How many times have you heard a famous rock star say something like “I create music for the art of it, not for the fame, money or adoration”? To that I say, what a bunch of bulls**t! It takes an incredible amount of financial investment and deliberate effort to reach rock star status. Those who have reached such heights didn't just stumble into it unwillingly by accident. I have dedicated thousands of hours and tens of thousands of dollars trying to “make it”. However, in the off chance I am wrong and you are one the aforementioned rock stars, please get the hell out of the way and make room for me!
Having said that, I give you the Brutally Honest Bio - A Very Long Story Made Shorter.
I am not unlike so many other musicians in this world. I have spent most of my life working my day job (currently Fire Marshal for the City of Napa in California) while not so secretly dreaming that one day the years of hard work and refusal (more like inability) to quit creating and performing music will pay off and I will catch that “big break”. By “big break” I mean finally riding that the lucky lightening strike that thunderbolts me into rock star status! There it is. I said it and I ain't ashamed.
I was born in Radford VA. My parents packed up the station wagon (yep, the 1970’s big four door white beast with the brown paneling on the side) and brought me, my two brothers and two sisters to California when I was 5 years old. I grew up in a trailer park on the South Side of Vallejo Ca. in the 80’s during the crack-cocaine epidemic. My neighborhood was full of crime, drugs, violence, sex, racial tension and many other terms that could be used to describe the overabundance of negative influences designed to lay waste to my self-esteem and ensure that I would continue the cycle of underachievement. For many years I lived up to the expectation or lack thereof.
As the song “My feel good girl” eludes to, it was a tough time, but I did eventually make it out somehow without going to prison, being drug or alcohol addicted or ending up dead like so many others from my neighborhood. That is not to say I was a saint. I participated in my fair share of mischief. Now, looking back I’ve come to believe I must have had higher power watching over me.
My father was a musician so I grew up hearing my dad plunkin’ away on his old beat up acoustic guitar. I still have that guitar. I realize now that even though it would be years before I would pick up a guitar myself, hearing my father play was having a huge influence on me.
My father met my mother when his band played at her high school dance. Like so many, my father dreamed of rock n’ roll stardom that never came. He told me this was because he got married and had children. His bitterness over this would sometimes rear its ugly head when he drank a few too many. There was a blessing in this though. Although he was at times angry and violent, the alcohol loosened up my father and he would start to express his past musical aspirations to me while showing me how he used to play guitar. My father always put some type of a spin on the chords he would play. As a result, in the beginning I didn’t dare to play “normal” chords. It felt sinful to not throw an extra finger or two in the chord somewhere to make it sound different.
I loved hearing about this side of my dad’s life. So much so that by the time I was 14 years old I had made the firm decision that I was going to be a rock star. While warning me that it was indeed a long way to the top if I wanted to rock n’ roll, my father took me to Andy’s Pawn Shop located in Fairfield Ca. and bought me my first $40 dollar guitar. From that moment the fire was lit and to this day, I have found no substitute to snuff it out!
Eventually I showed enough promise on the instrument that my father had pity on me and purchased a better $140 guitar for me from Gordon’s Music in Fairfield Ca. From there I practiced every day virtually all day (cutting school for weeks at a time, unbeknownst to my parents) while teaching myself how to play. My father was self-taught and so I did the same by listening to all the records from my favorite bands. Eventually my little brother also started playing and we formed our first band. We achieved a good bit of local notoriety at the time and it was like a drug I could not quit doing!
I spent my teen years and my early 20’s pursing rock stardom. Only working menial day jobs as a means to support my music habit. My mind was a flood with music 24-7 and if you had told me I’d never “make it” I would have wanted to punch you in the mouth! Not only did I know I had what it took, I thought I was doing everything I needed to do to make it happen. The key word there, being “thought”. In hindsight, I had many opportunities that probably would have given me the best chance of getting “discovered” but what I couldn’t see then I can clearly see now. I was a shy, insecure, scarred and scared young man with very low self-esteem. I was afraid to leave my comfort zones and make the critical moves that had to be made in order to achieve my dreams. Then at 23 years old, I experienced for the first time, the death of someone close to me. My infant son.
