Introduction

     I grew up in Southern New Jersey – South Jersey to the natives - in the shadow of Philadelphia and a stone’s throw to the Jersey shore. I still live here with my family, and I think it’s still a great place to grow up. I want to take you back as I look through those misty, rose colored glasses on my life. One Christmas, when I was in high school, maybe around 1979 or 1980, I woke up to find a guitar under the tree. Well, truth be told, I saw it sitting in my parent’s closet a few weeks before Christmas, and when the music school in Merchantville called in mid-December to schedule the lessons, the surprise was totally blown, but it was still one of the best presents I ever received.

     Some kids wanted to learn how to play guitar so they could become guitar heroes. A lot of the kids I grew up with were into Kiss, and then Van Halen. Back in the stretch from 1975 – 1980, I think you be hard pressed to find a bigger influence on yearning guitarists than these two bands. It was a bit different for me, though. I wanted to write songs and tell stories with words and music. I think I wanted to do that ever since I heard Rosalita blasting out of the 8-Track player in my brother’s Volkswagen. But that’s getting a bit ahead of the story. I doubt that my relationship with music is unique, but for me it has always been a driving force for inspiration, for hopes and dreams. Those dreams were shaped by friends and family by locales and times. So I want to drift back in time and remember those days with an ear towards the music that was playing around me: The Soundtrack of My Life.