It was a warm October morning in 2007. I was standing by a Yellow Cab in front of my Southern California Townhouse. The bags were heavy. So was my heart. Sunlight broke through the shadows then disappeared once more behind the passing clouds. The kids were waving down to me from the front window. I wiped the tears. Looking back was hard. Hell, it still is. It was a somber time. It was a sad story. It was an unsung ballad. That day was when the first serious thought of writing country music entered my mind.

It was a warm October morning in 2007. I was standing by a Yellow Cab in front of my Southern California Townhouse. The bags were heavy. So was my heart. Sunlight broke through the shadows then disappeared once more behind the passing clouds.

Read more