The Fantastic 4th of July!

Today was one of the most anticipated days for me as a kid: Independence Day. It still is! As I wake this morning, we are staying with my brother Jon in Birmingham, Alabama, thousands of miles from our home town of Fullerton, California. Back on the West Coast when we were growing up, the few weeks preceding the 4th were filled with anticipation. It began as the various firework stands around our neighborhood would be assembled each year.

Black Cat, Freedom and Red Devil were the three rival firework brands that prayed on the fantasies of young kids like me growing up in the 60s. Families were loyal to their brands (for some reason, I remember ours being Freedom fireworks). One year, the church we (barely) attended sponsored a Freedom stand, and I was able to help fill bags with fiery delights. I also had the privilege of reaching up to the rear shelf and bringing down the mammoth-sized boxes filled with various stuff that could cost up to $30. That was a boat-load of money back then to put out on an event that was over in 30 minutes. I remember our neighbors down the street. They always bought the super-duper family box; all eyes were peeled when they started lighting their stash. In fact, social prominence on our street was governed by how many fireworks you lit on the 4th, and if you had a pool in your back yard.

On the morning after the 4th, remnants of the previous night's fun littered the streets. There were several dark circles on sidewalks in front of our homes. Also, there was evidence of "snakes" that, when lit, would slither out of the flame like a black cheese puff. We always had a plethora of sparklers, and the used metal sticks were strewn everywhere. Burnt-out cones and gnarled pieces of charred cardboard were left on driveways to be picked-up when daylight made the damage easier to see.

Where I live today, we are allowed to set-off serious fireworks--stuff that the Fullerton police would arrest us for back in the 60s! In Tennessee, as in most of the South, bottle rockets, firecrackers and light-up-the sky kind of displays are legal and sold everywhere. These flying, exploding wonders trump the old days in California, I'll have to admit.

It was always sad to see the firework stands come down. It was kind of like the day after Christmas for me. I did have one thing to look forward to in the week ahead, and that was my birthday on July 10th. This year it'll be 51 for me, but I'm still a kid at heart when it comes to the fantastic 4th of July!

Retracing the Tracks of Life

Today Brenda was looking through some photos that she wanted to put on her "magic" frame--you know, the ones that play photos on a video screen. She found some pictures from when we all went to California for a week, just before Josh was to start his first year of school. There we were at Disneyland: Brenda and I in our 90s hair, and the kids hugging Mickey. The memories come flooding back. And as I celebrate the passing time and the blessings of family and friends, I wonder if there were things that I could have done, as a dad and husband, to make our lives even better.

This week I spent a lot of time in my studio recording. I am the guitar player, the engineer and the editor since producers look to me to bring the whole kit and caboodle. Even after I record the individual guitar parts, I go back through each track to make sure they are clean and that no outside noises or unwanted material remains. I do cross-fades, zero-out dead space and combine each piece into a whole. I do the same process for every guitar track before I send out the finished product to the various people I work with. This process takes a lot of time. I have to make several decisions on the spot, make fixes if necessary, and move on to the next several seconds of audio. In order to keep going, I need to trust the little decisions I make along the way. And by the time I get to the end of each track, I make one last scan over the whole thing before committing. I record songs that require ten guitar parts sometimes. So to not waste time, I must learn to trust my instincts as I go along.

This process of retracing my guitar tracks applies to life. We could spend an inordinate amount of time second guessing our decisions. But if we make good decisions along the way--little insignificant ones, at least in the broad scheme--they all add up to a great life with no regrets. Yes, I wish for a lot of things: maybe that I could have gone in other directions with my career. But I know that the small choices I made were the right ones. So I have to trust myself and God Who guides me.

I am so proud of the way my family has grown. Brenda is my chief blessing in life. As we all travel down to Birmingham for the 4th to see my brother Jon and his family, I am so grateful that Josh and Betsy, along with their spouses, will join us. Man, how time flies!

All Amped Up with Shaw

I just returned from my buddy Kevin Shaw's shop. Every time I go over there I get in a heap of trouble. Kevin's amplifiers are so beautiful and sound so great; I usually return home infatuated and start dreaming of a new Shaw acquisition!!

