Tomorrow, I turn 47 years old.

Most people who meet me would be shocked to hear that I’m that old, because I’m a fairly childish adult. I’m a goofball. I look pretty young (no gray hair except a little white in my beard, face is not super wrinkly). I think being funny, making people laugh, and laughing are more important than just about anything. But this past year I’ve been thinking a lot about how advancing in age changes my perspective on things. Like songwriting.

I started writing songs in my teens when I lived in Bakersfield. Mostly just words to 12-bar-blues progressions. One song I wrote I accidentally stole the progression to “House Of The Rising Sun”. As I got more comfortable with the idea of singing, I wrote more songs. So by the time I was in my mid-20s, I was writing a LOT. I think I had gotten to about 100-150 songs at that point. Pretty much none of them good, but I wrote. My first child was born when I was 27. Almost 20 years ago. In the first few years she was around, I maintained my clip, and got close to 200 songs. But by the time my oldest son was born, my songwriting had slowed to a trickle. Maybe 3-5 songs a year. By the time this blog started, it was 2-3 songs a year. Then a divorce and some isolation, and the pace slowed further, maybe 1-2 per year. And now, I’ve written basically one song in the past four years (a tribute to a favorite artist of mine who died from complications from COVID-19). I don’t really even feel comfortable calling myself a songwriter anymore. I think I’ve ranted about that before on here earlier this year.

Finally getting to the point where I accept the change in who I am based on the change in what I do has been a long time coming. Up until a few years ago, deep inside I still saw myself as someone who might write that hit song or have that band that would “make it”. But I always knew that I cared more about my kids than success in music. It was also a convenient dodge from actually being brave and sacrificing comfort to follow a dream.

But maybe the truth always was that I’m nothing more than a talented hobbyist at all this. I consider music to be an integral part of my identity. I can’t imagine living without music. But I will say, during this 47th year of my life that is now coming to a close (because that’s how birthdays work), for the first time I’ve really thought about the fact that maybe on some level I feel kind of too old for this shit. Or really, adjusting how my identity relates to this shit. But maybe it’s just more that my field of fucks is completely barren. I only want to do what I want to do. I want to play with my boys in Chandler and The Bings. I want to start doing some cool livestream concerts with my new switcher and camera gear (I GOT THE SWITCHER THINGY FOR MY BIRTHDAY THANKS TO MY INCREDIBLE WIFE…YAAAAY!!) And that’s where I am.

If I had nothing but free time, I might tackle some really deep musical study/development – maybe finally learn how to sight-read music. But for now, my musical pursuits remain humble. We’re going to keep recording cool studio covers with the band until we can start playing some shows again…and hopefully after we start having shows again, too.

So to mark the beginning of my 48th year on this rock, I’m just going to look forward to trying to record some of my music, some of my cover music, and just enjoying playing. Thank you for reading.

TMS