Letter to Michael Stock - About My Music and How I Got Here

I was contacted by Michael Stock of W' a local radio station here in Florida. He asked what I was doing here I think it went a little overboard but it turns feels good to get this stuff down

First off I'd like to thank you for getting back to me. I really appreciate what you're doing for aspiring musicians and am grateful that you are taking the time to consider me.

I play mostly original music. Most of my friends consider my music it's own genre, one of them dubbed it hobo punk and many agreed. Another said I should call it hobo soul music. I've also been called folk punk and some have even compared it to the grateful dead when I have a backing band. The great thing about my music is its always a little different mostly dependent on my mood and people I play with. One gig even came out like reggae.

You ask what I'm doing in south Florida and below you will find the full story although the short answer is I just go where the wind blows me following the breadcrumbs the universe drops for me and playing my music anywhere I can.

I have been playing since I was a junior in high school so I guess that works out to about 11-12 years. I was always a singer before that and was in chorus ever since the 3rd grade. I joined the boys select chorus in high school and was the lead singer for a band i was in called Funky Fresh and also the Italic Squirrels after our original singer quit. I didnt always have someone to sing along with and singing without backing music isn't nearly as much fun so I picked up the guitar. I love playing for people and even when I was just starting out I would perform for people at parties and whatnot. Right after high school I went with some friends to Hawaii and would sometimes set up on the strip in waikiki and play for kicks. I used to hang out with this homeless man named Off Beat and he was always happy and smiling although he had nothing but his guitar and the change people threw him. I like to think I'm doing him proud now. Although i now remember he used to say he didn't want this life for me but that was also ten years ago before I was ready.

As far as how I got here. Well, let me start about a year ago. I had just been released from jail after a two month stint for not shoveling the snow. No that is not a typo, I was too sick to shovel the snow, albeit I was withdrawing from heroin but I was doing the right thing and detoxing myself, I even had money and could have gotten more. Anyway, he had a hissyfit, called the cops and had me arrested. This after coming in the night before with a baseball bat swinging it around like a mad man and even hitting me twice. Needless to say after I was released, I was not going home. Luckily I made a new friend Gary who let me live with him in his car.

Gary is bi and I was a bit curious, my girlfriend was also nowhere to be found, she's a heroin addict and a prostitute so she's always bouncing around, needless to say the idea of getting my dick sucked after months away sounded alright besides I figured I owed the guy.

After a couple months of this I realized this situation just didn't feel right. I kept up this charade because i didnt want to be alone on the streets. I was also hoping to make his ex jealous enough to take him back but that never planned out. Eventually I reached the tipping point and was looking for any excuse to escape. I kept exploding and trying to run away but everytime he would make me feel guilty and I would stay.

The time finally came when I just couldn't take it anymore. I didn't care if I was alone on the streets, despite it being October with winter closing in. I just had to end this torment.

I was fortunate enough to have made some good friends during my time with Gary though. They helped me out with places to stay. I worked with my good pal Nate doing flea markets. We would travel around to Connecticuit, upstate New York, New Jersey and Pennsylvania on weekends selling rekkids and other junk, then at nights hit up open mics wherever we were at. In exchange he would help me out with food and a place to stay most nights despite the looming threat of his dad over our shoulders. I realized at this time that I didn't want a boyfriend I just wanted a best friend.

On one of our trips we went to see the Phil Lech concerts at the Capitol Theater in Port Chester. I decided there that I'm more a fan of the fans of the Dead than I am of the band. I'm talking the true Dead Heads, the adventurous ones who hitchhike to the shows, camp out in the woods, and really have the spirit of the USA running through their veins. I wanted to be one of them.

Dead and Company was doing a tour and Nate and I had decided to catch the Ohio and North Carolina shows but as the date approached Nate had to bail out to take care of rekkid orders. At the last minute I decided this wasn't going to stop me. So I went online and found a bus ticket to Columbus, Ohio and was shocked that it was only $70. I ordered the ticket packed my backpack and off I went with nothing but my bong, my notebooks, and a jacket with a broken zipper. No sleeping bag, no extra clothes, tho I did aquire those later.

