Title speaks for itself, I think. I was just thinking about the time I was suckered into playing guitar for my ex girlfriend's (she was my girlfriend at the time) vacation bible school thing, and I ended up playing praise music and singing for a bunch of little kids, like early elementary school kids. It was pretty awesome watching all those kids sing along and sway to the music, and the best part was when my girlfriend (she was a singer) asked for requests and this little girl, couldn't have been older than six, stood up and in the tiniest voice asked if we could play her twinkle twinkle little star. My girlfriend smiled and said, "I think we can work something up." and turned to me and the piano player. Piano guy leaned over to me, whispered a key, and we were off.

I didn't want to fill in that day, but watching that little girl's face light up when we started twinkle twinkle little star made it more than worth it.

On the first date I ever had with my then future wife, she wanted me to play her a song on the guitar. She'd seen me play with a band several times, and knew I was a musical type of guy. The only song I could recall on such short notice??? "Why Don't We Get Drunk And Screw"! 2 years later she married me, so I guess it wasn't the deal breaker it sounds like it could have been. When people ask us what "our" song is they get totally different answers from the two of us. (She claims it's "You Can't Always Get What You Want" which was her favorite song that I sang back in the olden days.)

Lots of memorable moments...but in the same vein, I would have to say it would be the Panoply of the Arts Festival in Huntsville, Alabama. I was in a classical music group that played there back around '94 or so. We did all the usual stuff (Bach, Beethoven, Wagner, Verde...etc.) But we also did a lot of traditional stuff like "Sicilian Tarentella" and "Greensleeves," and others like that. Well, we did three shows as it was a three day festival. The first day was on a Friday and it was only open to local schools. So they bussed hundreds of local school kids out for afield day to see the acts and get thier faces painted and enjoy themselves before the weekenders arrived.
Anyway, several hundred people; mostly kids, filled in to watch us perform. For the first few pieces, the kids were obviously bored. (who knew that Moonlight Sonata wouldn't excite kids?!:rolleyes:)
Well, after a few pieces we decided to liven things up with "Sicilian Tarentella." Now if you aren't familiar with this particular song, it is the quineticential Italian song. Very upbeat, very lively, and it is impossible to listen without clapping your hands along with the beat.
So within seconds of the start of the song, the kids were wide awake and clapping along. By the end, they were fanatical. Screaming thier little heads off for more. We finished out the show with a few more upbeat pieces and then we were done.
We took all of our music stands and instruments and everything down and made our way to the backstage area. We spent quite a bit of time putting outr instruments away and folding our music stands. Once I got my bass cased up and got my music stand put away, I was the first to exit the rear area. When I opened the door there were literally about 150 kids standing there. As soon as I opened the door, I was met with loud cheers and screams. It was kinda scary to be honest. I didn't know what they wanted from me. Well, a few other musicians came out to see what was going on and they screamed even louder.
They began asking for autographs and pictures and it was all the usual rock star treatment. So we began signing autographs for them. We signed autographs for a long time. We psoed for some pictures. Gave lots of hugs. Had lots of fun. Then one little girl, who had been in the back I suppose (or maybe had just wandered up late) caem to me and asked if I would give her an autograph. I said "of course I will!" I had a sharpie that I had been using for the others. I asked if she had paper or a ticket stub or something. She replied by offeringher forearm. I said, "sweetie you don't want me to write on your arm." Let me find some paper for you. She said, "no I want you to sign my arm." I was very reluctant. Well then an older lady approached was turned out to be the mother. I told her that her daughter wanted an autograph but she wanted it on her arm and I didn't know if that was s good idea with a sharpie. So mom, clearly not wanting me to use a sharpie to draw on her daughter, dug around in her purse and produced a marker with non permaenet ink. She said, "she uses this one to draw on herself all the time. It washes right out." So I took the new marker and signed her forearm.
She had the biggest smile on her face after that. Then she hugged me and thanked me and that was that.
I don't think I will ever forget that. :D

I used to play with a jazz band in high school that was filled with total long-haired miscreants and criminals. I got a great deal of joy out of playing for some library opening or historical society fundraiser, and breaking out a Brecker Bros. track or something of that sort. We would shock half the audience, make the other half get up and dance, and then steal something valuable on the way out. You could easily find half the band after a performance, piled into a hatchback with plumes of smoke and a street sign or two coming out of it. Our band director was torn between laughing and tearing his hair out. It was a good time to be alive.

