There were a lot of really talented musicians at my high school. I wasn’t one of them. Ron Dionisio, for instance. Very talented tenor sax player. He was very proficient, played with a lot of confidence, flavor and fun. Jared Cannon was another. He was a jazz drummer. He could really kick it. While I’m… Continue reading You know what?! Fuck you people.
While i was in the marching band, I joined the school wrestling team. That didn’t last long. I wasn’t very good at it. I can skate and ride a bike well, but I’m generally pretty terrible at athletics. The assistant coach of the team, Father Howarth, was a sleazy queen who seemed like maybe he… Continue reading Paul Green
I started high school in September of 1987. Because I had been in the junior band program in grade school, I automatically enrolled in the marching band program. The way it worked was, school started at 8:15 AM. Band members were to come at 7:30 for practice. The whole marching band all assembled in the… Continue reading Marching Band
At the end of 1986 we moved, yet again, to a new neighborhood. For the previous 2 years, we lived in an apartment in Castor Gardens, a Jewish neighborhood in Northeast Philly. From there, we moved to Frankford, just a few blocks north of the last stop on the Market-Frankford elevated train line. By some… Continue reading What is Bass?
Eventually, I got an electric guitar. I feel like I should be able to remember who I got it from, but I can’t. I think maybe I got it from my cousin, Jesse. Or maybe I eventually sold it to him. I can’t remember. I can’t believe that I can’t remember. Here’s what I do… Continue reading Silvertone
Once you have a guitar with all of it’s strings sitting around all the time, a funny thing happens. You find out that everybody’s dad plays the guitar a little. Like, when your parent’s friends (who are also your friends’ parents) come over for a cook out, the dad sees it sitting around, grabs it,… Continue reading Dudes (dads) With Riffs
Shortly after the senior citizen center incident, that very same grandmother (I had 4) gave me my first guitar. I was at her house one day and there was a guitar sitting on the porch. That was not at all unusual. There were always different items and objects of all types wherever that lady went.… Continue reading Cintioli’s