The Genesis, The Remembrance, and The Education

I was sitting in my smoke infested man cavern a little while ago playing guitar.
Something hit me like a ton of bricks.... I LOVE my guitar. I love it as much as you could love just about anything. So often being a working musician, you forget to take moments to remember why you do it.
Some musicians will tell you that the reason they picked up an instrument is to get girls. I've heard hundreds of musicians claim that to be the genesis of their musicianship. I can honestly say that thought never crossed my mind. I've been ridiculed on occasion and called naive but it doesn't change the fact that the real and honest reason I became a musician was because I genuinely love my instrument. I love it so much. I can't even explain it.
It was never about women. Perhaps it was about acceptance to some degree.
I'm the youngest of all my siblings. Of which all are half brothers and sisters. I have a different father than my brothers and sisters. In some ways, I've felt like an outsider because of that my entire life.
I've chased acceptance my whole existence. Acceptance by family, friends, whoever. I craved it to be honest. I remember the first time I made someone smile with a guitar. It was my brother-in-law Ron. My sister Kelly's husband. He'd taught me a simple blues phrase that I picked up on pretty quick. The next week, I had something else to go with it. I started to see the branches of the trees, so to speak.
I showed him and he smiled, if I remember correctly. I was hooked.

I also loved the comradery of being in a band. I didn't feel it with my first band as much because we didn't really have any gigs. My second "band" was more of an extended awkward audition of sorts... Went nowhere.
My first taste of musician comradery came when I was recruited to play guitar for Thee Rhythm Kings by Mario Lobato, who's now passed on unfortunately. Mario decided he wanted to put a band together. He'd been as I had been playing with East LA Top 40 bands and decided he wanted to start a blues band. He asked me to play guitar, Chris White to play bass, Mo Beeks to play keyboards, and Eric Tice to play drums. I was around 17 or 18 and they were in their 40's or 50's. I was excited but more terrified.
I remember during our first gig at Steve's BBQ in Whittier, I would stare at Chris and Mo all night in fear for fucking up. At the time, for me, these two men were Gods. They'd toured, recorded, lived, and played tight as a drum longer than I'd been alive. Clearly, they were my barometer for fucking up. If they weren't happy with my playing, I'd try to read them and alter what I was doing to suit the band. I wanted this gig.
The comradery came. I loved it. It got so I knew what they were going to do before they did, and vice versa. Then it became stale, so we switched it up. Fun, stale, fun stale, fun stale.
It was a blast to learn with these cats and they taught me right early on, heavy hand, iron fist and all. I woodshedded, I was making a little money, and I was gaining brotherhood amongst the players.
I felt accepted. I never really was as it turns out but at that time in my youth, I felt accepted.

The other reason for starting playing may be insecurity. I've been insecure my entire life. I still am.
Insecure about my weight, my thoughts, my teeth, my humor, my face, my playing, my tone, my life.
Just plain old insecure.
Perhaps the insecurity ties into the acceptance. I don't know. That's a conundrum for smarter heads, I suppose.

The acceptance with Chris, Mo, anyone else, ect. Came and went on a regular basis. Looking back, I never realized that. It's only now that I realize most of the acceptance was superficial. I was on the bandstand with them, I was the one paying them, I was in whatever band with them, whatever it was, in the end, it wasn't acceptance. It was more tolerance.
And that's ok. There's plenty of cats I've worked for that I mostly just tolerated to get the money. I get it. I'm not hurt by it anymore and I love those two guys. I wish em' the best.
Playing with Thee Rhythm Kings was some of the best days of my life.

I remember my first road trip with them. We got asked to play a club in Pueblo, CO called the Tantric Club or something like that. We flew to Colorado and I hadn't been on a plane in forever. Mario and Chris were making fun of me but in the end, Mario held my hand on takeoff and I knew we were gonna have an awesome weekend.
The gig was a two nighter and it was sold out both nights if I remember correctly. I drank A LOT that weekend but not on the gig.
I remember the opening band asked us if we smoked weed. Being an avid fan of herbal pleasantries at the time, I joyously said yes along with another band member who I roomed with who will go nameless. The opening band gave us a copious amount of weed and we had a blast.
The night before we left, after the gig, we were in the hotel room with the round dining table covered in weed like we were doing some elaborate marijuana jigsaw puzzle. I remember asking "what are we gonna do with all this weed? We have to be on a plane home in four hours".
We both looked at one another and said in unison "LET'S SMOKE IT!"
So we did. We smoked an amazing amount of weed, then stumbled through the airport confused. Thank God Mario knew where we were going and led the way. We would've been fucked.

All I remember about that morning is what I wore to the Denver airport.
I wore a straw cowboy hat that I to this day have no idea where it came from, cutoff frayed jean shorts, aviator sunglasses, and flip flops..... I was 21 years old.
The promoter was pissed. He told us to dress inconspicuous at the airport.... I forgot.
I got home and the post tour depression immediately set in. I sat in my Baldwin Park apartment sad and stoned. So I smoked more weed and went to the gig. We had a show that night.

Again, not sure of the point of this blog. Just writing what comes to mind.
Mario Lobato would've been 60 years old today, his birthday.

L to R: Mario Lobato, Mo Beeks (top) Rudi Petronio (bottom), Me, Chris White

Happy Birthday, Mario. We had head butts and arguments and great laughs alike. I miss you. I loved you. I'll see you someday again. Thank you for giving me my first gig, firing me from my first gig, showing me how to do my job and how not to do my job and thank you for initially showing me what my job really was. There isn't much more to say.
Let's close that chapter. All the tears, and the joy, all the poverty, all the sadness, all the education, all the heaven sent notes, and all the backbreakers. I loved it all.

Letting go but not forgetting,
-Gino