A few of my friends were performing at a club in Manhattan and i had told them i would be there. Luckily the bus stop was nearby. I found the club but they weren't there so I went for a walk to get some food and find the bus stop. Btw gotta love dollar pizza joints. When I returned to the club my friends still weren't there, but when I called them they said that they would be there shortly. Time was closing in on my bus departure and I really wanted to see them perform or at least say goodbye. Well I didn't get to see them perform, but I could tell they were grateful that I showed up. My boy Frank bought me a beer and we toasted to my safe travel.

I pretty much slept through the 14hr bus ride and when I got to Columbus I explored the city a bit. I ran into a hitchhiker named Pat and we hit it off. Neither of us had tickets for the show so we tried to find some people with extra tickets, maybe even a miracle. Despite my arm burning from holding my finger in the air, I was relentless and unless absolately necessary I kept that bad boy raised, even if no one was around. Even after all that neither Pat nor I could score any tickets. We decided then to team up and hitchhike to the other shows.

We took the bus as far as it would take us out of the city. Thanks to a miscalculation on my part though we ended up quite far from the interstate. Thanks to that error in judgement we missed our window of opportunity to catch a ride with someone heading to the next show. Why we weren't just asking around the night before I couldn't fathom but I trusted that Pat knew what was best.

Since we weren't going to make it to the other shows Pat wanted to see his sick family members in Williamsport PA. One person has Crohns which my mom also has. Another has diabetes which my uncle Alan has. And the last one has cancer which my friend Keoni Hawaii has. I haven't heard from Keoni in a while and I pray he is alright.

We passed through Ohio. I remember Zanesville was very creepy. They had these statues that were so lifelike that I thought they were actually people painted black and if I were to touch one of them they would jump out and say boo.

Then we stopped by Wheeling WV where I got a new bong because I had left it by an on ramp on route 70 about 120 miles east of Columbus. Then we checked out the casino. They gave us free points to play the slots but it was my first time at a casino, I wanted to bet real money so i played some roulette. I seriously think that casino was rigged. 8 blacks in a row after no more than 4 in a row the whole time I was there. Reds were coming up like crazy but still no more than 7 in a row. I guess when they saw the strategy I was using they flipped the script. So I ended up leaving the casino about forty dollars poorer.

Getting out of Wheeling into PA is impossible without a car. The only bridge is an interstate which you cannot walk on. A police officer stopped and actually offered us a ride across but as we were talking to her another man stopped to give us a lift.

Our movement through PA was very slow especially since it was two of us trying to catch a ride. We made it to Somerset when Pat wanted to give up. I tried goading him into going. I remember telling him that if he didn't go then I'd just have to go without him and give them his wishes and tell them what a coward he is. That's when he called me a devil and ran off.

I decided to give Pat some space but when he did not return I decided to go looking for him. I happen across this little bookshop called Pages and Lights run by this really nice woman Debbie. She let me hang out and read a bit. In addition to books they had all kinds of odds and ends. As it happened they had three guitars. Two of them were warped and sounded horrible, but the third seemed great although it only had three strings. I had wanted to pickup a guitar while I was in Columbus and had contacted a few people about purchasing one through Craigslist, but I didn't get a response in time. I had set aside 30 dollars for a guitar and although this one looked worth a lot more I decided to ask about it. When asked about the price Debbie asked me how much I thought it was worth and I told her I can spend 30 but I think it's worth much more than that. To my surprise she agreed to that price without so much as a blink. She then explained to me that it had belonged to another guitarist who had recently died and he wanted it to go to a good home. She said I looked like a good home and I was so happy and so grateful to her. This really cheered me up after the incident with Pat. I felt like I was in a video game and had just received a magical quest item, my +2 great axe if you will.

I had some guitar strings in my backpack luckily so i went right to stringing it up. One of the missing strings was a G string but I didnt have one so I used a B string in its place. It was a little slack, but good enough for rock and roll so they say. I got right to playing, Debbie let me play right inside the store even as customers were coming and going, it was beautiful.

After leaving the store I played the guitar as I was walking down the street. Next thing I know a car pulled up and handed me forty dollars. So i headed over to McDonald's where I saw Pat. He still didn't want anything to do with me so I sat at the other side of the dining area. I wrote him an apology and tucked his half of the forty into it since I still considered him my partner on this venture, but when I gave it to him he didn't want it and threw it. Well I guess it was his money to do with as he pleased. I just left it there and left because I didn't want to cause a scene.

