Music has been, and still is, one of my oldest and most faithful companions. One of my first memories of music has me perched on my pops shoulder in a hardware store years ago. They had cleared out an area around an old wood/coal-burning stove where pickers and crooner’s could sing and play. I felt something within me stir as the rhythm of the music danced over my being like a thing alive.

At one point when I was seven or eight years old my folks tried to get me a guitar. Tried I say because my hands were too small to wrap around the neck and cover the all the cords needed to play successfully. I have my folks to thank for not killing my dream to pursue music but the guitar was simply not going to be the vehicle to get me there. They were very supportive but also realistic: We could not afford a custom guitar to fit my hands so that was that.

Though I was not going fulfill my dream of stardom by being a guitar picker my folks did noticed something : I loved tapping to the music on the back of the car seat when the radio was on….. and a drummer was born. And tonight listening to live music in a small venue all that came back to visit. Life is good and music is one of my oldest friends. It knows where I am going and where I have been.

Here is a link to the post I wrote about music being my oldest friend almost two years ago. Below is a picture of a kit I have played on to fulfill the ‘and Taking Pictures” part of my place.