Chapter 11

He cleared his throat. “I grew up in a trailer park. Been pretty much on the other side of the tracks since birth. Mom was in and out of the house until she was gone permanently when I turned ten. I got the music from her. The times when she was around, we sang songs and played with her old acoustic guitar. Dad…well, he resented our relationship, such as it was. He made life a living hell for me once she left. I hid the guitar from him so he wouldn’t destroy it, and I taught myself how to play and sing. I never did it when he was around, though. He worked nights and slept most of the day, so I tended to get away with it. He, along with all the other dads and moms around me, never aimed for anything more than a paycheck, if that. I, on the other hand, was sick to death of a house on wheels, and the stench of poverty and apathy that surrounded me.