I was born in a prairie farmhouse called "the old Fraser place" that my parents were renting.
At six years old I fashioned my first guitar out of an aluminum grain shovel and began to emulate the songs I heard on the radio. One day I came into the kitchen and stood on an old washtub and sang Folsom Prison Blues and I remember when I finished my Dad turned to my Mum and said, "There's something wrong with this kid".
I was forced to leave the community at seventeen after a song I wrote offended local hog farmers so I moved to the big city to pursue my lifelong dream of becoming a booze runnin' motor gunnin' law breakin' love makin' rebel.
I quickly fell in with some pretty loose women and quite honestly I don't really remember much after that for like three decades. Then I moved to Denman Island where my soul was saved by the love of a former A&W carhop who put me right.