Mr. Jimmy Page, where do I even begin to begin? I know that typically I try to keep this blog more “professional” than personal, unless I’m specifically asked my opinion on something—but allow me to stray a little from my usual path here. Close to two years ago, one riff, masterfully constructed by this man changed my life entirely. I realize how positively trite that phrase sounds, but it’s absolutely the truth. Without Jimmy, I can honestly say that I would be a different person. He opened my eyes to the idea of music having a meaning and playing a prominent role in one’s life. My hundreds of records, the thousands of songs in my iTunes library (a good tenth of which are Zeppelin bootlegs), the posters and pictures of musicians that adorn my bedroom walls,this blog, and the way I live my life, with music at the center of it all, would not be possible without him.
So, Jimmy, a very, very happy 68th birthday to you and thank you for all you’ve done and continue to do for me.
Rick: If that plane leaves the ground and you’re not with him, you’ll regret it. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon and for the rest of your life.Ilsa: But what about us?Rick: We’ll always have Paris. We didn’t have it before…we’d…we’d lost it until you came to Casablanca. We got it back last night.Ilsa: When I said I would never leave you…Rick: And you never will. But I’ve got a job to do too. Where I’m going, you can’t follow. What I’ve got to do, you can’t be any part of. Ilsa, I’m no good at being noble, but it doesn’t take much to see that the problems of three little people don’t amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world. Someday you’ll understand that. Here’s looking at you, kid.
Fortunately, I’m tall and play guitar.