drew kennedy,

It’s here!

click on the album cover to be redirected to the download site, made possible by our friends at Lone Star Music.

Here’s a little demo of a song that I wrote this morning. It’s probably not a good idea to post something so new, so poorly recorded, but sometimes you just have to do what you feel is right, and this feels right.

From me to you.

Be on the lookout for Alone, But Not Lonely to go live sometime around noon cst tomorrow.

Thanks to everyone who pre-ordered a copy of this unique and special project we’ve been working on.

Enjoy– see you tomorrow!

The Captain and The Highway

You can purchase your handmade, signed and numbered, limited edition copy of Alone, But Not Lonely

through Lone Star Music by clicking here . Info on the free download coming SOON!

On Thursday, March 11th, I’ll be turning thirty.

It’s really not that big of a deal. It would be if this were Medieval Britain: turning thirty would mean that I was about ready to kick the bucket. Thanks to the advancement of sanitation, medicine, education, and overall personal cleanliness, however, this is no longer the case.

It also means that I’ve successfully managed to avoid that weird “27″ thing that got Hendrix and Joplin and Morrison… but those guys were all already famous, so I had a feeling it wouldn’t really apply to me.

Oh, yeah, and that whole die at the age of 29 in the back of a caddy thing that Hank Williams pulled off… I managed to skip out on that one, too. Again, he had that famous thing going on, but he also had that drink a bottle of whiskey a day thing going on, too… that was an easy one to miss.

Mind you, I’m not trying to put myself in the same category as these people, I’m just looking at numbers here. Numbers and music.

Thirty really isn’t anything other than an age with a zero at the end of it. Those are supposed to be “milestone” ages. To me, after 21, the next milestone age is 35, when I can run for President.

Which I will not be doing.

I just like knowing that I could.

In the end, I guess I did fall prey to the whole milestone thing, and so a couple of months ago I decided I’d do something special for it.

It’s more for you than it is for me, though.

My friends over at Lone Star Music will be helping me out with this, and I’m pretty excited about it.

Starting some time on March 11th, you’ll be able to download my first ever live acoustic album, Alone, But Not Lonely for free. You punch in your email address, and BOOM, you’ve got a live album. It’ll be as easy as that.

We’re also printing up 300 limited edition albums, with artwork hand made entirely by my personal Artist-in-Residence, Holly. That’s the cover up there. It’s a print. We’re hand making all of them, individually numbering them as the come out (so that means if you get #78, it really was the 78th one we did), and signing them. They’ll be available through Lone Star Music, and with me on the road. Once they’re gone, they’re gone. No more will be made. The download will still be available, though.

And the recording?

I think it’s a pretty excellent one. 6 new songs, 6 old songs, and a bunch of the stories behind them. This is a pretty fair representation of what you’d get if you came to an acoustic show of mine, I think. And that’s why I wanted to do this– it doesn’t cost you anything to pick it up, and if you like what you hear, I’d really love to see you at a show. I know people are busy… I know times are tight… I know some people just don’t go out of their way to see new artists, or pick up new records. I’m trying to eliminate all of that for you. I don’t want you to have an excuse to NOT check out my stuff… I want this to be as easy as possible for you. If you like what you hear, come see me at a show, pick up a copy of my last studio record, An Audio Guide To Cross Country Travel, tell a friend where they can download the album….

And if you don’t dig what you hear, at least it didn’t cost you anything.

I think that’s fair.

So, at thirty, I give you… me.

In true Artist-As-An-Egomaniac form, perhaps.

But really, I’m just trying to be nice.

The track listing:

Cincinnati

AM Radio

St. Abilene

Tending Bar By The Tracks At Midnight In Tupelo, Mississippi

The Last Waltz

Caroline

We’ve All Got Our Marks To Make

A Picture of You

Rolling Around In The Bed

Room # 27

A Cold Goodnight

Vapor Trails

I’ll pass along the info once we’re ready to roll on the 11th.

I hope you’ll enjoy it!

This is a photo blog of my recent trip that took me from New Braunfels, to New York, to New Braunfels for two shows over the course of about 48 hours.

I woke up on Monday morning, February 15th, at 4:30 am. It’s an hour that is usually seen by those in my line of work on the back end– perhaps at the conclusion of a late night– rather than on the front end, as I was seeing it. It was dark and it was cold. I took a quick shower, made some coffee, and was in the van headed to the San Antonio airport by 5. I was carrying with me my guitar and a small bag, so I was able to skip the baggage process altogether and make my way directly through security when I arrived.

