I was born in Albuquerque, New Mexico, and lived there until 1983, when I moved to Mt. Juliet, Tennessee, a few miles east of Nashville.  Mt. Juliet was a small town with hills, trees, and abundant vegetation. There are two lakes nearby, named Percy Priest and Old Hickory.  It was actually on a lake when I first heard rock guitar.  I was on vacation in Lake George, Michigan. It was a beautiful, sunny, windless day, and my dad and I were in a small ski boat, just floating on the wakes. From above on the cliffs overlooking the lake came the sound of someone playing Black Sabbath’s “Into the Void” on electric guitar. It was impressive, with the natural reverb and delays bouncing off of the bluffs. This event set the trajectory for me as a musician for the rest of my life.

I was unprepared for Tennessee’s climate of high humidity and frequent rain, neither of which I had experienced in such excess. So much rain often made it difficult for me to go outdoors, and became one of the reasons why I asked my parents to buy me a guitar and lessons. I needed a summer activity to occupy my time in a constructive manner. My parents talked it over, decided that it would be a positive experience, and pulled out $50.00 to buy me a “Kay” ¾ size acoustic (which I still own) from Shiloh Music. My first guitar teacher’s name was Rusty. He was a nice man who also taught banjo lessons. While taking my first lesson, I pulled out my Walkman and had Rusty listen to Iron Maiden’s “Phantom of the Opera.”  He listened very closely and picked out the intro by ear in under a minute. He showed me how to play the intro and wrote the music on paper for me to take home. The next lesson, I asked to learn the solo to “Beat It” by Michael Jackson, because Eddie Van Halen played it. He looked at me and said, “I can tell already that you’re a lick player.”  I had no idea what Rusty meant by that comment, and I never will. He then recommended that I learn “Take It Easy” by the Eagles instead.  I felt like was I was spending time and money learning music that didn’t excite me. I was 13 and interested in lead rock guitar. One day, while looking at the multitude of guitars hanging from the ceiling in the store, I noticed a tall man with a big, dark brown mullet, wearing a rock t-shirt with Japanese writing on it. I asked George, the shop owner, “Who is that?” He said, “That’s Fred, our rock guitar teacher.” I said, “Sign me up!” It didn’t take much to get off to a running start with my new teacher Fred. We immediately started learning the right-hand finger taps to Van Halen’s “Eruption.” We also started working on rock guitar techniques, exercises, theories, and other songs. My parents were pleased with my rapid progress and bought me my first electric guitar, a $350.00 cream-colored Japanese Ibanez Roadstar 2, with white binding on the body.

Reflecting on my experiences with two very different teachers, I realize now why finding the right guitar instructor for yourself, or your child, is one of the most important decisions that you can make as a student or parent. Fred gave me the tips and skills that only someone with experience in performance, studio recording, and teaching could consistently deliver. Rusty was a good instructor, but he was a mismatch for me because he wasn’t teaching me what I wanted to learn. This validates my claim of how crucial it is to find the right guitar teacher. Fred was a great fit for me, and he motivated me to advance as a student; all these years later, I aim to establish that rapport with my students. Fred was the guy who looked at you, and even though he didn’t say it, you knew he was thinking it: “You wanna rock?”