Thanks Christine! I appreciate it. You are motivating me! I'm remembering when I was little and had a little organ. I used to jam along to sports games on TV playing the "Charge" theme. Here's the story (probably not really about my organ :-)
I don't have kids. My little picture avatar thing is a shot of me the very first time I ever touched a guitar! That picture means a lot to me. It was taken on Christmas Day 1967. I was 4 1/2 years old. My Dad had left my Mom shortly before that and married a beautiful redhead! I visited for the first time that Christmas. I couldn't believe it when they gave me a little electric guitar and amp! My Dad was a wild entrepreneur. He'd say he sold everything from men's suits to canned salmon. Car lots, Ranches, Glass shops, Hunting guide in Alaska- yes unfortunately I have a Polar Bear rug and a stuffed cougar in storage.) Lumber yards, taverns, fish farms, on and on. Every time I visited, he was somewhere else with a new business. I was in total awe of him. My mind was literally blown when he came up with that guitar. I loved music, even that young, and everybody knew it. I took my "new rig" home, but sadly we had a house fire and I lost it. (Not the last time that would happen), My mom gave me a little electric organ to replace the guitar. I really wanted to play guitar. I was inspired by my Mom's records-Roger Miller, Elvis, Neil Diamond, George Jones etc. I pleaded for a guitar when I was 9 and I got a classical acoustic. At 10 years old my new teacher Sister Celeste- a young Franciscan nun, found out I was playing guitar at home. She asked me to bring it to school the next day, which was a Friday. She showed me some new chords and saw what I knew. Then she told me she was starting a new Church service at 11:00 Sunday and calling it "Folk mass!" She wanted me to play guitar while she played piano! That Sunday! I told her I was an altar boy. She said I could quit serving mass and play guitar. I was good enough already. Just strumming easy cowboy chords. I was SO happy! I played Folk mass almost every Sunday for the next 5 years! Never, ever nervous for some reason. Probably because I didn't have to sing. I still remember that at the first Folk Mass we played, we unleased a new song she had taught me on the Parish. " I Am the Resurrection". I was amazed how I could see the people respond with their bodies when they heard us start in with an up-tempo folk rocker! Like they were waking up, hearing it for the first time. Lively, happy, not like the songs we had been singing in mass before Sister Celeste arrived. Everybody smiling at us and moving in the pews! Over the years we accompanied choirs and special guests. Funerals, baptisms on and on. Such great memories. If the line to communion was really long on Easter or other holidays, and we already played what was planned, sometimes she would whisper to me to play Blackbird to help fill time. I received super funny looks from people who knew the Beatles White Album. Glad she didn't want Revolution #9!
Anyway, I then went on to a private high school that my Mom could not afford, and I knew it. One day the band leader asked me if I wanted to be in the jazz band. I told him I really wanted to, but I had surprisingly made the basketball team, and I also needed to work after school and on weekends to help with my tuition. I thought maybe next year I'll concentrate on guitar again. It didn't happen. I regret it, but not too much. I lost the organ in another fire by the way.
(Sorry I'm such a blabbermouth. "Talking" a break, waiting for Tomo's new video on YouTube today.)
Kurt
"Don't trip over things behind you". - Ariana Grande