Kevin and I have been talking about a Marshall JCM 800 type of an amp configuration. I've been looking to acquire one which majors on classic 70s Marshall crunch tones. I am a Foreigner/ Mick Jones fan, and also appreciate the guitarist in Loverboy and his killer tone ("Turn Me Loose," "The Kid Is Hot Tonight"). So, Kevin took the challenge and created this purple beast for me. Mr. Shaw is a genius! My son Josh and I went to the shop this morning, plugged in a humbucker guitar and cranked it up. WOW--it was all there: the beautiful harmonics and overtones were inspiring!

I am currently doing several recording projects in my studio: some for me and some for other folks. This new monster adds the ingredients to the soup that, so far, I've only gotten from using pedals. I am back to just a guitar, a cable and an amp for my Marshall tones...just like the old days when I first started playing in a band!


Here's Kevin's own description from his Facebook page of this yet-to-be-named beast:

"I just finished a custom amp for Jamie Harvill: a JCM800 preamp (with a few tweaks) feeding a 6V6 power section. He wanted some high gain crunch without killing the neighbors. This one measures out a little less than 20 watts. I added a 6 position tone contour switch in the preamp, which is amazingly effective at high gain, and a second stage "fat" switch. Sometimes I feel like Burger King where you can "have it your way!" Now it is off to shop to finish the case."

Thanks Kevin! Check out his website. I am going to do some audio samples of this amp in the next few weeks. They will be posted on Kevin's website at SHAW AUDIO.

A Trip Through the Heartland

Its been thirty years since I lived in the Midwest. Last week, Brenda and I made a loop from Nashville to Columbus, Ohio, then to Cleveland, Ft. Wayne, Indiana, and back home.

Taking the trip helped confirm the affection I've always had for the heartland, ever since I first arrived in Columbus in January, 1980. The hard-working, clean-living people of the this part of the country left an indelible imprint on the heart of a bright-eyed 19 year old from southern California. When I first came to Ohio (our production company was based in Columbus) to play music, I was not only enchanted by the beautiful farmland that rolled on forever, but I was also impressed by the generosity of the people. I was astonished at how these tough folks could endure the unpredictable winters they were given, year after year. I learned several things during my three-year stay in Ohio. One of the most valuable was: don't let challenges define you, but allow difficulties to refine you and make you a better person. I witnessed a tough, resilient people make a beautiful life out of struggles with the earth, the weather and the gamble inherent in farming.

Even when we would travel through the Canadian heartland back in the day--to play fairs and exhibitions in the remotest of places one could imagine--the people were so gracious. I remember that Canadians, especially, would be very reserved during our performances but would stun us afterward when they gushed and expressed how much they loved our music. They adored country music, especially the old stuff.

Our trip last week was unforgettable. I am pleased that I could share the experience with my bride--I had yet to meet her until 1983 when I relocated to Mobile, Alabama to play with the group, Truth. Brenda took some great photos and is as impressed with the beautiful Midwest as I am. Thanks to our dear friends Wes and Heidi Turner, and my old boss, Gary Henley, for showing us such generous hospitality while in Columbus. We'll be back!

Show Biz Days in Columbus, Ohio

I had a great evening with an old road buddy last night here in Columbus, OH who has opened up his photo archive to let me do some scanning. I unearthed these photos displayed here. I can't believe its been over 30 years since these photos were snapped. Notice the Eagles-esque picture of our First National Band. It was during the Urban Cowboy craze. The other photo is the show group called Life. We were going overseas to Germany and Iceland in 1980 with the USO and this was the promo shot. My friend Wes gave me one of these funky flowered costumes that one of us guys wore to take home with me. Lots of fun and memory lane walking here in Columbus, Ohio!

Gone Too Soon

I used to wince growing up as my family watched TV and my dad would point to the old black and white TV and say, "That movie is full of dead people!" He was raised in the 1930s and 40s, and all of his movie heroes were getting up in age by the 1960s. He'd also look at old photos like Lincoln's 2nd inauguration and say something similar. The eerie thing about Lincoln's photo is that every single person walking and breathing in that picture is truly dead--no exaggeration!