Back when I was 13 years old. We went to my uncles house. It was a typical November in Saginaw, snow up to your butt, already dark at 4pm, I was bored stiff. This was the first time I had ever met my uncle and I had no idea that he played music. He took me to his basement and there was a piano and a drumset and some guitars and some basses. He turned everything on and told me to have fun. He left and went back upstairs. I dinked around on all the stuff as I had no idea what the hell I was doing. Then I picked up the bass. It was a fender P-bass. For some unknown reason it spoke to me. I actually was able to play some lines that I'd heard over and over while growing up. I even used my fingers! A few hours later my dad and uncle came down to tell me it was time to go, I begged to stay longer so I could keep playing the bass. But my dad had to be to work in the morning early so we had to leave. Then it happened, My uncle put the bass in it's case, unplugged the amp and said "Here you go, I have enough basses, I can part with this one." Turns out what he gave me was a 1966 P-Bass and a bassman amp! If it were not for his generosity, I would probably never have become a bass player...I owe him a great debt.

Back when I was 13 years old. We went to my uncles house. It was a typical November in Saginaw, snow up to your butt, already dark at 4pm, I was bored stiff. This was the first time I had ever met my uncle and I had no idea that he played music. He took me to his basement and there was a piano and a drumset and some guitars and some basses. He turned everything on and told me to have fun. He left and went back upstairs. I dinked around on all the stuff as I had no idea what the hell I was doing. Then I picked up the bass. It was a fender P-bass. For some unknown reason it spoke to me. I actually was able to play some lines that I'd heard over and over while growing up. I even used my fingers! A few hours later my dad and uncle came down to tell me it was time to go, I begged to stay longer so I could keep playing the bass. But my dad had to be to work in the morning early so we had to leave. Then it happened, My uncle put the bass in it's case, unplugged the amp and said "Here you go, I have enough basses, I can part with this one." Turns out what he gave me was a 1966 P-Bass and a bassman amp! If it were not for his generosity, I would probably never have become a bass player...I owe him a great debt.

Now that's the stuff that dreams are made of!:D:bassist:

Now that's the stuff that dreams are made of!:D:bassist:

I wish he was still alive so he could see how I turned out and what an influence he was, however he died just a year later.

mine i think was my junior year of high school. I played baritone in the wind ensemble. We did a rendition of Oh Danny Boy. The melody was played by the lead chairs of trumpet, baritone, and trombone .. while most everybody else sat and did nothing.
I think that was the only time I had a solo, or played the melody. (trombone, baritone, and tuba were my instruments I played back then.)

When I picked up the bass guitar last year and started playing, after a month or two I remembered that, and started to play the song on bass. Only missed a few notes on it, lol .. I remembered the rest of them even though I played it on a different instrument.

I also enjoyed playing jazz band in high school, played bass trombone there.

Wish mine could be kids or girlfriends. But its just musical.

It was an important gig for us. Lots of the movers and shakers in the town attended it. We play outdoors, 7-9pm.

At noon, the (guy) lead singer’s wife went into early labor. We’re freaking about finding a replacement.

Within 20 minutes, our keys guy, who is very well connected in town, had us a replacement. A woman. Does a lot of studio/jingle work in town. A real pro.

We meet her for the first time one hour before show time. We go through the set list, and sort into:

1. No problem.
2. No way.
3. With a little work…

We go through all of the “with a little work” numbers during sound check. And we find quick replacements for the “no way” numbers.

Then we go onstage…

First number rocked the town.

Second number was a “no problem.” It was “Moondance.” Except it was the WRONG KEY for her.

She sang it anyway, moving effortlessly between octaves, and improvising transitions between octaves. The song had never sounded that way before, and no one will ever sing it that way again. But it was beautiful. We were all entranced, knowing we were seeing a one-of-a-kind performance.

The rest of the night went wonderful. We got signed for next year, and picked up a couple weddings and a corporate event or two. Magic night.

Enter Musicianship 2.

The class is practicing the Bach Chorals. I can't remember the specific piece we were working on at the time, but one of the head chair ladies had walked into our class to take pictures of us practicing. So we start going through the Choral. Keep in mind most all of the Bach Chorals take less then a minute and half to preform. Midway through, the lady leaves the room in a flustered rush. Most take notice, but we all keep preforming through. Upon finishing, we start to question amongst ourselves why she left so suddenly. One of the Sopranos speak out,

"She left. She left crying. She was crying because the music was so beautiful."

