Goldfish in the Shark Tank #1

It is funny to look back to childhood and remember all the funny predictions adults made about your future endeavors. I remember all kinds of them from early on. Mom always thought I would be an architect. This was mostly based on a love of blocks as a five-year-old. Grandma thought I would be a professional golfer. She never saw me play, but it was fun to think about. Everyone in grade school seemed to think I was destined for greatness.
For some strange reason the optimism came to a grinding halt during high school and beyond. Apparently an obsession with girls, speeding tickets and detention doesn't spur the same whimsical thoughts in the older generations. But despite watching my hair grow much faster than my brain my family still held out hope. My poor father sat quietly as he watched my ears get pierced, my cars get wrecked and my life's focus become pizza spinning and playing drums. I did always manage to keep a job and while I'm sure things weren't going according to his plan at least I wasn't costing him money. To his eternal credit he smiled and welcomed me at the front desk of the division of the US Attorney's office he was in charge of. Leather biker jacket, waist-length hair and all. My family was so nice about underachieving I was completely shocked when my decision not to go to college met with resistance.
What could possibly be wrong with living in a small apartment and working at the mall pizza joint. (Still one of my favorite jobs.)
"Please take the ACT one more time," my mother pleaded.
"Don't worry Mom. I'll take some classes at the Community College. I'll be fine." I assured her.
I can only imagine this promise meant very little to her. She had already watched her son go from the 3rd ranked student in his class to the bottom 25% in one year.
"I'll let you take the van to Colorado for your ski trip if you try one more time." She begged.
"Fine."
"I'll show her." I thought.
So the night before the Saturday morning test I stayed up until 2am drinking all the NightTrain I could get my hands on. Surely a good hang over would make the four-hour test fly by.
Not the case.
I remember nothing of the morning of my second ACT except that I must have put my name on some else's exam. I only know the second part because two months later I got my results back and a full scholarship to any school in the state.
Never argue with your mother. They have weird powers.

So off to school I went. I was headed to Northeast Missouri State University (currently Truman State.) I came to this decision because of its fine academic reputation and the fact that my high school girlfriend would be attending. It turned out to be a great school that I and both my younger sisters attended, but I can take very little credit for that good decision.
It dawns on me now that very few of the good decisions in my life up to this point were mine. Better to be lucky they say.
This is probably also a good time to note that I was not a very big fan of beer at this point in my life. Since much of the rest of this story revolves around it in one way or the other it is notable that I only drank cheap beer because I would get laughed at for drinking wine. How many hippy,bug-driving rock drummers crush a wine goblet over their head after the show? By the end of my first year of college I suppose I had gotten used to it, but that is about it.
Sure, I was often the guy collecting the three dollars at the keg at various parties, but I always made a point to slam the first few draws to get past my dislike for whatever fine beverage was being tapped.
The first year of college came and went. There were classes, parties and regular trips back home. Grades were pretty good so far and I had chosen my future calling. Music.
There was only one problem with my chosen calling. I wasn't particularly good at music. I could play every instrument just well enough to get on stage, but not the kind of talent that "Behind the Music" stories are made of. I was still years away from being self aware about my musical shortcomings when my real passion crept in with very little notice.