To some degree, I will always be that kid that grew up on Martin Luther King Ave. in Verona and loved the Red Hot Chili Peppers.
To some degree, I will always be that depressed 16 year old skateboard kid that was being picked on, but who felt an odd sense of empowerment one day while driving down Lawndale and singing along to Fight Like A Brave. That became my anthem.
To a degree, I will always be that misunderstood misfit 17 year old kid that ran from Tupelo High to Album Alley as soon as the bell rang on Tuesday, September 24, 1991 to get a copy of Blood Sugar Sex Magik. This was the release date. Johnny opened the cardboard box that had come in and handed me a copy. I took it home and ate, slept, and breathed it. I didn’t stop until l had learned every song on bass. I had been playing before that. But after that, I knew how to play.
I’ll always remember being that lost 18 year old kid that was listening to Me and My Friends when he slid on an icy Carr Vista Rd. right in to the path of a train. When I came to, I saw the RHCP sticker that had been on the back windshield lying next to me on the back seat with fragments of shattered glass stuck to it. Much of the rest of that glass was in my face and head. Me and that sticker left that car.
And I’ll always be that 35 year old guy that got to meet Chad Smith, who kindly talked with my wife and held baby Silas, but to whom I could only get out two words: “Thank You.”