We pushed back from our gate at 6:30, and I caught some quick z’s on the short flight over to Houston. I had a 30 minute layover, and then boarded my next flight to La Guardia. After completing the crossword puzzle in the back of the Continental magazine (it’s what all the rock stars do while flying, trust me) I caught a few more z’s and then awoke to see a snowy landscape a few thousand feet below me.

I landed at La Guardia at 1 PM and hopped into a cab. The ride from the airport to Midtown Manhattan was about 12 miles as the crow flies… more like 15 as the cabbie drives. If you’ve never experienced New York from the back seat of a cab, I highly suggest it. It’s like you’re watching someone play a video game… and you’re in it. In this particular version of the game it is apparently possible to earn bonus points with every use of the cab’s horn. My driver used the horn as if he was editing expletives from his thought process– at every turn a bad driver or wayward pedestrian that would have otherwise earned a more colored word from the depths of the english language– earned a trumpetous salute from my man behind the wheel. I started counting after the first couple of blows, and lost track around number 30. It was entertaining, to say the least, and his bonus points were many. We crossed the Queensboro Bridge, from which I could see Manhattan standing tall through the iron support tresses, high above Roosevelt Island. First a left onto Lexington, then a right onto 55th street, and eventually a stop in front of the Shoreham Hotel. I checked in, enjoyed a complimentary glass of champagne (this was clearly not the same treatment a person of my social stature receives at the kind of hotels in which I usually stay, so I enjoyed it), and I hit the street in search of that ubiquitous form of sustainable goodness– the corner vended hot dog.

I scarfed down the dog, in all of its spicy mustardy goodness, while waking the three blocks to Central Park. As I was waiting to cross the street, I thought about asking a local if he knew of any secret, rarely seen portions of the park I should seek out– you can never go wrong with local knowledge, and he obviously knew the area well– but he was too busy eating lunch and feeding pigeons. I decided to remain silent, as did he, and instead crossed the street. The park was fantastic… especially fantastic on this, a day of full sunshine and blue skies. Snow covered the ground. The air was brisk, but refreshing. The edges of the park are bordered by the tallest of tall buildings, and seeing them through the leafless trees almost creates a sort of man-made frame of concrete, brick, and glass that perfectly encapsulates the large tract of mother nature that so famously occupies the very heart of Manhattan.

First, I walked past The Pond, across it’s bridge, and stopped at Wolfman Rink to take in the sights. Hundreds of people, young and old alike, were skating counter clockwise around the large white sheet of ice. Music was playing just loud enough so that the only other audible sounds of their entertainment was the laughter that accompanied each fall suffered, or each trick completed. There was, I thought, perhaps no more care free spot on the island than this, the rink in front of me. I sat on a bench for half of an hour, watching and listening, and then decided to head over towards Strawberry Fields, the memorial area dedicated to John Lennon. I was in New York for a musical engagement, so the pilgrimage only seemed right. I walked past the Central Park Carousel, along the 65th Street Transverse, hung a right onto West Drive, and took a left into the Strawberry Fields area. I looked up at The Dakota, the building in which Lennon lived, and in front of which he was so tragically killed, through the bright red underbrush of Strawberry Fields, and then walked over to the Imagine mosaic. It’s a peaceful little spot that makes for excellent people watching as musicians, tourists, and city dwellers alike inhabit the area in semi-silent timbre. Having paid my respects, and collected my fill of observation, I took a left, past the mosaic, and headed down Central Park West.

I passed Tavern On The Green (not to be confused with our own New Braunfels institution, Tavern In The Gruene, which playfully gleans its name from this famous, currently closed, institution of a restaurant) and cut back into the park, passing one of the more cold shouldered city residents I would meet. I took a few minutes on a park bench for some architecturally inspired reflection, and then decided to make my way to Columbus Circle. I passed the circle and headed down Broadway, where I grabbed another delicious hot dog for some warmth and company (at $1.50 each, they’re really the most budget friendly option for on-the-go dining while in the city, and even if it is a bit cliche, I challenge you to find a better tasting hot dog, anywhere) and ate it while weaving my way through the increasing foot traffic of 4 PM Manhattan. I took a left onto 55th, and headed back to the hotel for a shower and a few minutes of downtime before I had to head out to my show.

