Bio

"I think back through my life to everybody that I owe, I mean the ones that I can remember in person. Of course I know that I owe these folks and they owe some other people and these are in debt to others and all of us owe everybody, but the amount that we owe is all that we have."

--Woody Guthrie "People I Owe," as read by Peter Glazer on "Til We Outnumber 'Em"

In 2001 I applied for the Truman Scholarship. The last short essay on the application was a bit of a "wild card" to let the reader get a more rounded picture of me. "What additional personal information do you wish to share with the Truman Scholarship Foundation?" This was my essay:

Junior year of high school: In the dark and dank basement I sit, crouched over an old Gibson steel string guitar, strumming chords. The guitar belonged to my mother’s brother Bob, who died before I was born. I play folk songs from my mother’s old copies of “Reprints from Sing Out!” and “The Bob Dylan Song Book.” I also experiment with writing my own music—chord progressions and lyrical sketches.

The next year I fall madly in love with a girl and write her an unfinished song. I have the melody, the chords and the chorus, but am unable to come up with lyrics. I do not play it for her. I write out the melody on score paper, make a crude tape recording, and enter it in the PTA Reflections Contest of student art. To my surprise I win first place in the music category. I complete my first song, lyrics and all, called “Alone.”

In college I take formal lessons from John Doan, a master guitarist. I mostly study classical guitar, and spend much more time practicing. I continue writing songs, most of them mediocre. I play at my first Open Mic in the campus Bistro: “Song of the Deportees” (Woody Guthrie), “Where Have all the Flowers Gone?” (Pete Seeger) and my one decent song from the year, “Log in Your Eye.” I’m nervous and I mess up a lot.

During my second year at Willamette I finally finish the love song I began two years before, “A Snowball’s Chance in Hell.” I begin playing regularly at Open Mic. I make people laugh. I continue writing songs; I continue taking lessons. I record a 28-minute demo CD with eight original songs. I am in love with another girl and write her a song. This time I play it for her. Fighting a bad cold, I perform a set at Wulapaluza, Willamette's music festival, with many loyal fans in attendance.

I take my Martin Backpacker with me as I study abroad in Ecuador fall semester of my junior year. I give concerts aboard our ship in the Galapagos Islands. I begin to learn Latin American music. I write ten new songs, including one in Spanish. I have no idea where all this will take me, only that playing and writing songs is something I must do. I find in the guitar an excellent medium to explore the medley of conflicted emotions running through me. Without it I am not complete.

I'll write more later...