A Star Ain't Born

I'm not sure if there's a moral to this story, but if nothing else, it serves as a lesson in humility.

I am a lead guitar player/instrumentalist. Starting in November of 1969, I've had to LEARN to play the guitar....and I mean REALLY PLAY it........because I can't sing. If you want to be a part of the music world, and have no voice quality, you'd better learn to play an instrument............so I did.

Most people who play the guitar are "strummers." They learn a few chords so they can accompany themselves while they sing. If you're dedicated, you can learn what you need to know in a few months.

"Picking" is a whole other world......note for note...your fingers become your voice, and whether you're backing up a singer, or playing an instrumental solo, it's a real specialty. Practice time and dedication is daunting. Often, while your friends are out relaxing, having a good time somewhere, you're toiling for hours trying to get a progression "just right" for the next gig.

If you've noticed, there aren't many superstar "pickers" out there anymore. Everyone knows the singers on the CD's, but do you know who your favorite singer's lead guitar player is? Probably not.

If you play guitar.....and that's all you do, NOBODY's gonna pay money to sit through a three-hour concert, just listening to guitar music.........unless it's somebody like Les Paul or the late Chet Atkins. That's how GOOD you'd have to be! Even the multi-talented Roy Clark had a lot of variety in his shows, and he sang as well.

But to aspire for Nashville as a guitar picker and nothing more? You'd better be the best there is!

Chet Atkins WAS. Mike Bradbury ISN'T.

In the spring of 1979, I got orders for Lakenheath, England. You were allowed to ship ONE car overseas for a 3-year accompanied tour, so I flew my ex-wife and kids back east to New Jersey to stay with relatives while I drove the old Mustang cross-country to the port at McGuire AFB.

Now........at this point, I'd been playing for nearly ten years, and thought I was pretty hot stuff. After all, while stationed in Italy, I was the lead guitar player in an all-G.I. country-western band at the NCO club of San Vito! For good measure, I used to play dinner shows about twice a month at scrubby's, out by the Air base here in Mountain Home.

So....as most of my car trip would be on Interstate 40......and 40 just HAPPENS to go through Nashville.......I would just stop off at RCA and say "HERE I AM!!"......"You can hold my contract until I get back from England and my current enlistment is up, and I'll make RCA FAMOUS, and make you guys a lot of money........and ME too!

I was a "legend in my own mind" as they say.

Well, about a week later, I was just east of Nashville, having checked into a motel in Murfreesboro. It was around noon Friday. I was too "road-tired" to "audition", but..... it could wait till Saturday morning, and if RCA wasn't open on Saturdays, I could hang around until Monday (I had allowed the extra time in this trip, if necessary).

I drove out to Opryland to get a ticket for the Grand Ole Opry on Saturday night, then drove back to my motel room in Murfreesboro and sacked out for the night.

Saturday morning.......I'd gotten directions to the RCA studios, but before going out there, I wanted to visit the old Ryman Auditorium, which had become a museum back then. I also wanted to have a beer at Tootsie's Orchid Lounge, an old bar BEHIND the Ryman, that reeked of history and celebrities. Finally, I wanted to go up and down "Music Row", stopping at various music shops for a 3-year supply of picks, strings and such....that might not be available at Lakenheath................then out to RCA to let 'em all "be in AWE" of the next Chet Atkins!

I walked on the stage of the Ryman.......and pictured myself there, along with Hank Williams and every other major star who'd made their mark at this hallowed theater.

I had my beer at Tootsie's, and sipped on it as I admired all of the autographed photos on the walls............yep, another few years and MINE would be there too!

AND THEN...........I started down Music Row.

"Don't quit your day job, Mikey"...........because in every 3rd or 4th doorway, alleyway and street corner, there were one, two and sometimes three musicians, with fiddles, banjos, guitars, mandolins, you name it. Instrument cases open for donations from people passing by. These guys were some of the most ragged-looking dudes you ever saw! Beat-up instruments and patched-together instrument cases, they were out on the streets of "Music Row" pan-handling for lunch money..............and the WORST ones I heard, were TWICE as good as I was!

REALITY CHECK FOR THE BAZOOKAMAN.........being number ONE at the NCO Club in San Vito, Italy, or at Scrubby's Smokehouse in Mountain Home, Idaho...........don't mean NOTHIN' in Nashville, Tennessee!

Instead or driving out to RCA, I took my shattered dreams and went back to the motel.

I was heart-broken, but as late afternoon approached, I figured I might as well drive on out to Opryland and make the most of the ticket I'd bought. At least I'd get to see the Grand Ole' Opry LIVE, (even though I knew now I'd never play there).

I got out there a little early, parked the car out along the edge of the parking lot, where no one would see me. I got my guitar out of its case, hopped up on the trunk of the car, and played 4 or 5 tunes. I put the guitar back in its case, locked it back in the trunk, and said to myself.................."Well, at LEAST I can say I've played in NASHVILLE......'cause THIS is probably as close as I'll ever get!

Finally, one other thing I'd often heard, came to pass.

The Opry itself ran about two hours, and there were some big name entertainers there too........Porter Wagoner, Grandpa Jones, Loretta lynn and several others....and they put on a great show!

But........driving out after the show, heading for the freeway, I KNEW I had heard BETTER music on the streets that morning....MUCH BETTER.

Maybe it WAS true........maybe it's NOT always what you know, but WHO you know, because I'd heard a better show for FREE that morning on "Music Row", than I'd JUST heard from the people making the RECORDS, and all that BIG MONEY...............figure THAT one out!

Sometimes in life, some of us tend to get a little "full of ourselves" and to ME, this was a well-needed kick in the pants.

FAST-FORWARD...........in the late 80's, I was playing out at Scrubby's one night, and as luck would have it, I was having one of those rare nights that all musicians wish for......the night you never miss a note and you're playing brilliantly and "if only a talent scout would walk through the door"...............

A crusty old Staff Sergeant walked up to me during a break and said, "You're really GOOD!"........."Thank you" I replied in gratitude. He started to walk away, and as he did, he turned his head back a moment and said "You ought to be in Nashville!"

I just smiled.

Actually, in all these years that have passed, my wanting to be the next "Chet Atkins" has graciously faded away, because there's NEVER going to be another one. Chet was the best ever. He could hold an audience spellbound all night, doing nothing but playing the best guitar you'd ever heard. I'd attended four of his concerts and met him once backstage.

Chet Atkins could do things on the guitar that no one else can do, even today, and he did it effortlessly. He'd make it look so easy, you'd run home after the concert, try to imitate what you just saw HIM do LIVE and in FRONT of you........and 10 minutes later, all you wanted to do, is smash YOUR guitar into firewood! He was the best.........ever.

...................and I ain't goin' back to Nashville!.............