This Saturday, June 14th I celebrate my 59th birthday. But it’s a much bigger day to me, because it marks the 40th anniversary of getting my very first guitar; a Narada dreadnought my father gave me for my 19th birthday in 1974. Interestingly enough I had planned on asking for a guitar for my high school graduation the year before, but after a friend showed me how to play a C chord on a classical guitar, something I found incredibly difficult, hell, impossible, I opted for something else. And it must have been inconsequential because I have NO idea what my graduation present was.
That fall I went off to college to SMU in Dallas, TX. That year was the first year without having music a daily part of my life. I’d been active in choirs for the previous 12 years, as well as having music class as part of a daily curriculum. Those were the days. I can’t tell you how much I missed participating in making music. Listening to music for me has always played less of a role in my day-to-day existence than making music has; it was true then and it’s true now. So I felt lost. But I was lucky enough to become friends with two classmates, Bill Glass and Mike Crane, who were very fine guitarists. I would hang out with them and listen while they played everything from the Beatles to James Taylor tunes to Allman Bros. staples like Midnight Rider. Mike was also a fine fingerstyle guitarist and was doing a credible job on tunes like Duane’s Little Martha, and Leo Kottke’s The Fisherman, two tunes I still perform to this day and are recorded on my albums Homecoming and Whistlin’ Past the Graveyard respectively. The fact that I had two friends who were fine guitarists somehow proved to me that I too had what it took to play the guitar. Not sure why that was, but there’s something about watching peers do something that makes me think I can too. I started begging for a guitar as soon as I got back to my suburban Chicago home in mid-May after finals. And my dad listened. Continue reading