One year ago yesterday, I got fired from my old band. In that time I've gotten two bands going, both of them really fun. I've learned how to sing a lot better, how to be a kick ass rythym guitar player on the acoustic instead of just a good one, and I've come to embrace the filthy evil grunge beauty that is the Les Paul style guitar, playing leads with damn dirty distortion and grabbing onto the beauty of one amp and one electric guitar in a rock band.
I've figured out how to write and record songs in a short time, and how to record two or three acoustic instruments with one good mic and get some fine music on tape, and I've come to embrace the dark beauty of the banjo.
I've gone a whole year without feeling like I've had to push for what I want, a whole year without a fight with a bandmate, and come to a point where I often find myself jumping up and down while playing with the LOUD band with a gigantic grin, a grin so big it makes me feel like my head's going to split in half from ear to ear, just like Rachel Ray's gigantic mouth smile.
A whole year of people asking me to do things instead of seeing me as a threat or an out of control, over the top freak.
Then again, maybe that's why some of my bandmates like me?
Ce la vie, baby. Either way, things are clicking right along. And as convicted felon Martha Stewart says, "that's a good thing"
So thanks, Bob and The Getaway drivers! I had no idea that I had all that in me, and your sneaky backstabbing ejection of me has turned out to be exactly what I needed!
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