Here's my confession- for the past six or seven years, I've claimed to write a blog for you. I don't even know what a blog is, to tell you the truth. I almost started up a podcast a year or two ago and I know even less about that.
Turns out that I've been doing this for me all along. All of my working life, and I use the term lightly, has been about my search for whatever's out there.
Don't jump to any conclusion that I would be so smug as to claim that I have figured anything out. It's just that I don't ask many questions anymore.
For more than fifty years I've been making records. I suppose I've been making them for me, too. I just didn't know it.
Sometimes I wonder if maybe I've used up all my fun. I'm holding on to hope that it's like love. You know- endless supply. The more you use, the more you got.
And I hope in the New Year that your blog gets a truckload of good wishes, profound comments and offers of gold records and RIAA awards weekly. You're nice enough to deserve it all.
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