First guitar: a Zen-on suburst solid-body electric. Costume: as early Beatlesque as could be managed at the time though the hairstyle was not allowed. Circa 1966.   I grew up on the southwest coast of Canada and it's been many years since I first dabbled in music with adolescent friends in various basements, probably driving our parents crazy. It's just as much fun now as it was then though. One thing I owe my dad thanks for is a brief period of music lessons with one of his acquaintances who played guitar, a red Gibson ES-335, in a weekend band. We had no vocalist so our repertoire consisted of mostly Ventures instrumental covers though we idolized The Beatles. The lack of vocals later gave me a strong appreciation for guitar heroes from Jimi Hendrix, Jimmy Page and Yngwie Malmsteen to Al Di Meola, John McLaughlin and Allan Holdsworth, and instrumental music in general. Yamaki acoustic, circa 1973. My first instrument was a Zen-on solid-body electric guitar, seen above. Now it's a rarity; I should have kept it! Soon after, I added a Japanese copy of a Hofner hollow-body bass like Paul McCartney's. Two of the Japanese instrument makers at Zen-on later moved to Yamaki. In my early 20s, I bought a Yamaki copy of a CF Martin acoustic steel string, a spruce-top, rosewood guitar that was superior to any Martin I've tried since. I wish I still had it too but it's been replaced by a Simon & Patrick acoustic. I'd always had a strong drive to play professionally but was held back by well-meaning parents. Fortunately, I decided to yield to it before I got too old, though I was 27. My first road trip was a winter tour of Yukon and northern BC as bassist with The Roadhouse Nites which was an eye-opener. For that gig I got a Fender Jazz bass with a Precision neck, kind of a hot rod. The finish was rough, so I sanded it down to bare wood, oiled it and that was it. It was traded in on an Ibanez Musician bass with onboard EQ after I saw a poster of Sting with one in a music store. I'd by then acquired a Gibson Les Paul Pro, black with single-coil "soap bar" pick-ups, for which I'd traded a Les Paul Recorder I found in a junk shop several years earlier. Jeff Beck's Blow by Blow featured a black Les Paul on the cover, though it had humbucker pick-ups. Follow the leader! Gibson Les Paul lapel pin. Later, I started my own band, then joined several others, eventually covering the lesser-known venues of Western Canada. I seem to remember it was either really great or just awful, never in the middle, but I lived for those nights under the par 64s (stage lighting). Land of the midnight sun! …and cigarette smoke, unfortunately. However, life presents us with challenges as we go forward and, if we're lucky, we accept them and continue without getting stuck. One of those challenges kept me busy for a long time, so much so that I felt I had to give up music for a couple of decades in order to concentrate on it. Little real listening, though I managed to hang around a prairie blues bar fairly often… well, perhaps too often… for a few chilly years and attended only three concerts in 20 years, that of ZZ Top, Bruce Cockburn (Tony Levin on bass) and guitarist John Scofield at a jazz festival. Fender Jazz bass with Precision neck, circa 1978. Then I was fortunate to be invited to a biannual wildman camping retreat in the mountains of south-central British Columbia where I met several new friends who are also musicians. With their encouragement, I gradually got some of my chops back around the campfire (a very special thanks to Johnny). I kept thinking of something I overheard Wayne Dyer say whilst passing by a TV: "Don't die with your song still inside you." The first result was The Green Man named after the ancient symbol of the interface between man and nature and, in part, after the extraordinary comeback of master jazz guitarist Pat Martino whose aneurysm caused a total loss of ability. Years later, having to relearn his music from recordings, he regained his former stature. This was inspirational to me because I'd also lost and regained something precious during the same period, like the green spring that returns after a barren winter. I'm "green" in another way, i.e. always a beginner. Thanks for visiting. ~Robert Grey Close this window