What in the...

So I got a new pair of hiking boots last week. I wore them for the very first time last night. So, naturally, what happens? That's right. I stepped in a ninja-hidden, secret stash pile of dog crap.

Yeah.

You know, I don't quite understand what the deal is. I buy a new pair of shoes and within the first week of wearing them, there is a 2 in 3 chance of me stepping in a pile of dog crap.

What is it about me and new shoes that creates such a magnetic force for puppy poo? I'm not exaggerating here, people, it really happens. I could walk around a yard for months and months on end where a dog is regularly being allowed to take a dump, and nothing happens... nothing, that is, until I wear a new pair of shoes.

And why do they call it taking a dump/sh1t/crap anyway? It's not like you're removing it from the premises - you're LEAVING it there. I'm not going down that road - it's been far too well travelled.

On the plus side, I had my first paying solo gig this weekend past. It was for a small country club out in the, umm, country. It was a very small turnout for the social hour. Only 11 of the expected 30-40 people actually turned up. The new owner is hoping this will improve, of course. Now, he said he was very happy with my performance and paid me in full - I also managed to score 26 bucks in unasked for tips from the 11 people there, so I must have done SOMETHING right. Sweet.

Something struck me as very odd, though. Here is this successful businessman - he owns the country club and manages another, drives a Mercedes Kompressor (which left me and my Del Sol in the dust as I followed him for a couple of rounds after the show to discuss future gigs) - and he's telling me how talented and awesome I am. I've had a number of people tell me this at shows. It makes me, well, a bit uncomfortable. I mean, sure I love a good compliment as much as the next person, but I think I have a pretty good feel on how good or bad I play. I'm decent, I can play a little lead. I have good rhythm and I definitely give out a lot of energy. I sing pretty well and I think I can work a crowd better than the average bear. But awesome? Ummm, no. Trey Anastasio is awesome. Stevie Ray Vaughan was awesome. Me? I do okay. Maybe even an okay-plus sometimes, when I feel that "I am on". I'd say on a scale of 1-10, with horrible as 1, and Prince as a 9.5, Trey as a 9.8, Al DiMeola as a 9.9, etc... I think I'd give myself... a 6-7 score at best, on a good day, as a guitarist. Maybe an 7.5-8.5 as a singer. MAYBE. And that's only for the material I select, which I pick geared for me. As a funny guy, lead guy, front man, entertainer? I can get a little cocky and stretch into the high 8's or maybe a low 9... Yeah, I'm cocky about it. Shoot me now.

As if you care to know all this, right?

I think I would scare myself if I ever actually thought to believe all the hype. The point is, all this adulation simply made me uncomfortable - more than just a tiny bit creeped out. I'm decent and I think I put on a fun show... but awesome? Save that for the Jimi Hendix/Jimmy Page/Stevie Vai's of the world, cause I ain't there yet... and maybe never will be. I just don't want to become an a$$hole by getting that star mentality... EVER. Even I were to somehow get lucky (cause that's what it would take, honestly) and get discovered.

You know, I don't understand how can someone actually live with themselves getting that kind of a head on their shoulders. I really don't.

Luckily, my friend Lisa gave me a sweet reality check. I asked her about this whole thing and she told me something very believable and sensible - It's all a matter of perspective. Most of these people can't play any instrument and they also mostly can't sing. And I do both. I also give off a lot of energy when I play and I do it all moderately well... but to them, it is awesomely impressive. Hmm. Makes sense. Think of an ant looking up at a curb... I knew this answer, but forgot it in my creeped out state. Sue me. Of course, this ant at the curb top also knows here are plenty of taller buildings all around me.

Regardless, from an ant "all the way at the top of the curb" to all those impressed on the street: thank you for the kind words. But in reality, it's just a short climb up from you to me... a lot of people could get here with just a little practice.