In the summer of '94, my paternal grandparents took me on a vacation. It was a memorable trip for many reasons, but one particular memory has always loomed large in mind.
I think we were in Wisconsin, but it really could have been any roadside town with an old motel. The motel was attached to a dimly lit lounge that seemed to be haunted by the ghosts of crumpled packs of cigarettes and well liquor. My grandfather and I were sitting at a table near the door, and over in the corner a band was finishing setting up on small stage. They looked - and smelled - a little weird (which really shouldn't have been surprising, I suppose) as they were decked out in the wonderful early 90's fashion quagmire that tried to fit flannel with piercings, leather jackets with tie-dye, and greasy, shaggy hair that was a middle finger to the AquaNet Eighties.
They played their first set and I watched quietly from my chair, trying to take in everything around me. I had just started playing guitar, borrowing my mum's acoustic and some of her piano books, trying to read chord charts and make my fingers contort in ways that seemed like wizardry. This unnamed band had cracked the grimoire, and I was desperate to be where they were, to do what they could do. Once they announced they were taking a break, I excused myself from the table and cautiously approached the guitarist and drummer, who stood on stage still adjusting cables, lighting up a fresh cigarette, and laughing over some beers. To this day I have no memory of what I actually said to them, but their guitar player grinned and handed me his guitar (a Telecaster, as I found out not long after) and told me to try it. I played him a couple of the chords I knew and he was encouraging; he showed me how to play an F Major chord without using a barre, something I hadn't yet cracked. After that he gave me a sequence of chords to string together, and it sounded familiar, but I couldn't quite place it. He told me to keep doing that, and he was going to be right back, but whatever I did, DON'T STOP PLAYING.
So he and the drummer got up, went outside to talk to the other band members and when they came back, they asked me if I'd play a song with them, a song with those chords I had just been shown. I was nervous and said I shouldn't, but they told me I could do it, and I should just try... if I didn't have fun, I could stop. The guitarist grabbed an acoustic guitar from off a stand and started playing, telling me to follow him. I tried, and it was clumsy, it was confusing. My fingers wanted to do things their own way and the new grips weren't coming easily. But I tried to keep up and once the rest of the band joined in, I found my footing. I didn't even realize what the song was until the singer sang, "Oh my my, oh hell yes" and suddenly it all clicked. I was playing a Tom Petty song.
That was the first time I ever got up and played guitar in front of people, and it's a moment I think about a lot, especially today as one of the most influential and celebrated musicians of the 20th Century - Mr. Tom Petty - heads "Into the Great Wide Open."
Thanks for the tunes, Tom.
