Some people like trying to play the "rich guy card" on me. I grew up poor. I went to 13 schools in 12 years. My dad couldn't hold down a job. I didn't come from a safe or comfortable place. My poor ninth grade educated father made $350.00 a month as a truck driver for most of his life. There were times when we didn't know where our next meal was coming from. My mother took a job as a bank teller for minimum wage. My sister and I were latchkey kids. From an early age I had a dream. I wanted to stand on stage and make people feel the emotions that I felt when I heard Merle Haggard sing. In so many ways that dream was a fairy tale. I could have just as easily walked to the moon. I was encouraged to give it up, fall in line, get a job with security benefits, insurance and a good solid 401K, like decent red blooded, salt of the Earth American's are supposed to do. I was criticized by friends and family members for dreaming big. We call it "outside o
f the box", these days. I read the expert's probability statistics.... "The odds of making it in the music business were greater than winning a Senate race"...maybe higher ?
I worked in more than one nightmare bar and beer joint for less than $35.00 a night. I took odd jobs. I slept on a friends floor for over a year, at one point. Many times I worked for free. I didn't take my eye off of the ball. That dream was my only way out.
I taught myself to write songs. I took enormous risks. I pushed myself relentlessly.... far beyond what I thought I was capable of doing.
Then, one day, after years of pursuing that pie in the sky, pipe dream, I woke up and heard myself singing on the radio.
I went to the mailbox a few months later and there was a check for more money than I had ever seen. It was enough for a down payment on a small house. My wife continued to cut coupons out of the newspaper to help buy food while I travelled for over 200 days a year for many years after that.
I won't bore you with much more other than to say...... indeed, I've made money. I feel the bone chilling emotion of a good, common man, blue collar anthem from my head to my toes because I am and will always be one.
.......I didn't sell my soul for the dollar in my bank account. I'm a died in the wool grass roots American Dreamer. The American dream is in peril. America is being sold down the river. We gotta get the rats off the boat and fast !
Some people like trying to play the "rich guy card" on me. I grew up poor. I went to 13 schools in 12 years. My dad couldn't hold down a job. I didn't come from a safe or comfortable place. My poor ninth grade educated father made $350.00 a month as a truck driver for most of his life. There were times when we didn't know where our next meal was coming from. My mother took a job as a bank teller for minimum wage. My sister and I were latchkey kids. From an early age I had a dream. I wanted to stand on stage and make people feel the emotions that I felt when I heard Merle Haggard sing. In so many ways that dream was a fairy tale. I could have just as easily walked to the moon. I was encouraged to give it up, fall in line, get a job with security benefits, insurance and a good solid 401K, like decent red blooded, salt of the Earth American's are supposed to do. I was criticized by friends and family members for dreaming big. We call it "outside o
f the box", these days. I read the expert's probability statistics.... "The odds of making it in the music business were greater than winning a Senate race"...maybe higher ?
I worked in more than one nightmare bar and beer joint for less than $35.00 a night. I took odd jobs. I slept on a friends floor for over a year, at one point. Many times I worked for free. I didn't take my eye off of the ball. That dream was my only way out.
I taught myself to write songs. I took enormous risks. I pushed myself relentlessly.... far beyond what I thought I was capable of doing.
Then, one day, after years of pursuing that pie in the sky, pipe dream, I woke up and heard myself singing on the radio.
I went to the mailbox a few months later and there was a check for more money than I had ever seen. It was enough for a down payment on a small house. My wife continued to cut coupons out of the newspaper to help buy food while I travelled for over 200 days a year for many years after that.
I won't bore you with much more other than to say...... indeed, I've made money. I feel the bone chilling emotion of a good, common man, blue collar anthem from my head to my toes because I am and will always be one.
.......I didn't sell my soul for the dollar in my bank account. I'm a died in the wool grass roots American Dreamer. The American dream is in peril. America is being sold down the river. We gotta get the rats off the boat and fast !