Sometimes, I wonder what life would have been like had I chose to Musical Performance(Tenor) as opposed to Musical Composition. I can only hope that one day my works can move a person as to the extent of that day.

http://b0.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/00612/02/38/612718320_l.gif

Back when I was 13 years old. We went to my uncles house. It was a typical November in Saginaw, snow up to your butt, already dark at 4pm, I was bored stiff. This was the first time I had ever met my uncle and I had no idea that he played music. He took me to his basement and there was a piano and a drumset and some guitars and some basses. He turned everything on and told me to have fun. He left and went back upstairs. I dinked around on all the stuff as I had no idea what the hell I was doing. Then I picked up the bass. It was a fender P-bass. For some unknown reason it spoke to me. I actually was able to play some lines that I'd heard over and over while growing up. I even used my fingers! A few hours later my dad and uncle came down to tell me it was time to go, I begged to stay longer so I could keep playing the bass. But my dad had to be to work in the morning early so we had to leave. Then it happened, My uncle put the bass in it's case, unplugged the amp and said "Here you go, I have enough basses, I can part with this one." Turns out what he gave me was a 1966 P-Bass and a bassman amp! If it were not for his generosity, I would probably never have become a bass player...I owe him a great debt.

Holy crap!!! Why can't I be you...:eek:

I used to play with a jazz band in high school that was filled with total long-haired miscreants and criminals. I got a great deal of joy out of playing for some library opening or historical society fundraiser, and breaking out a Brecker Bros. track or something of that sort. We would shock half the audience, make the other half get up and dance, and then steal something valuable on the way out. You could easily find half the band after a performance, piled into a hatchback with plumes of smoke and a street sign or two coming out of it. Our band director was torn between laughing and tearing his hair out. It was a good time to be alive.

You just described, to a T, my high school jazz band experience.

the singer of our band does a lot of solo work around the local cafes and stuff on the afternoons. she's got an incredible voice, really really soulful.

she did a cover of Eva Cassidy's "somewhere over the rainbow" a couple of sundays back when I was running the PA for her. that song has always been pretty personal to me, and very personal to her... I looked over and she had a tear in her eye singing it, and when I saw that I couldn't stop myself from crying either. it was a surreal couple of minutes... but I've never known music to be so beautiful before, and I don't think I ever will.

My favorite musical moment?

The first time I heard Anthems for a Seventeen-Year-Old-Girl by Broken Social Scene.

Last year I had a party for the hockey team (fifteen 10 year olds) I coach at my house and one of my players saw that I had guitars in the basement and asked if he could try out my Les Paul. I reluctantly let him and man could this 10 year old play. No Yngwie, but VERY advanced for his age. I pulled out a bass and we jammed AC/DC, Iron Maiden and a few other bands for an hour or so in front of most of the kids and 20 or so parents.

It was very cool considering I didn't know the kid played and nobody knew I had played bass all my life.

the singer of our band does a lot of solo work around the local cafes and stuff on the afternoons. she's got an incredible voice, really really soulful.

she did a cover of Eva Cassidy's "somewhere over the rainbow" a couple of sundays back when I was running the PA for her. that song has always been pretty personal to me, and very personal to her... I looked over and she had a tear in her eye singing it, and when I saw that I couldn't stop myself from crying either. it was a surreal couple of minutes... but I've never known music to be so beautiful before, and I don't think I ever will.
Must have been a once-in-a-lifetime moment. I want one of those.

Warmest moment were hearing my kids - my youngest playing Rimsky-Korsakov's "Procession of the Nobles"'s flute part...effortlessly. She's 14. Hearing my son (now 18) play anything of vibes/marimba with the band and percussion ensemble....when we don't have a keyboard in the house. When I asked how he learned his tunes the first time I heard him, he pulled out the dinky kiddie keyboard that a relative bought when they were really young. The best is walking down the hall to my eldest daughter's room (now 20) an hearing her sing Nora Jones tunes like there's nobody listening (but don't ask her to sing anything in public).

The warmest memory for me was in high school during the drama club's spring musical. The other musicians would leave at intermission, but the director asked the keyboard player, the drummer, and me to stay and play some jazz trio stuff. It was more fun than playing the shows! The drummer became a staff artist/art director for Rolling Stone magazine, and the keyboard player is now a Tony-award winning composer. I just write stuff here on Talkbass :)

Meeting Metallica then seeing them live for the first time. Greatest day of my life thus far.

