Back in the day I grew up in a small town on the west coast called El Granada. I lived a block from my elementary school and high fived my buddies in Cub Scouts. Humble is key because you can't forget your roots. I shoveled snow in the midwest during junior high where I found out coffee tastes like dirt and beer tastes like tree bark. Then I came to the bay area where the ocean taught me how to breathe. When I'm old I'll probably write novels from my island tree house.
Then I grew up all over again at punk shows where I found out espresso makes your brain work and whiskey creates smiles. I'm the life of every party I grace with my presence and when I go to sleep I pretend to be in an escape pod drifting through space. Plus, tattoos, a sealed police record, and aces I wear on my sleeve.