I was musically inclined when I was a kid, playing the ukulele and then the guitar. At 8 or 9 years I became quite an accomplished ukulele player. My neighborhood chums (David Young and Andrew Versola) and myself would play for hours at a time, everyday. By 15 yrs. I was in a band playing at parties and in school functions.
I recall one evening about 12 years old, I was sent to bed early for some unknown reason. Punishment was a rare occasion for me, being the oldest of 5 kids, I could do no wrong, or so I thought. Dad came in my room several times asking me to stop playing the uke and hit the sack. On his 5th time he grabbed the uke and smashed it over my head! This is a true story people. I would have rather have been dragged behind a car then lose my chance to play music. Mom cried.
Okay, I know there are times when a dad does something that he regrets, like the uke bashing, or whatever reason. It’s a test of patience, a test of endurance and test of love. But even I agree that there is a boiling point, that point of no return, that point that you sort of lose it and do something for which you will feel bad about. Well anyways, I learned my lesson…and Dad, he had to go and buy me a new ukulele. Shall we say, lessons learned.
Note: Excerpt from my personal journal