(yes, the complimentary robe that you can see laying on the edge of the bed was comfortable).

At 5:30 I grabbed my guitar and set out for the mile and a half walk to O’Flaherty’s Ale House for the show. I took my first left onto 6th Avenue. 5 blocks later, I was walking directly under the Radio City Music Hall sign. Three guys around my age were walking just behind me, with two of them holding NBC Studio bags, clearly playing the part of the visiting friends with the third acting as a tour guide, pointing things out to the left and right. He mentioned an upcoming Elvis Costello show, and then mentioned a “new guy, Hayes Carll, from Texas, I think,” and suggested that they see him when he comes to town.

I have to admit, I thought about the possibility that one day there might be a few friends walking in that very spot, talking about going to see one of my shows, and how cool it was that I would hear a familiar name like Hayes’s while walking through this monstrosity of a city. It’s a small world in spite of how large it seems– and it seems especially large in Manhattan.

I passed Rockafeller Center, walked 4 more blocks, and took a right onto 46th, where Times Square rose to meet me. I thought about how lucky I was to be walking through the “center of the universe” on my way to a show… I wasn’t just going to a Broadway show, or a comedy routine… I was going to perform my show. I imagined what it would feel like to be an actor in one of those famous musicals or less-famous off-Broadway numbers, walking to a performance, knowing that you truly are a part of what makes this place so… so where to be. I was just there for the night, and I still felt pretty good about it. I would think that being there permanently, with a career in the performing arts, would be pretty fantastic. The last time I was in Times Square was New Years Eve on 1999, and it was just as over-the-top and vibrant as I remembered.

I got to O’Flaherty’s a little after six and met a friend of mine, Erin, and her boyfriend Jim. It was good to see a familiar face– one who grew up where Holly and I did, and who has visited us in New Braunfels. It’s easy to feel anonymous in such a large place, and meeting a friend made the trip feel a little more personable. No one I passed on my travels that day knew me from any other nameless face that they themselves were passing, and it felt welcoming to see a face I recognized. The show kicked off at 7. I played, followed by Sheila Marshall and her husband, Scott. More familiar faces arrived, since this show was a part of an event for a business expo in the city, and our host, the owner of a Dallas based company, had brought us in to add a little local flair. I enjoyed the Guinness, I enjoyed the Jameson, and I enjoyed the night of music and fun. I also enjoyed getting to see my friend Kevin McNulty. If you enjoy Trivial Pursuit as I do (of course, right?) then you have McNulty to thank. He’s the original guy behind the game, which is pretty cool in my book. The evening wound down, we said our goodbyes, and I took to the street with my guitar on my back.

Snow was falling across the city. It was 12:30 and the streets were decidedly less crowded. Walking through one of the biggest metropolitan areas in the world, with winter at my face, knowing that music had given me the opportunity to experience a quick trip like this to NYC was almost a zen like moment. Of course the Jameson could have been the incubator of the moment as well, but I’m not about to let that realization ruin my moment of reminiscence. I walked back through Times Square, to 6th, stopped to take a few pictures for this project along the jaunt, saw a famous word sculpted in a famous way, and then decided to duck into an Irish pub next to my hotel for a night cap.

I sat in the corner at the bar inside of the pub and watched as the bartender expertly juggled three different conversations with three separate patrons. One was a waiter, who had just gotten off of his shift at a nearby upscale restaurant. He was clearly upset with his take for the night:

“I swear, I would have gotten more out of tonight if I would have taken all of the money that I have in the bank, gave it to you, and let you kick me square in the junk. I mean, it’s a god damned porterhouse steak and a bottle of wine. He left me six dollars. SIX DOLLARS! And that wasn’t the worst of it!”

The bartender bought him a round for his pain and suffering.

“There is nothing wrong with this jersey. It’s a Phoenix Coyotes jersey. I just came here to watch the game and these guys want to beat me up over a Phoenix Coyotes jersey.”

The bartender (using the proper terminology) said that he thought the man’s sweater looked sharp.

“I thought New York was big, and then I got here. It’s huge. This is my first time here. I’m from Nebraska. It’s so alive here! I want to move here. This is how to live! I might never go home. I’m serious! Oh my god, oh my god, people would freak if I just stayed!”

The bartender welcomed her to town.

He came over to me, leaned in and said, “every night. I get this every night. One more?”

