I gave Ethan his first guitar when he was just six-months-old. It was a bright red wooden thing; a bit more than a toy, but less than a real acoustic guitar. A bit overzealous? Perhaps. And that says nothing of the bongos, the piano, or the maracas I gave him —...
Sometimes songs come easily. I woke up from an afternoon nap around two o’clock (late night at Alphabet Lounge) with a dog eared copy of Ben Fong Torres’ Gram Parson biography, “Hickory Wind,” at my side, and heard a melody with the line...
