Music...

I have always loved the guitar. My mom gave me a picture the other day when I was around 8 with a guitar in my hands. I had forgotten that I ever had that guitar. Now I really never learned to play guitar back then, other than "Home on the range" but I do remember being so proud of that guitar back then. Now I went through a time where I did not have a guitar. I played trumpet, barritone, tuba in band in high school, but after school the music dried up. Then one day my wife and I became friends with some people and he kindled the musical fire back into me. It was like turning on a heater that had not been burned for a while, that smell of burning dust was horrible for a while but I got better and the fire returned. Then I got into the guitar. First I started just messing around and then got into the Bass Guitar, then started playing chords on my Dad in Laws old electric. And then I got my first acoustic and started playing in front of people. I was looking at that old picture and saw the same happiness I feel every time I pick up a guitar and strum a few chords. Now I am delving deeper into the music, writing and even playing one of my songs in church. It is a humbling experience, but exciting as well.
I remember an old song called "American Pie", it was popular back in the 70s where it spoke abou the day the music died (the deaths of Richie Vallens, Buddy Holly and the Big Bopper for you music historians). When I saw that old picture of me, I saw the day the music was born, lived through the days when the music died and was reborn and am enjoying the life that music has brought.