I accepted the offer, and had one more Guinness before walking next door. I hopped into the elevator, headed up to my room, and turned in for the night.

I woke up the next morning at 7, hopped into the shower, made it downstairs by 8 and caught a cab back to La Guardia. I grabbed a cup of coffee and a bagel, and then decided another cup was in order, so I grabbed two more bagels, figuring Holly wouldn’t mind one for breakfast the next day, and settled in to wait for my 10:30 flight. The 10:30 to Houston turned into the 11 to Houston, which boarded at 11, but didn’t push back from the gate until 11:30. I slept for most of the flight, waking up a few times to notice the landscape transition out of my window from snow-laden to familiar brown and green patchwork. I made it to Houston with 5 minutes to spare before my connector to San Antonio was supposed to leave, so I checked the gate number, and took off to the other side of the terminal at a dead sprint, convincing the gate agent upon my arrival of the importance of my being on the flight. She rushed me down the jet way, and we caught them just before they closed the door. I thanked her for helping me. I was San Antonio bound.

I landed in San Antonio at 3:45 and hopped into my van (saying hello to Porter, of course) and made it back to the house by 4:15. I took a quick shower, met Rodney, and drove over to Gruene Hall for our early 6:00 show. We met Holly and our friend Bryan for dinner at the Gristmill before hand, mowed through our meal, and were set up and running right on time. We played for 4 straight hours– 6-10 PM. The shows that I’ve been playing at Gruene Hall have been going exceptionally well as of late, and this one was just as packed as the others I have done. We had a good mix of people in the crowd. Regulars, tourists (I went from a tourist to a guy that lives in town and can call other people tourists when they visit, all in a few short hours), even a guy from Ireland that sat right up front, giving me the thumbs up when I apologized for forgetting that it was Fat Tuesday. For me, I said, once I hit January 2nd, my only thought is of my favorite holiday, Saint Patrick’s Day.

That’s him in the tan jacket.

We finished up the show, broke down our equipment, and headed home. Even though I was only gone for a little more than a day, the travel was pretty heavy, and the familiar confines of our little house in New Braunfels was exactly the comfortable haven I needed. I kissed Holly goodnight, and wrapped up another 48 hours in the life of me, a relatively unknown songwriter, who gets to see and do some pretty awesome things.

of a relatively unknown songwriter.

Give or take, of course. The 48 hours, I mean.

On Monday I’ll be winging it up to New York City for a show. The next day, I’ll be playing Gruene Hall. That’s a lot of travel for two shows. It’s pretty awesome, of course, that I get to do this for a living. I get to see things that I wouldn’t otherwise get to see– meet people that I wouldn’t usually get to meet. It will be exciting, and it will be exhausting… but that’s why they invented caffeine, right?

So, I’m going to take this opportunity to show you exactly what goes into a quick trip across the country and back for two shows– in pictures and words. From the 4 am Monday morning wake up call, to the end of the night on Tuesday at Gruene Hall, I’m going to document it and share it with you.

Just a heads up. Look for the post on Wednesday, February 17th.

South Central Texas has been pretty dry over the course of the last two years.

That may not sound very newsworthy to those of you who don’t call this area home– Texas? Dry? No way!

Here in New Braunfels, we rely on the graces of mother nature to support a large chunk of our economy. As the rivers flow, so flow the tourist dollars. Many of my friends run river-based businesses, so the heavy rainfall that has been present here over the last few months has been a blessing from the skies. While the precipitation has been needed, it’s still a little hard to clear the fog of morning from the brain when you wake up to a constant drizzle falling from the grey clouds overhead.

If mother nature hasn’t been much help in getting my blood pumping lately, at least the things going on around here have.

The recording of my acoustic show last Friday went really well. I’ve decided that I’m going to shoot for a release date of March 11th for the download and the limited edition CD. The fine folks over at Lone Star Music are going to be helping me with this, and I’m grateful that they’re just as excited about it as I am.

March 11th is a Thursday. I don’t know why indie artists feel a need to be beholden to the mysterious and age old tradition of Tuesday releases. That’s what the majors do, and we are not majors, thankfully. We’re independent. We get to do things on our own terms, and on our own dimes… so it only makes sense to me that we should try something a little different.

