We All Come From Somewhere

In Titusville Florida many moons ago, an annual gathering of West Virginia transplants was held at the Fox Lake Park Pavilion appropriately called "West Virginia Day". It was a day of family fun and the fiercely competitive horseshoe tournament but most appealing to me was all the music.

My dad taught me how to "second" after him meaning to play the rhythm part while he picked the "lead". I always was a big fan of his music. He was an expert at doing what were called "tear jerkers" along with pickin' and grinnin'.

Dad was born in 1922 up the Do-Da hollow just outside of Point Pleasant, WV. I was born in Huntington, WV thus solidifying our credentials for playing a short set for our fellow hillbillies that I had talked my reluctant dad into doing. Dad and I played a few of his "fiddle tunes on guitar" and I sang a few Hank Williams, Merle Haggard, Ray Price, Ernest Tubb classics and a few Hank Jr. songs which was the new country back then.

As we were unknown we played during the open mic portion of the program which usually featured some off key kids choir trying to sing gospel music they had no interest in singing and a few story teller types that told tall tales and the like.

Dad and I were only going to play 2 songs but the audience was digging the break from the children's choir so we ended up playing for about an hour. Dad brought his Gibson SG with the Bigsby tailpiece and I believe I played someone's Ovation which were those round, plastic backed acoustic electrics that were popular in those days. That was dads last "public" appearance, in fact it was his first public appearance since the war (WW2) because music "is just a hobby". I'm sure he played at the Lion's club on occasion before my time "just for fun".

Obviously it turned out to be my way of living much to the chagrin of mom and dad. I guess it's natural for parents not to understand their children, especially when it comes to career choices. Mom and dad managed to discourage my older brothers from chasing the music bug as a career but I was a lost cause. I just couldn't see doing a job I hated just for the illusion of financial security.

I did the tech school thing because college seemed to be just more mind numbing brainwashing like high school. Tech school turned out to be as good as you made it meaning the correct information was there and most of the teachers were actually pretty good but I was in a class FULL of party people so...it was like unsupervised high school.

I managed to get my "sheep skin" as dad called it and tried doing the day job thing while doing "hobby band" gigs on the weekend. Bless everyone's heart but being in a hobby band sucked for me. That's a whole 'nother story. Luckily I got fired from my day job for not being a "yes" man, not a story worth telling.

The next morning as I sat at the breakfast table with dad, reading the newspaper as we had done every morning since I was able to hold the paper and look at the cartoons, he asked me what I was going to do. I shrugged my shoulders in preparation to have a "discussion" with the old man when the phone rang.

When I was in tech school I would go to the jam night at a country bar on the outskirts of Tampa, 301 North I think it was called. I would usually get asked for my phone number by the bands passing through after setting in with them and sure enough the call was from one of those bands.

I told dad I was going to Opp, Alabama, just north of Florala to pick and grin. "ALL week", he asks.

"For the next couple of weeks", I say. "What's that going to pay", he asks. "Seventy five bucks a night" I reply. "Oh you're making shit up, RTT?" (RTT was some kind of code mom and dad used and you can't bullshit under an RTT, family stuff). "RTT" I affirm and with that I grabbed my shit and that was the start of about a 15 year run on the road.

I LOVED being on the road. That was my ticket to seeing America. It wasn't about becoming a superstar for me, sure that would be nice but playing music 6 nights a week sure beat sitting in an office eight hours a day or any other soul sucking, drug testing corporate type job.

If you want to develop your singing voice and guitar chops, do it 6-7 nights a week for 15 years. It also gives you fortitude and stamina. No sick days or paid holidays or health insurance but the fringe benefits were awesome. I would briefly have a "real" job in Orlando but that only lasted about a year or so while I put together my own band and landed in the Keys.

I came to the Keys in a rock band as I had long ago moved on from country because the direction country music was going wasn't my kind of country so I moved on to rock and roll. Eventually a shift in the live music venues killed the working bands as DJs and "band in the box" karaoke solo acts took the place of professional bands.

When it became painfully obvious that I was going to have to do a solo act to avoid a real job I was told that old country and obscure southern rock songs on a box guitar (acoustic) with no backing tracks wouldn't work in the Keys, in fact "country music won't work at all" I was told. That was over 20 years and thousands of solo shows ago.

While the "Luke Sommer Glenn" band is known primarily as a classic rock/southern rock/variety band, on my solo gigs I do a lot more classic country. Now the opportunity exists for me, with the help of a genuine, Nashville cowboy to make a REAL, AUTHENTIC classic country album as a tribute to my dad and to my first love, classic country music. I know "album" doesn't mean what it used to but...it'll be offered on cd and usb memory stick for anyone interested.

We've already "tracked" five songs or so because Dan Furmanick is a kindred spirit of classic country and an ace session player and production guy and I am very blessed to work with someone of his caliber. We're looking forward to sharing our efforts with you and keep your eyes peeled for a live performance of this material soon. Peace and Love!