Yesterday I saw that Clarence Clemons, the iconic sax player for Bruce Springsteen, succumbed to a massive stroke over the weekend. He was 69. The beginning of June carried some sad news to many, myself included, that singer/songwriter Andrew Gold, 59, died of a heart attack in his sleep. Gold was a musical hero of mine and is best known for writing "Lonely Boy." I followed him years before as he became the wunderkind multi-instrumentalist and vocalist for Linda Ronstadt's band in the 70s. Just a few years ago another personal hero, Dan Fogelberg, passed away too soon at 56 from complications relating to prostate cancer--an illness he had been battling for some time. I am understanding my father more and more lately as I witness the demise of folks from my generation.

It makes one think about mortality and the promises we heard in school like "we can be all we want to be." The sad thing is most of the folks who pass away relatively young probably weren't ready to go; they had more dreams to fulfill and more songs and records to record. One thing I know for sure, we are never promised tomorrow. Some of us, like my dad, are blessed to live long lives (85 this year!). My grandmother lived to be almost 100. Sadly, my mother passed away at the young age of 67. No one knows the day or the time.

Life is finite...at least here on earth. I believe in eternal life after death, though--that God exists and a real heaven awaits those who are redeemed in Christ. I know that seems old-fashioned to some reading this, but I really have a deep, anchored trust that when it is my time, I will pass into eternity with my Lord. A Christian isn't guaranteed a longer life than a non-Christian. But the Bible does teach that if we live good, faith-filled lives--trusting in God for our future and being content in Him--we can make provision for our lives and enjoy the resultant health benefits of a positive attitude (Proverbs 17:22, 1 Timothy 6:6).

Even with all that being said, I am saddened when I read of the deaths of life-long heroes. Most of my musical mentors are 10 years older than me; that puts them in their sixties these days. But even as death is real and possibly eminent, I want to live my life to the fullest, even to the end.

Thanks for the music Clarence, Andrew and Dan. Your lives have certainly enriched mine!

In Hot Water

There's nothing worse than getting into a shower, ready for a rejuvenating 20-minute sauna experience, only to find there is just enough hot water available to fill a tea cup. The next sucky thing is that the pressure coming off of the shower spigot is about as powerful as a vegetable irrigation system at the local grocery store. I like to travel, not because I adore crowded planes and shuttle buses, but for the fact that most decent hotel rooms have hot water and pretty serious water pressure. In other words, to get a good shower, I have to leave home! That's just plain wrong.

Because of this serious problem in our home, growing increasingly worse over the past two years, it was finally time to get my beloved shower back in working order. A few years ago I had a plumber come out and survey the problem. Of course when mechanics, electricians and plumbers see me coming, their eyes usually light up with matching jackpot symbols like a Vegas slot machine (they put two and two together: musician equals idiot with zero fix-it skills). They immediately start to plan their Redneck Riviera vacation at Gulf Shores as they add-up the potential financial damage they'll be creating for me.

The plumber who came over on this occasion let me off fairly easy and suggested a simple water heater flush. "Okay?" was my ignorant reply (he could have said "Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!" from Mary Poppins and I would have said, "Cool..sounds great!!"). He proceeded to hook a garden hose up to the water heater sitting in the back corner of my garage. After the better part of an hour, he bled that cylinder dry (what he did while the water water was draining is still a mystery). When it was through, the guy pointed to the runoff in my driveway: I couldn't believe the amount of sand that made its home in my water heater over the previous eight years. Its bowels were exposed, transforming the concrete drive into what looked like the Sahara Desert!

He snapped a bubble on a huge chuck of pink gum then proceeded to suggest I get a new water heater. After tallying-up the charges, he plopped a piece of paper into my palm that read: $750. "And we'll even haul the old one away," he said offhandedly while simultaneously checking text messages on his cell. Snapping his flip-phone shut, he zoomed-in for my idiot-musician response. I surprised him with, "Maybe next time..." He shook his head with disapproval, rolled up the garden hose and threw it in the truck. It landed right next to the brand-new water heater that he hoped to offload on me.

So, two years later, its time to replace that dinosaur in my garage. My buddy Kevin is coming over this morning to help me. No, let me rephrase that...Kevin is coming over and I'm gonna help him...errr...get in his way. Hopefully, after the problem has been corrected, tomorrow morning I can lean up against the corner of my shower to let that scalding hot water cascade down my back and wash another "honey-do" off the list. Next item: the upstairs air conditioner drain isn't working. I guess I better see if my buddy's available...