Had a rough time with my Dad as a kid. Messed me up. Jealous of my Mom's love. Most of the time, he was alright, but the first 12 years... low self-esteem, confusion, hurt, guilt, shame. Had to swallow my feelings. Had trouble with confrontation. Was never my own "little man" running around. It seemed like at every turn when he could, he would tear me down.
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Since I was 2 years old, it was obvious - music. Bought the forty-fives. Fats Domino, Neil Sedaka... and then The Beatles! Last day of 6th grade, I performed my first 2 original songs to a packed school auditorium - cheering! I was on my way.
When I was 15, 16, and 17, we lived in a million-dollar mansion in Hong Kong overlooking the ocean. Two servants and a chauffeur. Dignitaries - famous people - actors! would stay the night. My parents' rapture to newfound fame left my brother and I free to do as we wish... to get away. Smoked cigarettes and drank alcohol like our parents. Pot. Pills. ...after school. Party'd in the clubs downtown in Wan Chai. But kept writing songs - learning on my own how to play guitar.
Instead of encouraging me and backing me up, Dad told me I wasn't good enough. Just like Johnny Cash's father - who was the only performer my dad liked! Is that irony or what?
Houston. In 79, I DJ'd at Cardi's. dance clubs, Country/Western, Marriot. Led to Performing six nights a week for several years with THE KIDS. Back to the clubs. In 87, Mike Heinicke and I formed the band, VENUS - performing only my original songs.
One guy introduced me to crack. All it took was three times one week... I was ruthlessly hooked throughout the whole band's four-year tenure. I should have died hundreds and hundreds of times, but someone HAD to have kept me alive! Throughout those four years, no one knew. I was so lonely.
But on the outside, VENUS - with my music - became the band to see! We headlined. No band dared to play after us. Even a national act! Performed at the famous Rockafellers. Neil Young, Stephen Stills - only the great ones played there.
Finally, in late 1992, the addiction left me broke, no car, no home - walked out of a motel room on a sunny day in south Houston, overlooking the shore waves. Nowhere to go. Shook my head - looked up to the sky... and said, "Ok, God. You got me where you want me. I have to ask you for help." In a flash, I knew what to do! Get a ride from the family leaving next to me, stay the night with one friend, and get into The Shoulders, a Christian-based recovery center. I quit the band.
Narcissistic, emotionally numb, mercilessly addicted to crack - like a stiff, dead dog lying on a dark, cold street. No one could get through. Only God... barely!
I knew it was God, but I still resented him. He had to show me he was not like my dad. Part of the journey. He never gave up! He tailor-made my recovery. When each problem reared up, the solution appeared instantly! Amazing!
Through His Christian counselors, I learned to erase thousands of bad tapes and replaced them with "Jesus loves me and accepts me just the way I am, and I'm OK." It really worked! What used to anger me only prompted a smile and peace.
Then, my Dad finally quit alcohol. My mom never got a chance to be with my dad sober.
Then, in counseling, I was forced to write a letter about everything my dad did to me - from the beginning up to then. I was told to ask him if he wanted to read it. He said, "Yeah." I sent it to him. He said 95% was true. It changed our relationship! From then on, he was my best friend and closest advisor. How about that? God? Hell yeah! Indoctrinated? Hell no! I was healed. I liked myself! I could feel love. I was much better. And I'm still making mistakes and learning more!
The songs I wrote then were not rock, but peaceful running water: snapshots of the ominous - (see videos) changing from the first Tad to the new Tad - but WAY WAY so much more! I recorded the songs with Becka Goodrich. I played the CD to my dad. He said, "Maybe I was wrong." Then back to rock
My brother was the most loving, caring, funniest guy on planet earth - and his friends loved him; but he wasn't as fortunate. The bad tapes were never erased. His addictions led to big trouble. What's cool about John Boy, he wouldn't commit to something unless he really believed it or was ready to give up, like me.
He gave his life to the Lord. Our last vacation together, my brother and I stood facing each other at the train station. Bam! We traded looks of shock! No one talked. We just knew. This could be the last time we'd see each other. Shortly after, he died from congestive heart failure. You can see him sing with his friends, WIDESPREAD PANIC in the VIDEO section. I'll see you soon, my closest friend. You made it!
I've lived within the highest riches monetarily to the lowest, darkest depths this temporary world has to offer.
It was an Amy Grant song at a downtown Jack-In-A-Box that God used to break me down. Then, the last bus. 12 midnight. Front seat - silent. Then the driver turned around to me and said, "You need Jesus."
I've succeeded my first mission. Now God gave me back the recording equipment, the Bogner Escacy, and the band of the greatest guys you could ever play with to get back on the charts, and tour. But that's just the door.
The mission is specific. Work with churches to lead the lost to Christ, allow those in the congregations and audiences to establish homeless shelters for trauma-based Vietnam and Gulf War Vets, become mentors and friends to abused children in CPS and foster kids. That's what I'm supposed to do for the rest of my life with WARRIOR. So when we come to your town or city, say hello!
I wish I could give you what He has given me! I'm not here anymore. Just talk to Jesus right where you are. Get honest. He can deal with that! He's there right next to you anyways! He can take you higher than you could ever try on your own, like He did me. Money's just a tool. Live - work - die. So what? Serve others!