When my mom showed me this for the first time about a year ago when I was visiting:
http://www.just-j.net/images/DSCN0263.JPG

I was about 3 in the picture. I remember my mom's boy friend at the time taught me a little guitar. Have a good memory of the first time he strapped one of his electrics on me and showed me some chords.

watching this annoying kid have his nose broken in the mosh infront of us playing.......that was truely beautiful..... and karma.

watching this annoying kid have his nose broken in the mosh infront of us playing.......that was truely beautiful..... and karma.

lol

first jam with a friend.

Biggest gig I ever played was really amazing. I think it was ~3500 people. The crowd reactions, the music...everything was perfect.

Also a few weeks ago I had a jam session with my band and we had one of those moments where the guitarist was talking about structure or something, and then I just played a simple, funky bass line. My drummer started laying down a beat behind it, and my exasperated guitarist finally gave up and just started playing with us. We carried that jam on for at least 20 minutes, just playing off each other's signals and body language. The groove and everything was just so tight. It was the most transcendental experience ever.

i think my "warmest" moment was a birthday gig for my girlfriends friend
the thing that made this gig special was the fact that her friend (sophie) was a goth she'd been walking home one night when a group of chavs jumped her and her boyfriend they left rob (her boyfriend) with brain damage but sophie wasnt so lucky and she died of her injuries 2 weeks later she was just 20 years old
a gig was thrown in her honour and seen as i knew her my band was invited to headline at 12 o clock instead of a moments silence we had a moments noise it was nothing musical the band and myself just beat the living snot out of our instruments we reached 127 decibels then everyone sang happy birthday after which they released balloons it was a great send off for a very special girl

Some great stories here...
One more:

We were playing a gig in a park in a college town, a park where lots of homeless people and drunks (as well as the local students) hung out. At the edge of the field I see a guy, really drunk, and with a really violent vibe, start walking in toward the music. I was also a bouncer at the time and tended to notice stuff like that, and this guy was a fight waiting to happen. We were playing a Bob Marley song, as as he walked into the range of the music he started swaying and his whole vibe changed almost with each step that he took. By the time he was in to where the crowd started to get dense he was smiling and dancing, just had a totally different energy.

It was amazing seeing that clearly and directly the positive impact that music could have on a person.

That band also had a woman who followed us, she was a caterer and during the last set she'd go outside and set up a meal on the hood of our cars so when we were done we'd have some good grub. Just out of the goodness of her heart. People like that make it all worthwihle.

Getting accepted into Humber was a great thing musically for me.

While I've been at Humber, many things have given me warm things. Let me tell a few :)

For our recital at the end of the semester, usually everyone solos. I HATE soloing. Just not comfortable doing it. So, Pat Kilbride and Mark Kelso (My teachers for one ensemble) ask me why. So I explained why, and Pat simply said "you're soloing".
So, after class we talked and then the following Monday, after my lesson, Pat took me aside, took out his fretless, and plugged in and made me plug in and asked me to solo over "Red Clay- Freddie Hubbard" after he showed me a few things.
So, I soloed back and fourth, for about 10-15 minutes.
Then Pat just complimented me. Left and Right. Told me that I had phrasing that professionals who have been on the scene for 30 years don't have.
So...that was a kick in the ass. I didn't know how to respond. Especially cause Pat's the kinda guy who isn't a bull*****er.


haha I have lots of stories. All make me warm inside. :)

My dad never wanted to be a rock star, but he always wanted to rock. But, he had neither the time nor patience to learn guitar/whatever. I was in a cover band with my uncle, and my dad was the manager (get us gigs) and ran lights. We'd always have him come up on stage and do La Grange. He would really get into it/rock out/etc. It was a great father-son bonding thing, since we both loved music overall, and it was great being on stage with my dad.

My dad got lung cancer (DON'T SMOKE THE CIGS!!! Seriously), before he passed, the said cover band had a benefit for him... pay some bills and stuff. After a few songs, he got up and did La Grange again, afterwards, he called my mom up to the stage.

