a feather boa. He paused at the mic, pointed to his belly button and said, “Something my mother gave me for my birthday. “
When changing tastes in music made it virtually impossible to get acoustic gigs, I played in a couple of rock bands. I wore skinny ties. For me, the best thing about plugging in was the friends I made. People who are still dear to me.
In my 30’s I kept writing and playing mostly in an empty room. My kids didn’t know where I was.
I wrote, recorded and released a couple of children’s records. I played a lot of birthday parties. I have the scars to prove it.
In my 40’s I started attending the Rocky Mountain Song School in Colorado. I found one particular teacher who I clicked with. He taught me some stuff. I bloomed. Better late than never.
The Song School continues to be my holy ground. The people there are my tribe. If I’ve written anything worth listening to it’s because of them.