I guess I should write one of these intros too. I started playing guitar back when I was about eleven, on an old raggity classical that my brother never played, probably because it only had 2 strings on it. I taught myself the bass lines to old classics like Iron Man, Livin Lovin Maid, Dazed and Confused and Smoke on the Water. At fifteen I got my first electric and amp. Other than being taught a few scales, I am completely self-taught. I don’t recommend this method. Take lessons youngins! Along the way I dated a gal who was an awesome pianist and picked up some meager skills on her Fender Rhodes cabinet model. I learned around 20 songs such as, Saturday in the Park, Michelle and Desperado. I’ve since forgotten all 20… except the Snoopy song and The Tubular Bells’ Exorcist theme.

 

My best musical moment was playing at an open mic night at a club called, “The Lighhouse” in Pensacola, Florida. We were set up on a large deck, outdoors (as opposed to those common indoor decks), right on the bay, on a gorgeous, warm summer night. The moon was low and full. It reflected off the bay, it’s ripples causing the reflection to distort up and down as if it were giving all there kisses of approval. (Where's my editor when I need her!) 

 

I knew only the drummer, James. I started to play Jeff Beck’s version of, “Good Bye Pork Pie Hat”. The strong, low western guitar-notes alone at first. Then James kicked in perfectly with the cymbals in crescendo. I was delighted to hear the guy on keys join us at just the right time with sheer perfection. He obviously knew the song well. The three of us alone played the first verse. Then the bass joined in right on cue with a low upward slide ending in A. The other guitarist shouted in a bit of a panic, “What key, what key?” He so wanted to join in. James replied in his silky smooth, Al Green voice, “Its ever changing man.” We made it through the second verse without him. It was one of those rare nights when the set up was immaculate! I was just buzzed enough to be free of the nerves that sometimes strike me lame. I’m listening to it now as I write this. On the third verse the other guitarist kicked in with something that didn’t belong originally, but was awesome none-the-less. From there it became an all out fast, jazzy/blues free-for-all! Everyone took a turn at a solo and performed flawlessly! Somehow we found our way back to the original tune and finished it out slow and easy. The crowd went wild!!! I’ve never experienced anything like it, before or since.

 

I joined MP3Unsigned in August of 06’ just after purchasing my first ever recording equipment… which is very basic. I finally went VIP a few weeks back. I highly recommend it! The downloaded music alone is easily worth more than the meager fifty bones. I now listen to unsigned artists almost exclusively. The great tips, musical feedback, and camaraderie I’ve garnered along the way are priceless.

 

Geographically, I like to travel as much as possible. (as opposed to the non-geographical type of travel). I’ve lived in nine cities in five states. I’ve traveled, recreationally, to the entire U.S. except Alaska and New England. The most incredible site by far was Yosemite. Words cannot describe it! Blew away the Grand Canyon! Other notables are: Parasailing in Hawaii, flying aerobatic stunts over Bodega Bay Ca, and the Ohio River in Louisville on several occasions (4 total), numerous Ski trips in Tahoe (love gettin’ big air), illegally attended 12 Kentucky Derbies, 2 legally (each a unique, wild experience), 2 Indy 500s (I was there for the Rick Mears pit fire and the Andretti-Unser controversy), 2 Laguna Seca Indy races (saw Zanardi straighten out the carousel to beat Herta for the win on the last lap), 20 Sears Point races of various disciplines (bikes included Stew), 2 Petite Lemans’ at Road Atlanta, and 1 Daytona 200 Bike race (winner: Miquel Duhamel).

 

At age two I escaped from the house one night and was found by a man crawling in the middle of a busy two-lane road. He said he thought I was a box and was going to run me over, but was afraid there was an anvil in it. I guess I wanted to go back to the park. As a slightly older child I used to jump my bicycle over, creeks, ponds and garbage cans for money. I made monthly emergency room visits. I’m very scared of heights, but love to be scared. I’ve climbed a 283-foot water tower… twice. I’ve done some unsupervised, unguided, misguided, un-tethered free climbing and brown-water rafting (that’s flooded rivers), got sucked under a submerged bridge once, almost drowned in a poncho (try swimming for your life in one sometime… or not!), done completely insane things on motorcycles, numerous crashes, crashed a 74’ Olds 442 at 95 mph (impact w/3 parked cars at 70, 50 & 40 mph), a 68 Mustang at 55 mph (head-on into a rock wall ((my dog was with me)) slid a 77’ 280Z off a hilly, snow-covered road while sideways, watching my huge rooster tail out the rearview, (at low speed) onto a steep hill (speed now not so low, growing ever less-so) which led to the wrong end of a 50 foot cliff (the top). Luckily some small trees stopped me. By the time I stopped, I was in the passenger seat, my face pressed firmly against the passenger window reaching helplessly and fruitlessly for the steering wheel. I laughed at my predicament… with my arms outstretched. My dog was safely at home. But in the words of Rainman, “I’m d-d-d-definitely an excellent driver… yeeaah (head bobbing side-to-side)”. Wanna’ go for a drive?

