"...I wore a pair of
soccer shin guards
on the outside of my
vinyl pants..."

Biography (continued)

The first band I ever tried out for told me that I was a terrible guitar player and I didn’t get the job. But they asked me if I knew the lyrics to Ozzy’s “Crazy Train” so I became their singer. Not that they had heard me sing yet, but I was at least half way there knowing the words! I played one gig with that band – a pool party during the summer after 9th grade. As far as you know, I ruled! (Thank God there are no video tapes!)

My second gig was a 10th grade talent show. Our set list included “Rock You Like A Hurricane,” “Turn Up the Radio,” and “I Want You to Want Me.” All-in-all, this was a sure recipe for rock and roll greatness. All I remember about this show is that I wore a pair of soccer shin guards on the outside of my vinyl pants. Somehow, this fashionable look eluded the bands who managed to appear on MTV at the time.

For the next few years I played in a variety of bands doing the usual circuit of parties, dances, proms and other low-paying ventures. My repertoire varied from Duran Duran to Bryan Adams to Kool Mo Dee. Looking back, I don’t ever recall fantasizing about being a “rock star.” At the time, that kind of thing seemed out of reach. It seemed more realistic that I could be an astronaut traveling to the moon than to be in a band that actually recorded albums. This kind of went along with my personality that never looked beyond ten minutes into the future. I was always focused on what was happening right then. For better or for worse, I lived in and for the moment and never even considered the concepts of goal setting or planning.

During my senior year in high school I was offered a full scholarship to play guitar in the Gainesville College Jazz Ensemble. The college professor had seen me perform with my high school jazz band and didn’t know that, unfortunately, I couldn’t read music. I BS’ed my way through one semester of jazz band and one day of music theory before the house of cards fell. So half way through my second semester of college I was informed that my scholastic funding had been pulled and my musical services were no longer required by the world of academia. (The only reason I made it through high school is because my parents would take my guitar away if I made anything below a C.) Luckily, though, I was still gainfully employed at Mrs. Winner’s Fried Chicken – so at least I still had a career path (and all the biscuits and gravy I could eat).

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