I decided to hang around town for the rest of the day in hopes Pat would come to his senses. I grabbed some food at the Sheetz and must have fallen asleep because i was awoken by some cops. I explained to them my situation and they were very understanding, they even gave me a free voucher for a night at a motel and gave me a ride there. I had a good night's sleep and took a nice hot shower.

The next day I just started walking, no more waiting by the interstate for me. I would walk for a couple hours with my thumb out and then someone would see me and give me a ride to the next town. I kept this up and a few days later in Altoona I saw Pat at the Greyhound station talking to the woman behind the glass. I walked passed him and fiddled with my things at one of the benches hoping he would approach me but when I turned around he was gone. I kept hitching east and finally decided to catch a train home when I got to Lewistown PA., but not before making some friends. I even made plans to return there for the Star Wars premiere. A part of me wishes that I had continued on to Williamsport like I had told Pat, but I was ready for a break.

Since this story is already longer than I anticipated I'm going to fast forward through the next months.

I took a bus out to Denver shortly after that where I lost most of my money. On the return trip I stopped by Lewistown PA for the Star Wars premiere as promised, but my friend who I was supposed to see it with was nowhere to be found. The next day I was back home to play a show at Brew Haus in Lindenhurst which went amazingly well. I hung around for a couple of weeks doing the flea market thing with Nate again, but I was starting to feel like a burden on my friends so I went back out on the road.

I took the trains down to Trenton NJ then just started walking west and catching rides when I could. I was trying to make it out to Cali but I only made it as far as Wernersville PA. When I got there somebody gave me $100 for a room and as I was walking towards the hotel a man from the Calvary church stopped and he offered to pay the difference on a week stay. Funny thing is I had slept the night before in their playgroung, a giant wooden ark. It was like being in a cabin. While there I worked with them playing guitar while they sold cookies to raise money for the church. They gave me some pocket cash for helping them but the longer I was there, the more I heard the road calling.

Gary and I were back on speaking terms and he wanted to sell a tv show he was working on at the NATPE convention in Miami. I reluctantly agreed to go with him I figured at least the weather would be nicer.

We didn't leave in time to make the convention but we went on the trip anyway. Big mistake, we got nto a fight and he abandoned me in Flagler FL. The least he could have done was drop me somewhere near a bus stop but oh well. I kinda forced his hand on that one.

After a few days of travel I hooked up with my uncle Alan in Palm Harbor and stayed there about two months. I only planned on staying a few weeks, but then i found out my cousin was coming with his kids and easter was the next week so I planned on stretching it till then. Somehow I ended up staying a month beyond that trying to score some herb to take on the trip with me. During that time my uncle hooked me up with a bike and a trailer for the bike so I guess it's a good thing I hung around.

When I did run out of herb I decided to just hit the road since it seemed like I wasn't going to find any around there. I left at 5am after getting home from an open mic doing some dishes and packing up. I didn't want anybody talking me out of this.

From there I biked down to Sarasota to my Uncle Jack's place, took a little over two days. Spent the night with him and caught a ride over to Boynton Beach. I lost my pet lizard Nimmy there and spent a week returning to the spot singing her a song I wrote for her, praying that she would return. I even spent a good portion of the money I had brought in on buying her a new terrarium and a little house and water dish, but she was gone. I found another lizard I thought might have been her at first. This lizard was also missing its tail and although a lot larger i wondered if perhaps with a proper environment maybe thats how fast lizards grow. I later found out that it was the wrong kind of lizard but I was ready to believe anything rather than leave my best friend behind. Besides this lizard was so comfortable with me and just sat on my hand and arm just like Nimmy. This one even liked sitting on my head, which Nimmy often tried to do.

I decided to leave Boynton Beach and started heading south to Del Ray for the open jam at Kevro's. On the way i got a flat tire on my trailer but i pushed through and made it. Kevro's was amazing and everyone there was so nice. The people i played with were outstanding musicians and really took my songs to the next level. Everyone was also loving this new lizard that I had dubbed Nincompoop. Nincompoop even joined me up on stage for my performance which was bad ass, although at one point Nincompoop freaked out and ended up on the floor. I had to be careful not to step on my little buddy.

