Damn. I’m late as jump into my car to head towards San Antonio.
Guitar…..crap (turns around)
15 years ago, my parents approached me and said “Son, you’re 15 now. School is It’s time for you to get a job.” The thought of flipping burgers, cleaning bathrooms, or any other mundane task sent alarm bells off in my very comfortable 15 year old, video game, summer-time enjoying self. Enjoying the pseudo-confidence of a tennager who thinks they understand the world, I counter-offered. “What if I played my guitar outside of the Starbucks and played for tips? If I made enough money, would that get me out of a summer job?”
Luckily, I had parents who recognized my passion for music and realized that the road to be successful in music is just as hard as any other vocation so they let me try it for a summer. I remember coming home one afternoon with a guitar case full of $1 and $5 (not many) bills and felt elated! What I earned in 2-3 hours took a person working minimum wage 1-2 days to earn. I had proven to my parents and myself that I could work hard and get paid for doing something that I love.
Every month, I make the drive down I-35 to play a couple of shows while visiting my family and friends. It is a subtle reminder of who I was, where I came from, and how I’ve grown. I used to play music wherever I could; by the Riverwalk, sitting on the ground outside of a Starbucks, playing for cookies at a local restaurant, etc. Those memories remind me of the passion that sparked me and now the work ethic and drive sustain me.
I see my exit and drive my car towards the stage of Fralo’s, one of the genesis points of my musical career. I see my family waving at me; the owners and staff of Fralo’s happy to see me, and plenty of new faces waiting to hear what this kid from Austin can do.