March 11th is also my 30th birthday, and it feels right that I should put out an album that reflects what so many of you have seen from me over these last 5-plus years that I’ve spent muddled in this, the music business, on that particular day. The download will be free– a little “thank you” from me to you, the people that have helped me to reach this somewhat remarkable, somewhat depressing (let’s be honest, letting go of your 20’s isn’t exactly high on anyone’s list of things to do) milestone. I’ll keep you posted as we march through the litany of things one must accomplish before a brand new baby of a record can be released unto the wild.

After all, you have to make sure it’s able to fend for itself out there in the great unknown. It’s just the responsible thing to do.

I guess the years can pass you by like mile markers along the highway. Before I know it, I’ll probably be passing one with a big, bright “40″ on it. I still feel like I’m 18, though, so I guess that’s all that really matters.

I’ve settled on a title for the album: Alone, But Not Lonely

It’s a good collection of songs from my past as well as from my future– I played 5 new songs in the set and I’m expecting to include all of them on the release.

Now, I just need to go over the tapes and see where we stand. I’m looking forward to the challenge.

There are a ton of dates on the calendar, so keep an eye out for me as I traverse the dusty, windswept roads of the Great American Southwest.

They’re more muddy than dusty, I guess, but I was going for imagery there, so please indulge me.

Over the next couple of months I’ll be playing all over Texas (as usual) as well as in New Mexico, Mississippi, and Tennessee. It’s a good thing I like to travel. Come out and say hello.

After all, if it wasn’t for you, there’d be no me.

If you’d like to help Rodney Hayden and I fill some dates on our tour out West in June/July for our newest leg of the now famous New American Voices tour, or if you’re interested in a House Concert (my favorite type of show!), feel free to shoot me an email by clicking here

I hope all is well with each and every one of you.

In mid June, ol’ Rodney Hayden and I will be heading out for yet another leg of the New American Voices Tour. This time, we’ll be pointing our ponies west. If you know of any places we should contact to play, or are interested in hosting a house concert, send an email to me through the contact page. We’ll do all of the heavy lifting from there.

The following dates are approximations, but I’m posting them to give you an idea as to where we’ll be. We’ll consider playing any dates that are in these general regions, or along our way to them. So, here we go:

Wed 6/16- Lubbock, TX
Thur 6/17- Amarillo, TX / Red River, NM
Fri 6/18- Serious Texas BBQ- Durango, CO (Confirmed)
Sat 6/19- Serious Texas BBX- Durango, CO (Confirmed)
Mon 6/21- Salida, CO
Tue 6/22- Breckenridge, CO / Aspen, CO / Frisco, CO
Wed 6/23- The Walnut Room- Denver, CO (Confirmed)
Thur 6/24- Fort Collins, CO / Laramie, WY / Cheyenne, WY
Fri 6/25- Casper, WY / Jackson, WY
Sat 6/26- Bozeman, MT
Tue 6/29- Salt Lake City, UT
Wed 6/30- Cedar City, UT
Thur 7/1- Flagstaff, AZ
Fri 7/2- Jerome, AZ / Prescott, AZ / Sedona, AZ
Sat 7/3- Albuquerque, NM

So that’s the whole shebang. If you can lend us a hand, we’ll be forever grateful. And be your best friend. And wash your car or something.

I wake up every morning and ask myself that very question.

Sometimes I’m in a hotel room, a couple of hundred miles away from home.
Sometimes I’m in my room, getting ready to figure out what kinds of business things I need to take care of (don’t kid yourself, in order to be successful in this line of work you have to be equal parts booking agent, PR person, business developer, and performer… with the latter usually taking up the least amount of your time).

Today, I added to my list of things I need to do: “Fill People In.”

Fill you in on what, exactly?

Well, a lot. Here goes.

At the end of this month I’m going to be recording an acoustic show. Sometime after that, I’m going to give it away for free through this website. Holly and I have been talking about her designing some very special artwork for a limited edition pressing of the show, so we may do that too (gotta pay the bills, right?). I’ve played hundreds upon hundreds of acoustic shows– they’re nearest to my heart when it comes to performing– so I figured, why not record one for you. And give it away. OK, so it won’t be totally free. I’ll probably ask you for your email address in exchange for the recording (to keep you updated with all of my illustrious goings-on, of course, and not to shill discounted medications or anything like that), but email addresses are free, so maybe it will be totally free.

Now that I’ve thoroughly confused you, lets move on.

We’ll be shooting a video for “Room #27″ soon. I’m excited to give this new venture a whirl, and we’ve been working hard on the script. I think you’re really going to dig it.