The death of my son happened at the same time the Oakland Hills were on fire. I remember standing on a top floor balcony from his hospital room staring out as hundreds of homes were being devoured by the fire. It was dark so everything had an eerie, smokey orange glow to it. In that moment it truly felt like my world was ending. In hindsight, what a selfish thought. The world was only ending for my son. A complete innocent born into this world with a problem too big for him to overcome. He was on life support and the doctors said a decision had to be made as too when to stop the support. I spent weeks praying that a higher power would step in and take him home so I didn’t have to be a part of the decision to end his suffering by ending his life. My prayer was not answered. The machines were disconnected and his mother and I held him for the excruciating minutes it took for his mighty little heart to stop beating. It goes without saying that this experience had a profound impact on me.
True to form, as any musician worth their salt would do, I poured all of my emotions into my music. Instead of diminishing my desire to play music, the death of my son made me want to pursue my dream even harder in honor of him. Still, the years past and the big break never came. I could list a million reasons why. But, once again in hindsight, I was my own worst enemy.
My mother and father gave me a lot of amazing advice when I was growing up. Unfortunately, most of it I ignored. Because I chose to ignore one of the most insightful pieces of advice my dad ever gave me, my musical aspirations came to a screeching halt. My father told me early on “Son, if you want to play in a band for a living, don’t have a girlfriend, get married and/or have children until you have established your career”. Now at 27 years old, I found myself a single father with two daughters 2 and 3 years old. There was a choice to be made. Be another absent derelict father like so many others in the neighborhood where I grew up, or step up, put my selfish desires aside and be the best father I could be to my daughters. Honestly, the decision wasn’t really that difficult. They owned my heart and I knew what I had to do. I never quit playing guitar and writing music but I did quit outwardly pursuing my dream. Make no mistake though, the dream never stopped pursuing me.
In 2001 I lost my father to cancer. My dad was a solitary man who was hard to know. I loved him with all my heart and needed a love from him in return that he was unable to provide. Or so I thought. As I sit here now I realize that my father gave me one of the biggest love’s of my life. The ability to create and perform music that brings people together. Thank you pops! I miss you!
Fast forward, my daughters grew up, moved out of the house and started pursuing their own passions in life. By this time, I had worked my way into a really great stable “day job” that was providing me with more than I probably deserved. However, something was missing, I was being haunted by the big what if and what could have been. I needed music back in my life to truly feel like I was living! So I resurrected that part of me which will never die, put a band together and starting playing shows again. Things were going great. The band was achieving pretty good results on a local level. The band was in demand and we were selling out 150 seat venues. I was once again living the dream! While still working my day job of course.
Then one of the worst things I have ever had to deal with happened. My mother died. My mother was my rock and best friend. I am not ashamed to admit that I am indeed a momma’s boy. My mother was a living example of what unconditional love means. It is a loss I will never get over. I just keep finding ways to get around it. I was fortunate enough to spend the whole last week of my mother’s life with her. As an adult and now realizing how much worry, pain, sorrow and disappointment I must have caused both my mother and father as they watched me ignore their advice and stumble through life, I made sure to leave nothing unsaid to my mother. My respect and admiration for her were on full display. We had several very quiet moments alone to talk and reminisce. I made many apologies and told my mother that I hoped I had redeemed myself in her eyes and made her proud now that I had transformed myself from a delinquent high school dropout to now being the Fire Marshal for the City of Napa. My mother reached out and grasped my hand and said, “I’ve always been proud of you. You never needed to be anything but my son”.
As I just committed those words to this page I am literally, in this moment having a profound realization. My mother was speaking to that shy, scared little boy with self-esteem so low that he convinced himself early on in life that he had to be larger than life, a rock star in order to be loved and feel worthy. Wow! Even in death my mother is still showing me how masterfully insightful she was. I wonder if you know how much I am missing you mom?
With the recording and release of this cd, a goal that started when I was a young boy is being realized. Despite the revelation I just had above, do I still dream of rock stardom? I’d be a complete liar if I said no. Even though I must admit what my mother could clearly see, I am a man-child who writes music from a fragile, insecure but strong heart that needs a lot of love and attention in order to feel worthy, there is something else in my heart that I think is bigger. I want to inspire! I want to prove that if you truly never quit, you really can make your dream your life. I want this project to be successful as a huge thank you to all of the people in my life who’ve supported me, encouraged me, didn’t let me quit and have told me all these years that I’d be missing my calling if I do not find a way to get my music out there to the world.
Ok universe, I will keep working my **s off but the rest is up to you. Keep Rawkin’!