Jimi James

Some people are destined for greatness. I am destined for greatness, and someday I’m going to be the greatest guitarist of all time. If only I could convince my father to buy me one. It’s not that I haven’t tried asking. I ask, I ask, I ask, I ask and I ask. All he has to say is no. Our family has been tight on money ever since my mother died. I didn’t really know my mother all that well, but she was an angel. She used to send me up to Canada during the summer to spend time with my grandma. My grandmother was a full-blooded Cherokee Indian. She also had a guitar that she used to let me play. I would spend hours playing. The hours seemed to fly by like they were minutes. I had so much fun, but every good thing must come to an end. There would have to be that time that I had to go back to Seattle–guitar-less. I wanted a guitar so bad that I used to make one out of the broom we had in the kitchen. My father used to get real pissed off at me for doing that. I became so desperate for a guitar that I tried to steal one. I was caught. They locked me up in jail for over a week. I tried to get my father to get me out, but he was tied up playing a very intense poker game. He was trying to raise the money needed to bail me out. I was eventually bailed out, and I made my father angry at me. I realized that I was just too old to be living at home with my father. He needs his privacy, and I need a job. How else am I going to buy that guitar that I have always wanted. I decided to join the Army. I just turned 18 years old. I didn’t really have a choice though. If I didn’t sign up I would have been drafted. Too many of my friends have died in Vietnam, but not me. I’m not gonna die. I’m gonna jump out of airplanes, and I’m gonna make enough money to buy me twenty-five guitars. I’m gonna be the greatest guitar player in History. My name is Jimi James, and pretty soon you will know the rest of my story.