 

I shouldn’t tell you guys this, but when I was 16 I was involved in a high-speed police chase that ended with the cop unlawfully firing at my head with a 357 magnum. The bullet crashed through the window, after he rammed me, while I was leaned forward grabbing reverse, and traveled through the driver's headrest into the backseat bringing numerous, rapidly traveling, ballistic-broken-glass pieces with it that hit my face like a shotgun blast, slamming me (again) to the passenger seat. This time I didn’t laugh. I thought I was dead, I was paralyzed, (I guess with shock), but I could feel the warm blood running down my face and could hear the words as the officer opened my eye with his fingers, dropped my limp head, pulled my wallet from my pocket and said, “Call the Coroner.” I guess I was “fixed and dilated” for other reasons. My attorney advised that I could have, should have sued for a few hundred grand, but my Dad would have none of that. Rightfully so I guess. My Mother told me that was the only time she saw my Dad cry. When he saw the photos of the torn interior with the huge, black hole in the headrest… and my shredded face. I was every parent’s nightmare, but I could not contain my need for speed. Six months later there was yet another high-speed chase, shots fired again (in the air I think), but that time I got away. Ever since, I pull over.

 

I was sure that I would die young and therefore tried to get all life had to offer in a hurry. By 25 I realized, if I chill I might just live. Today, there is still a frustrated thrill-seeker in me, but I manage to fight off those urges. Due in part to the following:

 

My Dad cried again in 1991 when one of my brothers was murdered in Cally. We were roommates at the time. I was trying to get to know him better. He was the oldest of seven, I the youngest. He was gay, I am not. We had accomplished a great deal during our time together. I think I helped him feel a lot better about his role in our family. He had always felt shunned. He thought we were all very close… except for him. This, I told him, was simply not the case.

 

He went to a company Christmas party the evening of 12/20. I was supposed to go as well, but at the last minute, declined. The most difficult, scary things I’ve ever done are; identify his body, and break the news to my family. The odd thing is, I had a weird premonition before I moved there, that I would protect him from a man.

 

Instead, I brought his body home to Kentucky in a cold metal box.

 

I’ve never been the same person since. Fifteen years later I’m still unable to talk about it. But I’ve written a great deal of the ordeal. It seems to help. Sorry if I made you sad.

 

This intro has gone to a place I had not planned. I’m wondering if I should post it. If I do will you all disown me? For my misspent youth and my apparent PTSD? If I do, you will no doubt see me in a different light. If I do, you’ll think I was drunk at the time, but I can assure you I am not… yet.

 

If I do? Post or not? Here’s your answer.

I'd watch the film, definitely.

F A C I N A T I N G

Thats the stuff great movies are made of... I've had some lesser moments similar that I would never post... hats off to you Kelly! As probably the only one here if not one of the few... I've had a nice phone conversation with Kelly one night... fact we blew 2 hours just shooting the breeze and talking shop... Kelly is a facinating guy and a great guy and musician....
A fan named Mark

Well, I’m still here. Haven’t been banned, lambasted or even tarred and feathered.

 

Yes Pru, family dynamics can be a challenge. Mine, for me, especially so. Thanks for your kind words!

 

Stew, this just shows how comfortable I am with all here at your great site. There is no one here that makes me even the slightest bit uncomfortable. Not even Ricky. In fact, I feel he’s a huge asset to this site, not only musically, but his antics are a blast. I enjoy them immensely!

 

Bob, It was your intro that inspired me to go the honest, tell all route. A kazllion Kudos back at ya Bro! 

 

Mark and I did have a very easy-breezy convo one night. He’s as personable on the phone as he is on this site. One of the best here!

 

That, unfortunately is barely scratching the surface Tim. Thanks to you and everyone for the kind words!

 

Your turns! Open those closets and air those dirty skeletons!

 

Great read Kelly, must have sore fingers after that! lol