Wednesday, April 16, 2014

Me, A Guitar, Then And Now...

It's been, what...30 years? Maybe longer. Back when I was in high school and lived across the street with my mother and sister in a house my father partially built, me and a couple of friends were in a band. I played bass,  my friend Todd played the drums and Todd's little brother, Blair was a monster on the guitar (truth be told, Blair was the best musician on all the instruments--Todd and I were pretty green...).

We didn't play too many live performances, but we did have access to a recording studio, pretty much free of charge and could use it whenever we wanted. How many high school garage bands could say that?

I imagine, not many.

We had fun, practiced whenever someone wrote a new song, and recorded after school and on the weekends. As Todd, the master sound engineer, took already recorded tracks and mixed them down so we could add new tracks and mix them down again, I remember laying down on the carpeted floor of the studio, listening to the song over and over again and eating Nabisco Grasshopper and Oatmeal Cream cookies as we waited for another chance to record. Our little band created such classics as Cat Logs, and the ever-entertaining, Corn Dogs Have No Eyes. Yes, we were on our way.

But then, life happened. We grew up, moved away, got married, had kids and mortgages and insurance and expanded waistlines. My friend wanted me to bring my bass to this weekend's Comic Con so I unpacked the Gibson RD Artist Bass and basked in the glory of its awesomeness.

So much has changed in the past 30 years. I no longer live in the home with my mom and sister. We sold the house after my mom died. My sister lives with her daughter in another city. The golden locks of teenage hair I once had (and never really fully appreciated...) are long gone, gone for almost 30 years, and there's no way I could ever fit into the clothes I was wearing, even if they still existed.

As I tried to remember how to play a bass guitar, I attempted to recreate the photo that was taken of me over 30 years ago. It's kind of close--I am holding a guitar and smiling. Now I smile because of all the good times I had attempting to maintain a steady bass line back when life seemed so much simpler.

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