December 2008 Archives

Wish List

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What do I want for Christmas (Festivus, Hanukkah, Winter Solstice, Kwanzaa, your choice)? I want you to check out this website...

www.storyofstuff.com

Love to you and your families, peace on earth, goodwill to all.

Love,
Guy

PS

Thanks to my wonderful wife Le for turning me on to www.storyofstuff.com


It's late, but I can't sleep without saying that I had the best birthday I can imagine. We had an epic show at Gruene Hall down in New Braunfels tonight and I got to play with George Rarey, Nina Singh, Jeff Botta, Oliver Steck, a host of others, and the Baddest of the Bad, Rob Hooper and Will Landin. My mom, wife, daughter, sister, brother in law, step dad, manager, lawyer, tour manager, workout buddies, and longtime fans of every age, walk, and visage filled the very big Godhead Texas King of dance halls and the place reeked of joy. I was given a book of wondrous messages that people sent me through the newsletter that my manager had sent out. When I finally got home my wife handed it to me and it made me cry. What a gift to be so seen and loved, I can not thank you enough, and although that is trite, it is also true.

I am forty years old today. I was born in the winter of 1968, at the Denver City Hospital. In a magical time when phones had cords, TVs had three channels, and Rock and Roll was a Teenager.

I was a geek out cast, a troubled teen, black trench coat mafia, latch key, D&D obsessed, comic bagging, virginal misanthrope.

I ran away and joined the Renaissance Festival circuit, the closest thing to the circus I could find.

I bummed my way around the U.S. and Europe with a guitar on my back and sometimes I fulfilled my childhood fantasy of riding my motorcycle with both a guitar and sword slung across my shoulders, and all the deep heavy metal lyrics made perfect sense. I found my self in the back rooms of music clubs, wrapped in blue and green smoke, shoulder to sweaty shoulder with the same musicians I had listened to on tape cassettes rattling in strangely large Walkmans and after-market, ill-fitted car stereos from the decade before.

I sat on 1,000 bar stools and 5,000 curbs and played guitar in the sun, in the dark, in moonlight, in beerlight, often to crowds of up to 3.

I cheated death by car, knife, three story fall, lightning, hypothermia, sunstroke, bullet, serial killer, and lots more that I am obviously unaware of.

I have had many irreplaceable lovers, and married the girl of my dreams.

I havea  daughter who is the greatest thing of which I have ever been a part.

I have a family of wonders who span the globe.

And to quote Rumi, "and not once has this music stopped flowing to me."

So I am grateful, as in filled with great, although that great is not my own. It is not less valuable that it comes from the outside, it is what makes me.

And I'm quitting smoking, so don't give me one if I ask. If Obama can do it, so can I.


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