I begged for a guitar as a little kid, got one when I was maybe 7 years old, started teaching myself to play it, went on to school band, church choir, was on french horn then trumpet for HS. At the end of HS I was band president, 1st chair trumpet in a good band that got our 1 ratings for the first time in years. Worked in music stores, played in garage bands that rehearsed a lot and never played. Hearing problems, mostly deaf, couple bad marriages but an awesome son. So, technology gave me better perception of sound, I started up again, by that time the boy was growing up. He played guitar a bit, didn't care for it signed himself up for band as a drummer, then taught himself bass, he and I started jamming together in the house when he was in middle school. Was briefly in a cover band before I realized I did not like being in a cover band, found myself a home here, kid was still progressing, we were still jamming. ST got me interested in my own growth again, worked at playing figured if yall can write songs, maybe I can write songs. Got help and support, kid got older, in HS band and jazz band playing his butt off on drums. Today on FB an old friend and some other old friends were posting pics from our HS marching band days and we were talking a bit. Pretty much none of them play any more, but here I am still playing, still playing with the kid, still writing music. It's so very strange that, for me, the music never goes away. Even with the odd stuff and ****ty circumstances, it does not go away and now that I am back in it, I just want to continue and do more. So there's that.