Gut Rumbles

March 01, 2008


Originally published April 18, 2003

The boys are savaging that pizza like a two-man pack of hyenas. I suspect that they will eat the whole thing. I keep my hands out of their way when they go into a feeding frenzy like they're doing right now.

My hands...

I don't really have the hands to be a musician. I have wide hands with short, stubby fingers. Those are blacksmith's hands. They don't fit a guitar player. I could be good at forging horseshoes. I am built for that kind of work. Everything I do on stringed instruments comes from "WANT TO," not talent. I have worked my ass off at it and I will NEVER be as good as I want to be.

I don't have the hands for what I really want to do.

Music is in my blood and I always will play as long as I have... my hands. I feel a spiritual joy when I play in the Crackerbox all by myself. I like the feeling even better when I get together with friends and we do the Home-Made Band thing. Sometimes the music gives me goosebumps.

I own seven guitars. I can't play a damned one of them as well as I want to.

I just don't have the hands for it.

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