I was told, by my 6th Grade chum, Bobby, that the new kid in our class, Ronny, played guitar, and was actually good at it. Bobby knew I was trying to start a band, but my fellow classmates, whom I was friendly with, and trying to get into my band, were mostly tone deaf.
Bobby took me to Ronny's house, and Ronny took us upstairs to his room. When he played the first two chords on his guitar, and then went into a rock chord pattern, I was transfixed. My life would change, forever, as I knew it: I had found a guy to start a band with, at eleven years old. This was the single most profound experience I ever had, bar none, in my life. It was spiritual, it was transcendent.
Ronny and I went on to form and play in one of our neighborhood's most popular private party bands. I learned how to lead the band, write contracts for it, and play bass guitar. Up to that point, I was taking guitar lessons, when my dad actually showed up to take me, with a teacher who was terrible, for me.
Ronny and I played through freshman year, in high school. His family moved to the suburbs, after that, but we kept in contact. Our lead guitarist, Steve, went on to play with me, later, in college, as did our drummer, turned keyboardist, Rob.
Ronny was my Best Man, for my first marriage. My band, with Steve and Rob, played my reception.
When I got to Austin, I would form a band that I would play in for the next twenty years. That band made me my fortune, such as it is
Ronny and I talk on the phone, still, a few times a month. We see each other every so often, as he's now in Florida. We both worked for his dad's diamond business, selling on the road, out of college.
I can still see Ronny sitting on the edge of his bed, playing that Gibson electric. I still hear those chords, after more than fifty years. Magic..........
.. lol 
lol 