I have sung all my life, born to a father who played clarinet and shook the walls of our house when he played his favorite Big Band ‘78s.
I was twelve when I got my first guitar; a Sears’ Silvertone steel string. I played it as I sang the first song I ever wrote before the activity class of my Jr. High in Scituate, Massachusetts. I still remember the song – it was about watching all the people and wondering, “who are you, why are you, and where do you go?”
I am still a people watcher. I’m a listener, too. As a rather shy
adolescent, music was the place I lived my emotions, and I listened for hours on the headphones, especially to Joni Mitchell, Procol Harem, The Moody Blues, Billie Holliday, and Muddy Waters.
In 1972, I married a man who loved music the way I did, and together we formed several bands. We incarnated at least 3 genres of original music from the seeds of rhythm and blues, country, hard rock, and punk.
We had a band called Legacy in the early ‘80s, playing the worst dives you can imagine. It was a rather outrageous time in my life, with lots of drinking and drugging. Our lead guitarist was sober and in AA, and he confronted me about my drinking. I went to a few meetings, and I soon stopped as well, grateful for the grace of that life-changing encounter.