Finally, Rodney Hayden and I will be reviving the New American Voices tour this spring, in conjunction with the fine, upstanding individuals over at the9513.com. I’m excited about this– we’re going to be doing a west coast swing this time around, and for the first couple of shows, we’ll be joined on stage by some of the best, most successful songwriters wandering the earth these days. Keep an eye out for some announcements as to just who those blokes will be once we get everything confirmed.

And one last thing– some of you may have noticed the addition of the little “freelance” tab up there at the top of the screen. I’ve been doing a lot of freelance writing work lately. It’s something that I’m proud of, and it’s something that I enjoy doing, so I figured I’d share it with all of you. If you’d like to read what I’ve written, you can click on the link on that page to surf your way over to “words to kick around,” which serves as my tiny little corner of the interwebs in regards to my written pieces.

I hope 2010 finds you rested, recharged, and ready for some new and exciting things!

See you out there, somewhere, on the road!

dk

Austin and I pulled into Raleigh, North Carolina at 2:30 PM. Sweet Will Smith (friend to many, stranger to none) met us at Woody’s, a local hangout a few blocks from his condo and we recapped the events of the tour over a few frosty beverages. The show that evening was doubling as a Toys For Tots benefit, so after knocking back our brews we jumped into the Element and parked it as his place before heading out to buy some toys. Holly was flying in for the Raleigh and Richmond shows, and after grabbing a significant amount of loot we waited for her arrival at the condo.

Sweet Will’s pad is spectacular– its huge floor-to-ceiling windows overlook the very center of the city. It’s a veritable home away from home for me… I’ve spent many a day there, taking a breather from the hectic pace of life on the road. I even wrote most of Buzzing Like A Wire while sitting in an armchair overlooking the busy city street below his place one sunny afternoon a year or so ago. Will has been an invaluable friend to me over the years, and if a man can measure the value of his worth by the quality of his friends, Sweet is one of the reasons why I consider my life and experiences to be of the highest value. I hope everyone has a Sweet Will in their lives.

Holly and Summer (Will’s girlfriend, and ambassador for all that is good in Raleigh) arrived a few hours later, and we decided to order pizza and hang out for a couple of hours before we headed to The Oxford for the show. Fully fortified, we set out on the lengthy trek to the venue… down 5 flights, hang a right, walk 100 ft, and duck into The Oxford. It’s in the same building as Will’s condo, so the load in and out was as easy as it has ever been.

We played that night to a packed house of friends and fans. By closing time, the crowd had thinned out, we said our goodbyes to the people that were still hanging around, and headed back to Will’s place (again, up 5 flights, down a hallway, and through his front door) for after party, which lasted well into the wee hours of the morning in fitting Raleigh fashion.

Raleigh has a lot going for it– a growing city that has been developing its reputation as a family-oriented, yet slightly cosmopolitan beacon amidst the pine trees and piedmont of the North Carolinian landscape. It’s hip and it’s fun, but that’s not what makes it such a special place. It’s the people. There is not a familiar building, street, venue, or park that I do not associate with wonderful memories that I have shared with equally wonderful friends. Friends that feel almost as if they are family.

Raleigh is my kind of city.

Then again, any city would be my kind of city if it had Sweet Will and his merry band of ladies and gentleman living within its borders.

In the morning we’d be off to Richmond to see more friends and play one more show before making the long drive back to Texas.

Friends,

One of my favorite people in the world has fallen victim to the greed of a thief. His one of a kind Gibson acoustic guitar (so one of a kind, in fact, that only 3 of them exist– the second belongs to Willie Nelson, and the third to Dan Rather) which was made from wood taken from an old army barracks in Texas, was stolen after his show last night (December 23rd) at the Saxon Pub in Austin.

Walt’s music has touched many, including myself, and he has long been a shining star of brilliance and compassion to those lucky enough to know him.

If you have any information as to its whereabouts, please send Walt an email:

walt at waltwilkins.com

From Walt:
gibson americana model, yellow pine facewood, with 2 rivet holes and 2 other circles in the wood, all surrounding the soundhole. a 1-of-a-kind gtr. i have the serial # as well. there are many, many pictures of it all over the web. gracias, all. i believe it will find its way home. merry Christmas to each of you, w

And to each and every one of you, it is my wish that the spirit of Christmas touches you today, tomorrow, and every day.

dk