The truth is: I quit playing guitar at the age of 8 just after a month of lessons. Yeah, that’s me rockin the red jumper on Christmas morning. My grandfather, who taught my father how to play guitar, owned a music shop in Brooklyn and my father was now teaching me guitar. They combined their efforts together and gifted me the electric guitar I’m holding for Christmas that year.
The reality of the situation was – I hated playing guitar – I was completely uninspired by having to study guitar by the book in a room, practicing. A few days after this picture was taken I gave them the guitar back and told them I never wanted to play guitar again.
About 14 years later at the age of 22, while in the Marine Corps, I attended a party that one of my Marine friends was throwing in Huntington Beach, CA. When I walked in my friend Tai was passing a guitar around the room and each person was trying to play the main melodic riff from “Blister in the Sun”. The melody to “When I’m walking, I strut my stuff, and I’m so strung out.” One by one, each person tried and gave up. After about ten minutes of watching this go on I shouted out “Give me that guitar, I can play that.” And I did easily. Tai saw that I had an interest and a knack for it so he gave me one of his guitars to hold in my barracks room so I could mess around with it.
When my father found out I was playing guitar again he quickly fixed up an old acoustic guitar that he had lying around in NY and shipped it out to me in California. I’ve played guitar every day since. The rest, as they say, is history..