Some things happen for a reason...

Mid-June 2000.

I had just graduated from Loyola High School in Los Angeles.

There were lots of memories made that summer. My first actual job at The AMC Theaters at the Block, which meant plenty of free movies. SPOP at UC Irvine. Watching Bee in Pageant of the Masters. And purchasing three different guitars...

My dad had a guitar lying around the house for as long as I could remember. Occasionally he'd pick it up and play the same chord progressions and the national anthem and some songs he had learned from a one armed guitarist in the Philippines. I never took much interest in guitar, which, looking back, doesn't really make much sense. You would think that every adolescent boy at some point wants to play guitar, but I never had that moment. At least not until I was 18, graduated from high school, and in the midst of my last summer vacation in my parents' home.

My dad's guitar was in its spot next to the fireplace. And I guess I was bored. Or maybe I had just been listening to the Presidents of the United States of America or Offspring or Blink 182 or the Foo Fighters. Or maybe it was a watershed moment which was forever destined to happen...

Most likely I was bored.

So I pick up the guitar... and it literally breaks in my hands. Folds in half. Neck separates from body. Whoops.

Well, that just won't do. So I take what money I have and go to the Guitar Center in Covina. A couple hours later and most likely after having been talked into a guitar that is out of my price range, I walk out with an Ibanez acoustic guitar, a guitar bag, a Korg tuner, some picks, and a chord book. The salesman tells me that I can choose three chords a week and make up songs all by myself...

I go home and proceed to learn the open chords: A, C, D, E, G. I teach myself a poor man's version of Stairway to Heaven. I discover tabs and learn the finger picking intro to Metallica's Nothing Else Matters (all the way up to the point where there are hammer ons and string bends).

A couple weeks later I decide it's time for an electric guitar. I have a couple paychecks from my aforementioned job at AMC, and I take that money to the Sam Ash in Cerritos. A couple hours later I walk out with an Ibanez Electric Guitar starter kit, which includes a 10 watt amp and a sparkly purple strat-style electric guitar. Before I walk out, a girl takes a look at me and asks her beau, "Why don't you get a set-up like that?"

"Because that shit's for kids."

Ouch...

I go home and play distorted stuff. Somewhere along the line, I learn how to play barre chords...

A couple weeks later I find myself back in the Guitar Center in Covina. This time I'm there to buy turntables. I'm pricing the equipment, and I realize that it's a little more expensive than I thought. A couple hours later I walk out with another Ibanez guitar (brand loyalty much?) only this time it's an acoustic-electric.

I still play this guitar a lot, and I've written most of my songs on it. It's been onstage with me and even traveled to Nashville with me.

Proof-reading this blog got me to thinking... "What's the point of this blog?" And I've come to several conclusions.

- You don't always need a point.
- Some things happen for a reason...
- I love playing guitar
- I loved learning how to play guitar
- I love this blog...