He regretted that he never proposed to my mom, they went to pick out a ring together and basically said, "Well, I guess we're engaged now." Before he died, he wanted to make it up to her. After performing, he got down on one knee and proposed to her and gave her a ring. It was a beautiful moment, but he was so weak from Chemotherapy Treatment that he struggled to get up, lost balance, and needed help to get up. It was at that moment that I realized that my dad was going to die. My uncle (the singer for the cover band) looked at me with tears in his eyes and said, "Your dad is an amazing guy." I, with tears in my eyes replied, "I know." Since my uncle is not one to show emotion that often, he trudge on into the next song which was, "The Weight" by the Band. The first verse was sang through a crying/breaking voice that I will never forget.

Perhaps not warm, but that moment taught me a lot about not living with regret. We don't all know we are going to die a month or two in advance and take care of these regrets.

Toots and Jaco playing 3 Views of a Secret. Hands down.

Our band came in to play a backyard BBQ that a father had put together for his son who just returned from Iraq. Perfect 70 degree cloudless day with maybe 150 people that came by throughout the day. The dad was into Harleys and hot rods and it was quite a sight seeing all them pretty machines lined up and down the streets. They had cold beer and a southern style BBQ trailer pulled around serving everything from pulled pork BBQ to oysters to hot links. The band was really on that day, too.

The strange dynamic was that the older crowd was really into our music, however his son and friends really weren't, so 20-30 of them spent the afternoon at a table around the side of the house. For the last song we go from playing southern rock, blues and country to Sabbath's War Pigs. We had a small "on the spot" debate amongst the band as to whether or not we should play it under the circumstances. We decided it was a go, made the disclaimer that we were all vets and let her rip. The song brought everyone together - oldies on their feet and the youngsters from around the side of the house. Glasses raised, the father and son stood side by side screaming out the lyrics to that song and we of course played it out for a while. Wasn't trying to make any kind of political statement then (or now!) - but it was a pretty awesome moment. We jammed out an encore of Free Bird while everybody danced (including all the hot girls that had been hiding around the side of the house all day). We really rocked that song as well and at the end, our usually stoic drummer was really overcome with emotion - started shouting and throwing sticks into the crowd. Who says cover bands can't have their "rock and roll moment"?!?!

Interesting that song evokes great crowd response every time. The first time our band played out last year, we opened for a friend's band that did parodies of 80's metal hair bands. The last song we did was War Pigs and guys from their band rushed the stage to sing it out with us. Very spontaneous and the crowd loved it...

Guess it is hard to call a Sabbath tune warm and beloved, but...

I had two of my best friends and music partners die of cancer.

In both cases old bands where regrouped for, I don't know what you would call it, last hoorah gig' maybe?

Anyway, without a doubt, the most beautifully painful experiences I've ever had onstage or anywhere else for that matter.

Seen as I've only been playing a year, I really don't have anything on the scale of some posters

But there is one moment I will never forget. I was called to my Christian Union band for a performance. We did our 'set' and then began to pack away. Then I spotted one of the bands other bassists, and without saying anything he said " That was excellent playing" This was from a much better and more experienced player, and made all the tears, time spent locked away in the practice room and patience worth it.

At a thanksgiving party, right before my birthday, my uncle came over along with the rest of our relatives. Little did I know that he was apparently a very very good musician, in fact he played piano and guitar. So eventually my mom tells me to bust my fender out and play while he plays on the piano. He taught me a few jazz standards, and we played a few blues tunes before he left.

The next day, he came over with an extra cable and a fresh set of strings for my old guitar, and we played a bunch of hard rock.

Playing for the first time on stage at an open mike and clearing the room. Makes ya think about what bands including some of the greats went through when they were starting out.

I think it was after this we had an outdoor jam and afterwards these two people who were hanging in the area said they enjoyed us and gave us free weed. Coolest folk i ever met under the coolest circumstances.

Mind you I'm 57 so I go back to the days of radio and early TV. I was very small when my sisters and me went to one of their friends homes. The had a pretty nice record player that had good bass (relatively speaking). It was the 1st time I ever really heard what the bass did for music. That's where it all started for me.

My warmest moment was back in 2001. It was my first real gig playing bass, and I had an awesome band with me. We were playing for the bands' managers birthday. We were on a big deck in their backyard, full PA and soundman. Tiki torches burning, BBQ cooking, and beer flowing free.

Toward the end of the set, we broke into Floyd's "Comfortably Numb" in honor of our hosts, huge PF fans. We played the song while huge fireworks went off in the sky behind us. No one, not even us, saw it coming, but it was the most beatufiul, crushing version of that song I've ever played.

