That's Why I'm Here...

09/29/2017

Every day, I sit down and stare at a blank screen.

Every day, I spend a good chunk of the only free time that I can find sharing music and images and thoughts and facts on a website that I have no way to gauge how many people actually check out.

Every day, I ask myself if it's worth the time and dedication.

Every day, I answer myself with a resounding yes.

Yeah, I know that the chances of this being the new "it" site are one in a billion. I also know that I might possibly be the only one that gets anything out of this.

But that's okay.

I have loved music ever since I can remember. The first album that I bought with my own money was Queen's The Game. My first 45, Joan Jett and The Blackhearts "I Love Rock and Roll." I can't remember a time though when music didn't play a huge role in my life.

When I was little, my mom would go back to visit family and leave my dad and I to forge for ourselves.  He'd stick me in the car and we'd head to the record store. He'd pick up a blues album and I'd browse through the music, rack by rack, devouring the cover art, the many genres and styles. My dad gave me an eclectic taste in music from Robert Johnson to Pavarotti, Bill Monroe to George Jones, Cleophus Robinson to Neil Young.

That's quite a range for someone born in the 70's.

I actually had the chance to meet Bill Monroe in the late 70's. He was a giant towering over me with his big, white hat. But he was very kind and he made me feel special, like he was happy to meet me instead of me staring up at him like an idiot just because he was famous.

My point is, I love music.

Not in a normal "hey, that's a cool song" blow it off effect, but in a profound feel it in your bones kind of way.

I want to share music, I want to talk about music. I want you to feel what it's like when your soul actually has sound.

I was walking through the town of Lahaina one night before dinner and I stopped into a shop on Front Street. I started having a conversation with a guy named Rob. Now, much to my surprise, Rob was just as big of a melophiliac as I am.  (Yeah, I probably just made that word up.) He and I started talking, and it wasn't so much a conversation as it was a moment.

We talked about Fleetwood Mac and The Doors and B.B. King and so many other artists. I was so lost in the conversation that my family could do nothing but walk away and let me have this experience. A true, real moment with a total stranger that I felt such a strong connection had me physically light-headed. Though it wasn't the person that gave me this sense of euphoria, it was the music.

That's what music does to me.

That's what I want to share with you.

Rob and I walked and talked for almost an hour before I came to my senses, or rather my senses came back to me in the form of an eight-year-old
complaining about being hungry and bored.

But I will remember that time, and I will remember that
feeling.

And that is why I will come back to this site, day after day and share my soul with you. Or maybe to no-one, but I don't care.

I do this because I love it.

I do this because someone, somewhere is going to come across this site
and they are going to read something, or listen to something and that one
little show of interest could turn into a spark. And that spark could ignite a fire that burns into a love for all things music.

Let me set you on fire.

Let the music burn your soul.