2010-03-21, 22:16
#37
Citat:
Är du bekant vid filuren Chuck Lorre som står bakom, för att nämna två, 2 ½ Men och The Big Bang Theory? Han har en lustig historia om Pat Metheny.
Ursprungligen postat av M20
Mina 2 cents:
Allan Holdsworth
Steve Morse
Pat Metheny
Al Dimeola
John Petrucci
Allan Holdsworth
Steve Morse
Pat Metheny
Al Dimeola
John Petrucci
Citat:
Ursprungligen postat av Chuck Lorre
Tonight's story about Sheldon's ego being crushed following his encounter with a young prodify has its roots in my own life. Around 1974 I was playing guitar for a living in Miami Beach. I was twenty-two years old and though I was really something. In the parlance of musicians, I fel I had some "serious chops".
Nights I played clubs, hotels, and private parties. For a few months I worked in a loungy band on a cruise ship. I even landed a day gig playing acoustic solo stuff at a coffee house in South Beach. That was where a professor from the University of Miami saw me play, dug what I was doing, nad invited me to audit his jazz guitar class at the university. I happily acepted, thinking I might be able to teach the kids a thing or two.
I still remember the first class, me sitting in the back proudy holding my beat-up '64 Fender Strat, while the college students all cradled expensive Gibsons. Of course this only made me feel more smug. I was a working musician. These were rich kids in a rich school with instruments that daddy bought 'em. But then something happened that would change my life forever.
A painfully shy, sixteen year old boy walked into the room. He could barely speak nor make eyecontact with anyone, seemed dwarfed by his big jazz guitar, and was ludicriously introduced as a visiting professor to the university. His name was Pat Metheny. I'll never forget how I felt when he began to play. It was an imploding feeling, like the kind you get when your ego is being demolished like an old Vegas casino. Thankfully the feeling accompanied by a soft, reassuring voice in my head that whispered, "Find work in television, nobody's a prodify there." Thirteen years later I listened to that voice (I may have been deluded, but I was no quitter). Oh, and Pat, if you happen to read this... thank you.
Nights I played clubs, hotels, and private parties. For a few months I worked in a loungy band on a cruise ship. I even landed a day gig playing acoustic solo stuff at a coffee house in South Beach. That was where a professor from the University of Miami saw me play, dug what I was doing, nad invited me to audit his jazz guitar class at the university. I happily acepted, thinking I might be able to teach the kids a thing or two.
I still remember the first class, me sitting in the back proudy holding my beat-up '64 Fender Strat, while the college students all cradled expensive Gibsons. Of course this only made me feel more smug. I was a working musician. These were rich kids in a rich school with instruments that daddy bought 'em. But then something happened that would change my life forever.
A painfully shy, sixteen year old boy walked into the room. He could barely speak nor make eyecontact with anyone, seemed dwarfed by his big jazz guitar, and was ludicriously introduced as a visiting professor to the university. His name was Pat Metheny. I'll never forget how I felt when he began to play. It was an imploding feeling, like the kind you get when your ego is being demolished like an old Vegas casino. Thankfully the feeling accompanied by a soft, reassuring voice in my head that whispered, "Find work in television, nobody's a prodify there." Thirteen years later I listened to that voice (I may have been deluded, but I was no quitter). Oh, and Pat, if you happen to read this... thank you.