A few years ago I helped a local youth pastor, now pastor, with a young adults Bible study group. He played acoustic, and I did too, and I would just do fills and harmonize with him as he led worship. We had about 20 people in the group, both boys and girls, and our music was a real attraction for them. There was a girl there, a friend of mine, named Becky and she would come regularly. She'd be right up there singing and listening every Tuesday evening. I even gave her an old guitar of mine since she showed interest in learning.

One day she was driving home and was praying for her future husband, who ever it was going to be. She prayed and said, "Lord, whoever my husband is going to be, let him play guitar as good as Matt (me)" She told me that on our honeymoon. That guitar is now leaning against the wall in our living room as a token of how God brought us together. I guess that's God's way of saying, he's the best I've got. :D

Mine would probably have to be at a funeral I went to. I know, not the best place to be thinking about music... Anyways, I was 10 years old, and it was my great-grandmother's funeral. The pallbearers picked up the casket, and were then lead down the aisle to the hearse by a Scottish man in full kilt and uniform playing "Amazing Grace" on bagpipes. It drew me to tears, and whenever I hear that song on bagpipes, I remember my great-grandma. Rock on, guys...

During my senior year of college I had a party band and we played a Rugby Party. Between sets I was drinking shots with a guy from the team who I know from class. There was a girl there that I have known who came over to say "hi". I introduced them to each other then excused myself to play the next set. Fast forward 2 years later I ran into them at the grocery store and they were Married! They told me they talk about me and the band in the "how'd you meet each other" conversations. When I play gigs now I think about that. I think about how playing live can mean something to people.

In 1999 (week before last, right?) I was living in England and a friend of mine was managing Scotty Moore and DJ Fontana (Elvis' original guitarist and drummer). They were touring England and Scotland with four backing musicians (great guys and great musicians) from London; I traveled with them some and drove Scotty and DJ to interviews as I had a large (by English standards) right-hand drive car...

They were playing a gig in Birmingham and we were expecting Robert Plant to come to the show (a buddy of his owned the venue). I knew where they were going to be sitting and had taken over one of the three empty seats reserved for George and Olivia Harrison (who we thought would not come, as he liked his privacy, even though he and Scotty (and my friend, Dan) got along well). Robert Plant comes in with a couple of buddies and their girlfriends; they sit down and I give them some space - eventually I ask him if he's been back to see Scotty. He says, "No"; then asks (somewhat excitedly), "are you with the band?" Must have been my American accent... I say I am and he says (with eyes a little wider), "Can you take me back there?" I say, "Sure," and take him and his guitar playing buddy backstage - I leave them alone and they visit with Scotty for 10 or 15 minutes and then come back in time to see the band play.

The coolest part was immediately after the show, as RP was getting up to make a hasty exit (during the show people would recognise him and nod or shake his hand, he was cool with it). His friends were leading the way but after taking about three steps he stopped and turned to me, shook my hand, and delivered a warm and sincere thanks, before continuing on his way.
You think about it, he is probably one of the more recognizable, noteworthy (and wealthy) stars still living (even if one likes the Stones and/or the Beetles more), and you always hear stories about how snooty some stars are. So, I thought it was pretty cool that he was so appreciative when he could have just continued his quick exit.

Weird. I've been playing music for years and years, but I can't think of any "warm" or "beloved" occurrences! I've had GREAT and cherished moments, and moments where I've been proud, or elated. A bunch of funny and OMG moments.

I have one that is about music, but not a musical event.

A long while back I was out of work, living in my sister's dirt basement, no money, no car without which I couldn't readily join a cover band with no reliable way to get to gigs or travel. So I took up a "straight" job working in a lumber yard.

At my next family reunion I was thinkin', "Well Grandpa will be happy I've found good, honest hard labor type work instead of knockin' around in some rock band". He was a man's man kind of guy - rancher, logger, owned his own cement business - kinda gruff and loud.

So I tell him what I'm doin' for a livin' and he gets back in my face and says "WHY THE HELL AREN'T YOU PLAYIN' YOUR MUSIC?".

This was a beloved moment for me. I really miss the guy

Ryco, that's a great moment. I stopped playing regularly in 1973, and even quit singing in the choir. Yet my Mom and Dad would ask at least once a year: "Are you doing anything with music?"

I guess they knew how much I enjoyed playing. Or perhaps they didn't want to think that seven years of piano lessons were totally wasted!

Oh, yeh: Mom, Dad, I'm in a band again and loving it!