HANDS WITHOUT SHADOWS
I think it was Stephen Tyler who said something along the lines of, “I might be married, but I ain’t dead.
” In this case, I wasn’t married – although I was old enough to be – but the quote still fits.
It all began innocently enough at the music store where I teach guitar.
At a minimum twenty-five bucks a a pop per half-hour, I spent four or five nights a week,
usually between the hours of three in the afternoon and eight or nine at night teaching young kids how to play – just to supplement my income from playing three nights a week with one of
the biggest local cover bands in the area.
It was the way I wanted to make money without sacrificing maximum effort for minimum wage (and maximum rage) under some soul-destroying day job where the only career that got advanced was
the one of the egotistical shitheel who did little more than talk on the phone while taking home a paycheck three times the size of yours.
Like most guitar teachers,
you had your devoted students and those who thought they could come in with no knowledge of the instrument whatsoever and be the next Kirk Hammett after a mere few months.
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