To quote The Fugs, “it crawled into my hand, honest”. Or more like, into my brain.
My dad was a violinist who played in a community orchestra, so I got taken to plenty of classical concerts. Even though I couldn’t articulate it, I was attracted to the sound coming from the cello and bass section. My mom listened to this radio station that played watered-down swingy/jazzy pop vocalist stuff, crooners and the like, and I just went along with that, but at night they would play the classic big band/swing material, and I actually liked it, with its rhythmic emphasis. Plus some Jimmy Smith records she had, so that was my introduction to real jazz.
I had heard and liked what was left of the folk boom, but there was no rock’n’roll in the house, that was considered trash music. However, when The Beatles came along, they bought me the album, I guess to show that they were “with it”. While I was old enough to know about these guys, I wasn’t old enough to care, they were like fad of the month to me.
A couple of years later I decided to finally listen to Top 40 radio, and then I took guitar as a default activity at summer camp, but didn’t get anywhere with it. The top two strings broke, but I would thump out bass type lines on the bottom ones, still not really knowing what a bass in particular was, so you could say it was a calling, an inclination.
After a brief dabbling with drums, and finally grasping the role of the instrument, I got going on it, and got with some guitar playing kids from school. I figured out “Sunshine Of Your Love” and “In The Midnight Hour” on my own right away.