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I used to go to the Philly Folk Fest every year as a volunteer. My gig was to show up a week before the fest, set up in the "heavy (RV) camping" part of the grounds, wait for other pre-fest volunteers to show up with their camping vehicle and make sure they parked in nice, orderly rows with open fire lanes. I worked for three or four days, from Saturday or Sunday through Wednesday morning, when the "regular" heavy camping volunteers arrived with the rest of the volunteers. And after dark, it becomes a giant party. On Thursday, all the paying campers enter the grounds, and it''s an even bigger party. And since the Fest concerts didn't start until Friday, all the music was in the campgrounds. I used to wander around the campgrounds with my guitar, looking for musicians to jam with and campfires without them to play for. It was all pretty wild, but I don't recall much of it. (Nudge, nudge, wink, wink...) I only go every few years now, but it taught me how to play for people.

This is not exactly an embarrassing moment (I'm really good at forgetting them), but it was memorable. The first time I ever played out was at an open mic night at a vegan cafe while visiting my sister in Washington, DC. They had an upright piano facing the wall on this tiny stage, and I went up to play two original songs. My back was to the room, and about halfway through, I was suddenly aware that I couldn't see anyone. I got very nervous, and my right leg started bouncing up and down like crazy. I looked down at it - still playing - and thought to myself, "This is nuts. None of these people know me, and probably never will, and since it's my song, they have no idea what it's supposed to sound like, so even if I screw it up, I'm the only one who will know..." I willed myself (and my leg!) to relax, and finished the song and m y set without further incident. I'm sure no one was the wiser for it - even my sister said she didn't notice when I told her about it afterwards.

My parents bought me my first guitar when I was 15, an inexpensive classical guitar without a case. At the time, I was working at Boulevard Lanes, the bowling alley a couple of blocks from my house, on the weekends. I'd go in Friday and Saturday at 5 and work as a pin chaser until midnight, when I'd move up to the front of the house and work the counter (and really, everything at that point). Most of the time, I'd bring in the Longines Symphonette stereo system that I got for free with my membership to the record-of-the-month club that I joined and set it up in front of the PA mic and we'd rock and bowl all night. (I don't know if I was the first, but it was 1975, so I'm pretty sure that I was one of the first doing it.) Sometimes, I'd bring my guitar instead and play if it was slow or if I was writing songs. One of those night, after clearing a pin jam, I vaulted the counter, only to land right on the neck, snapping it off just above the body. That was the end of my first guitar.