Playing guitar is not a beauty contest.
I got my first guitar in October of 1968. I'm self-taught.
You get to the point in life where you realize you have to roll up your sleeves, deal with the consequences of what happens, and carry your own weight.
Don't believe everything you hear on the street.
There was a lot of music in our home. Mom played piano in church and gave piano lessons.
My first gig was in Philadelphia and I played the drums for my older brothers. That same night, I also played drums for Martha and the Vandellas. Ah, the fond memories of being 14.