I believe in America.
I am a failed singer.
I have loved music all of my life. Sadly, I cannot carry a tune to save my life. It’s a great disappointment for me. But it’s true.
In elementary school, I took piano lessons. In high school, I started playing guitar. I describe myself as a hacker on the guitar and can play some chords. Enough to rough out a song. Very quickly after picking up the guitar, I decided that I was actually a bass player. I spent my late teens and early 20s as the bass player in any band that would have me. (FYI – the bass player gets the second least amount of ass in a band. You’ve got to really be devoted to your craft to pick up the bass. If you’re curious, the hierarchy is right here.)
I am a nontraditional college graduate. I went back to school in my 30s and finished my Bachelors and MBA before I turned 40. I’m proud that I finished school but the decision to go back as an adult was scary.
It’s a Hell of a world.
Not this one. (Well, this one is sometimes.) I’m talking about another world. A shared storytelling universe.