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“Hey Peter- Just heard you on the radio- sounding GREAT!!! Go get 'em man!!!” 

-Pat Metheny, an excerpt via postcard.

First things first, I was born in Cleveland, Ohio on October 11, 1955. Our family lived in Boulder, Colorado until 1963, when we moved to Del Mar, California. The ocean became my way of life and surfing became my religion. We had a creative home environment to grow up in that found my mom playing the piano and pulling off the most wicked version of "Frankie and Johnny" you've ever heard. She'd cart us kids to music lessons, let us have long hair, and allow us to stay out in the surf beyond sunset. Tolerant and loving. Sister Terry became a world class dancer and choreographer, brother Tripp, a wonderful saxophonist, and our father Hall is a drummer second only to Philly Joe Jones.

I started playing guitar when I was twelve. Music was a great soundscore to my salt-water reality. The Beatles "Revolver" album accented our summer of La Jolla Shores, Hendrix shook the resin fumed Basement Surfboard factory, (located in our Del Mar house's basement, what fire hazard?), and Crosby, Stills, and Nash's "Suite Judy Blue Eyes" filled the air on our porch as the first puffs of a September Santa Ana wind began their journey from the desert to the ocean. From underneath the pacific the magic and music of the Sixties was coming in loud and clear…

I strongly encourage you to read the rest of Peter’s  story, of how he came to study  with Pat Metheny,  share the stage with Chic Corea and hundreds of others, astound  jazz critic Leonard Feather, publish books of meticulous transcriptions of Charlie Parker, McCoy Tyner, Sonny Rollins, Chic Corea, and open a recording studio.  AND be a father...and still find time to be one of the best surfers in San Diego. 

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