My dad was turning 40.  This was a real bad time for him, one that lasted about seven years.  I realize now looking back on it that, coincidence or not, he started to snap out of it about the time our band started to get big.

      My dad was insistent that there be absolutely no hoopla at all surrounding his birthday.  Then, one day, out of the blue, he drops on my mom that he wants to rent a hall and have a band.  He goes from no acknowledgement, no presents, no nothing, to a big blowout with a band . . .

      I gotta run now.  We have a show to do.  Every time I play, I pray he can hear the music. 

      It’s the only way I know how to say thanks.  I’m a guitar player.