Behind my mother’s parents house was a small aluminum shed, full of packed away years of raising kids. It was a veritable treasure chest for a six year old if you will.
I discovered my uncle’s electronics kit complete with diodes, transistors and a peg board. From there I unearthed marbles, Jules Verne, rocks, tops, ventriloquist dolls, old erector sets, tubes, reel to reel tape recorders, the book of Revelation, and somehow, Lon Chaney’s ghost.
My father on the other hand was an avid mountain man, complete with razor strops, moonshine, red and black checkered wool jackets, coon dogs, traps, guns and yes, a Martin D28.
There was a big black toy box in the basement with his childhood artifacts as well.
In there I found 1950’s baseball cards, a money changer, a home made pinup magazine with images of Jane Russell and the like sewn onto the pages of a spiral-bound notebook, a chemistry set and a first aid kit with patches from WWII.
I suppose these are the things that form the skeletal imprint of our adult endeavors.
How this helped form a musical alchemy will always be a mystery, but it did and still does.
Welcome to my little myosphere, let’s talk.