The next day I was at the park playing music and I set Nincompoop down on the grass. I saw my buddy shake ts leg a bit I'm like oh you're dancing. Shortly after I see Nincompoop run off into the bushes, lost. When I found Nincompoop the little guy kept running in circles. I think it's leg was injured and it got better while with me. I like to think I saved Nincompoop's life because I found that little one just sitting in the middle of the parking lot, didn't even move when my bike came within inches of the precious little thing's head. Maybe Nincompoop was hoping to die then but after staying with me and getting better my little friend could return to the wild with a better chance for survival.

After Nincompoop left I was pretty heartbroken and just hopped on my bike heading south despite a flat tire on my trailer. At some point I took off the treads and just road on the rim, it was much easier at least.

I made it down to Fort Lauderdale and came across a park on the river walk with a little amphitheater so I decided to hop up on that stage and perform a little concert for the passersby. After that I met a man named David Stranahan a crazy old coot but genuine to the core. He needed some clothes and we made some trades. I'm actually wearing a shirt and hat he gave me right now. I also got a jacket which was perfect because I lost all my sweatshirts and although I haven't needed it since it's always good to be prepared. I spent the entire day just bullshitting with him and playing my music. I really enjoyed his company, it was really nice having someone to hang out with after being on the road for so long. Sure I meet plenty of nice people but few will take the time to actually hang out and spend a day with you, ya know. Most are very wary about that thing. I have to admit I was a bit wary of David at first but I'm glad I took the risk because I found a genuine person with the true spirit of the USA running through his blood.

That night I found my way to a place called Two &, a bar/bicycle shop, for their open mic. Could there have been a place more tailored to my current adventure. It was an awesome time met some cool people and they had the parts for my bike for only ten bucks. Too bad I spent what I had on beer, but I figured I'd come up with the money the next day. At the end of the night tho, the bartender was kinda rude to me over some cracker crumbs she said I left on the bar. I'm 99 percent sure I swiped up all the crumbs into my hand and ate them, not wanting to waste a crumb. I decided then not to give that place anymore of my money.

The next day I rode my bike down towards Dania Beach a for the open mic at the Zen tea house. On the way I stopped at a place called Freddies for some food. I played my guitar outside for a while. Then I ended up playing pool for the next couple hours. When I got outside my bike had a flat but when I put in air it seemed to hold, it lasted me through the night at least.

The mic went great although I felt pretty bad that I was nodding off in the middle of the other acts. I guess all those nights of 2-3hrs of sleep were finally catching up to me. Afterwards a couple people were complementing my guitar, it's a hondo and they were saying it's almost like a Martin. One of them added to my guitar strap. He gave me a clip that's a lot stronger than what I currently have tied to it.

That night as I was pulling my trailer into my campsite, the wheel without the treads crapped out and bent in half. Since then I've been in Dania trying to get it repaired. I've found that many businesses here are not very friendly to guitar players/homeless. There's the Mobil station, which I wrote a song about, Prontos Pizza which I wrote a verse about to add to the mobil mart song, the cops said I can't play on the street corners even though I'm not asking for money, what happened to freedom of speech, there was also the library, the wayside inn, the casino, the Russian church, subway. I've been calling this town Castle Insania. Ive got enough material from this town alone to write an entire album.

People often ask me if I'm a Dead Head and while I like the music, I feel that to be a true Dead Head there is that one transformative event that intertwines their music into your soul and I haven't had that yet. I've met a few people who have shared their experience with me. One of those such people was my good buddy Jimmy James Kircher. He was a seasoned hitchhiker and always wanted me to hit the road with him, but it was never a "good time" for that. I guess I wasn't ready, but are you ever really ready for that. You kinda become ready after you're thrown into it ya know.

After I was released from jail I found out that Jimmy James had passed away. It was quite a blow to me. I decided then that I would have that adventure we never shared together as I tripped out on some morning glory seeds. That's when I felt his spirit connect with me and i could tell he was proud of my decision. Then a few days later I met Gary and got sidetracked for those months. I'm glad that I finally got out on the road to have this adventure we never got to have. I like to think that I do this in Jimmy James's memory but more important than that I do this for myself. I'm a much happier person on the road. Everyday I'm out here I feel my friend smiling down on me and see his spirit in the faces smiling back. I feel like I've found a higher purpose putting smiles on the faces of those around me with my music and bringing the injustices of the world that I come across to light. I like to think I'm doing my part to make the world a better place.