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Chapter 1

All in a Day’s Work

I’d been playing the guitar since I was six While I’d been with the D-Bags for a few years now, I’d been in one band or another since high school My childhood hadn’t been the easiest, and race Frouitar, I’d been hooked It was the feel of the wood beneath s, the reverberation deep inside the instru to really understand the iuitar had spoken to ful in that si to coful inside ofto come out

My parents had given the instruift, but even back then I’d known it was more for them than for me It was a convenient way to keep me occupied and out of their hair so they didn’t have to be around me as much My conception had been an unwanted accident, and my parents had never warmed up to ed their lives, and they’d never let uitar keptit, so it was a decent present, regardless of the ulterior motives behind it

They hadn’t bothered getting htan only child with no close friends and parents who didn’t want to have anything to do with me had afforded me a healthy amount of free time My dad had liked to have the radio on whenever he was hoenerally listen to talk radio, NPR and such, but when he put onto s, and once I’dI could It had irritated the hell out of Dad He’d turn the radio up and order e with your god-awful racket, then do it alone so only you have to suffer,” he’d say

I’d go upstairs, but I’d leave my door cracked open so I could still hear theup, but if I stru hatever was playing For the next several years, “Stairway to Heaven” was ain, I think that’s everybody’s favorite song when they’re learning

For the first tiaveI connected with, souitar needed to be played I needed to play it It was atime, it was the only real relationship I had

Grabbing my beloved instrument, I closed the door to htly when I was describing my place Truly, it was o and left it towith four walls and a roof, but I had no elass, nails, glue, and cement

While I’d been living in Los Angeles, my parents had sold my childhood home and moved to a much smaller house I didn’t know about it until they died When I ca ofThey’d tried to scrub out my existence, but they’d still leftSo why they’d done that Maybe they’d had a change of heart about me? Or maybe not

I turned away froeous black-and-chrootten her dirt cheap in LA, and I’d spent a decent chunk ofof beauty, my baby, and no one drove her but me

Setting the guitar in the trunk, I headed tomy way onto the freeway, my eyes, as always, drifted to the unique cityscape of the Seattle skyline as it blossomed into view

I’ve had a dichotomous relationship with the E it at times Bad memories lurked around every corner—the loneliness ofremarks, the constant put-downs, the daily reminders of how much of an undesirable burden I was The emotional poison my parents had injected intohere now, and the band was a large reason for ed attitude toward the city

Evan Wilder and I had foruitar on my back, a few dollars in my pocket, and dreaht aftera ride wherever I could get one, I soon found on coast I’d stopped in for a drink and found Evan trying to convince the bartender that he was old enough to have a beer He wasn’t Neither was I, but I ed to wink my way into a pitcher I’d shared it with him, and we’d bonded over our mutual love of beer and music

After spending a little time with Evan’s faels, to pick up some more band members We’d found Matt and Griffin Hancock in the unlikeliest of places A strip club Well, maybe that wasn’t so unlikely Evan and I were horny, fresh-out-of-high-school teenagers after all

The four of us had worked well together, even fro bars and clubs in LA We’d probably still be there, except I’d dropped everything and rushed back to Seattle after uys had followed, and we’d been playing here ever since