YEAH, YEAH, YEAH

          The first time I ever played guitar was on February 10, 1964 - the day after being mesmerized by the Beatles' dynamic first performance on the Ed Sullivan Show. Wow! I'd never seen anything like it. They were so good, sounded so exciting and were having so much fun, that I wanted some of that action, too.

            Fortunately, my father had a cheap guitar on which he would bang out old jazz standards, neither of which had ever really interested me before. But overnight, that battered old instrument became the most magical, potent object in the house, radiating an aura of endless possibilities.

LEARNING IT

            Learning to play guitar wasn't easy; I didn't have very good hand-eye coordination, plus I was a left-hander trying to play on a right-hander's instrument, so it was a slow, tedious process at best.

            Luckily, I'd always enjoyed singing, frequently singing solos in the church choir and school music programs from the time I was six years old. Growing up, I often felt like an oddball, being the overweight, buck-toothed bookworm with big ears, few friends and a foreign accent. But all of that awkwardness seemed to melt away whenever I sang, whether standing in front of a full auditorium or sitting alone in my bedroom.

LOVING IT

            So, once I'd finally managed the rudiments of strumming the instrument, there was something truly magical about the combination of singing and playing guitar together. The symbiotic relationship between fingers, guitar strings and vocal chords made it possible for a wellspring of primal urges to emerge from the recesses of my heart, where they'd been waiting in hiding for years. My newfound ability to entrain words with melody, rhythm, meaning and movement all in one fell swoop was not just fun, it was a fundamental shift in how I experienced the world and my place in it.

             Somehow those early songs by the Beatles, the Animals, the Rolling Stones and the many bands that followed allowed me to find words and music to express all the amorphous feelings that had been bottled up inside for years. It wasn't long before I joined forces with several junior high school classmates to form our first band, The Hodads. Now the magic was multiplied many times over by the driving power of bass, drums and harmonies - plus the sheer joy of having buddies to make music with. I was off and running, heading into a lifetime of sharing that musical joy with as many others as I could.

REMEMBERING IT

            Recently, Paul McLaughlin, the lead guitarist in the band, (a truly talented musician, who has since gone on to perform with many of the top names on the Texas music scene), unearthed and posted a photo of the Hodads to his Facebook page, which I've taken the liberty of reposting here. (That's me, the 2nd blue-shirted dude from the left, cradling my first microphone that I'd bought at Radio Shack just a few weeks earlier). It's definitely hokey and a little embarrassing, yet seeing that image brings back a flood of memories around the sheer joy of playing music, just for the heck of it.

LIVING IT
            Fortunately, I've been able to make a living by sharing words and music from that magical space that the Beatles first showed us. Fifty years, eight albums and thousands of professional performances later, I continue to feel extremely blessed by the many gifts that music has brought to my life. I'm grateful each time a new song arrives in my heart, each time I get to sing with others, each time I feel stretched by the Muse. Whether it is on Sunday Morning in the Circle, or in concert, at a corporate event, arts festival or a nursing home - whenever I have an opportunity to perform from that inner space that music provides, it affirms that I'm living my purpose, doing what I was born to do.

            Of course, it hasn't been all fun and games; there have been plenty of challenges along the way, some of which continue to this day. There have been plenty of doubts and creative droughts; times when it was hard to make connections, or discern which direction to go next; times when someone's opinion carried more weight that I'd like to admit; times when it felt like I really should quit... 

            But, as far as I can tell, those aren't separate from the process of making music and living my life purposefully; they are an integral part of it. Plus, any discomforts or discouragements I've encountered are far outweighed by the sheer joy of doing what I love to do. To paraphrase the Fab Four, "I love it -- yeah, yeah, yeah."

           

With gratitude and blessings,

          Rudi 

          PS:  Speaking of the sheer love of making music, our Underground Sounds concert in the Cave Without a Name last month was one of my all-time favorite gigs EVER! It wasn't just a show; it was an amazing mind-body-spirit experience. So much so that I immediately booked a return performance on July 26, to build on that energy. I really hope you can join us for what promises to be a wonderful time. (details at www.celebrationcircle.org)