Your Blues is Yours Alone

American Standard Fender Stratocaster Neck

“But he could really play the Blues… On that beat-up old guitar”

Is there a starting point for the day’s Blues? Is there a problem? Is there a reason for red knuckles? That and many other questions come to mind… When you stop finding comfort in the people, you begin finding comfort in writing. “Is something bothering you?”…a question that 70% ask without understanding how much it means or how much impact it might have if they asked it sincerely. Is something bothering me? Yes, and maybe quite a few things if I spent time thinking on it. But I try to ignore it because there really is no point in contemplating the things you cannot share. Girls will think you less of a man, boys will think you less of a man. Wise will think you spoiled-rotten (my problems are not real in comparison to most of people around me) and ignorant will not give a scrap.

My Blues… I look to channel it into something meaningful and so I do two things. One of them I know I can do and another I know I want to learn to do. The two are writing and guitar. I write because I either lost myself in my insecurities or lost those around me through whom I could dispose of my Blues. Some left me, others left the country…I hope not because of me. I write because I hope that the Blues is a good man feeling bad. I want to be a good man and it does often take effort to remain such. I write because I hope there are those who feel similar, who feel that they got much more to give and they want to make a difference. Not for fame or fortune, I won’t notice a difference in overall satisfaction between $10 and a $1000 in my pocket. But instead for the sake of appreciation. Appreciation for you as my reader, for you as the listener of Buddy Guy and Howlin’ Wolf and SRV and Seasick Steve and BFG and GCJr etc. You as an individual who struggles from day to day at being a good man, being a worthy man for your family or your loved ones. This is my shout-out for you, an old man with a beat-up old guitar who could really play the Blues. You, my reader, are that old man. You, through your daily effort to make things better for others make a difference in others and I value you.

The second thing is of course the reason why KKGuitar exists and it is the guitar in it. I play because I love it. I frequently wonder if things were differently and I was given to a music school at age 13 instead of 23, would I love it as much now and would I be inspired to reach out to such great people as Ric Hall, Marty Sammon and many others. Would I dare? Would I care or want to? I’ve mentioned already that Blues Guitar is a family. All the same people in one tight circle of friends. I miss those people without ever meeting them. I miss them when I don’t hear them play or sing the Blues. They are what reminds me that my problems and my reasons for breakdown or midnight Blues is not really a problem but rather a minor mishap. I play to tell… In search of Blues Guitar I play to tell how much you all mean to me and how much you all give to me. Thank you, it might not look as anything but that daily effort to make the lives of your loved ones is a rip-tide Butterfly Effect on me. Make your memories. Don’t wait for them. “If you feel like you wanna scream, and that’s your way of letting of steam, scream on!”

Buddy Guy – Do Your Thing

This is uncut, unplugged and unprepared. For all those who had given me an ounce of their faith, I salute you. For those who is going to… I appreciate you. For those who will view this… You are born being you. Take a moment and realize that you are you, John or Lindsay, Abdulah or Sergiy. Isn’t it a wonderful feeling realizing that your Blues is yours alone because you are given this great life that is finite. You know that it is finite and it makes you immortal and omnipotent. You won’t escape the finale so bust your ass making it a grand finale with a powerful story to tell. Drop all fears and reservations. They will pull you down when you will start climbing up. Remember that it is you whose story is being told here and it is you whose memory is being saved here for eternity to come.

Make Some Noise