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He taught in a music store in a strip mall near my place and I had just signed up for a block of lessons. His big, long, permed hair practically filled the room. Mr. Perm held an 80’s coloured Ibanez and it was obvious this teacher was into hair metal bands with flashy, fast guitar playing.
He made his introductions, played a bit and then asked me to play something . . .
So I grabbed my classy tobacco sunburst Paul Reed Smith. Mr. Perm was probably thinking I was one of those annoying spoiled kids from the ‘burbs with a nice guitar.
“Cool, man! Let me give you a scale to work on,” Mr. Perm said.