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I was five and my life was awesome. Never before had been seen a Jedi climbing walls and throwing spider webs. I was all that, only that I could fight like Batman too. I had started to write a series of comics with my own illustrations and was already going through the hundred pages. It was mostly a cheap comedy copy of Spider-Man and Star Wars.

However, my grandfather is one of those classic old men of sturdy constitution. So far I wonder what has he thought of me to confiscate my comics and make me read my first book, a 1947 edition of Dick Sand: A Captain at Fifteen, which I read every day in my one hour session, and whose pages made me sneeze sixty minutes long.

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At the age of eight, we started reading the 5 pounds Harcourt’s StoryTown at school. I really liked those short stories, specially Rikki-Tikki-Tavi, the bravest character in the history of children books. What I didn’t like was that it was extremely heavy, but not as heavy as the Holt’s Human Legacy, the world history book that took me seven years to read.

It was very funny every day I arrived to school, carrying my backpack, my lunchbox, my resistant bags for the two giant books, my other backpack with my soccer uniform, and mi soccer ball.

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When I turned ten, I sign up for a short story writing contest. It was in Spanish but I can say it was my first writing work I am proud of. It was about my passion for soccer and that amazing strong heart beat every weekend entering to the stadium, and the adrenaline running through my veins when jumping on the stands. I won, but I am pretty sure it was because among all the others, my story was true. This simple, but significant contest, taught me that as a writer, you have to let know the reader how do you feel about something and how can you make it sound fantastic but at the same time, real.

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What a year. Until now, probably the best one in my life. I already was a rock n’ roll fanatic, but that year I became a rock n’ roll devote. I don’t know when, where, or how was it, that my knowledge for good music triplicated.

I loved reading about jazz, swing, blues, and learning of rock n’ roll origins. I ordered as many books as I could, and my favorite ones were official biographies such as KISS: Behind the Mask and AC/DC: Hell Ain’t a Bad Place to Be, books that made me be at backstage with the artists.

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Since then, I have been working in a kind of essay about the meaning and evolution of rock n’ roll, their sounds, their melodies, their looks, and their lyrics.

Late 60s and early 70s means peace; Late 80s means power; 90s means realism. Why won’t rock n’ roll rule the world again?

I don’t think rock is dead, but I also don’t think I can start a true rock band because loyal people are few and hard to find. Now, I can only dedicate myself to write songs and make my own music. I like doing it, even though I don’t know if I’m good enough. Now in Boulder I am trying to find a nice place, surrounded by pines and green grass where I can get back to spend the days with my best friends, my acoustic guitar and my soccer ball.

It's been a lonely time.