Who am I anyway?

Well, it seems like it was just yesterday that the band and I were rehearsing for our first world tour. Sure, we had our own complications back then; confusion with other, already popular recording artists, music lessons that didn't seem to pay off and credit card debt that seemed insurmountable. All said, we had high hopes of a world tour and the opportunity to connect with our fans and their sisters. Then, 2 weeks before the kick-off in Branson, Missouri, we got the shattering news that we had been dropped from the record company and that all tour dates were cancelled. The band and I were devastated. Suffice to say, everyone went their separate ways, some back to rehab, others like myself, took refuge in the anonymity and the bustle of Tijuana. I spent nearly 15 years as a resident of the Hotel Palacio Azteca. Playing nightly shows to pay for room and board, I also found time to help with the cooking. Apart from my musical and culinary activities were the women of Tijuana. I only married a few. Gems, I must say. They too dropped me as did my record company some years back. By then all seemed hopeless, that is, until 2008. It was a Sunday morning. The usual police patrols were out handling the post Saturday night trauma and I was sleeping off the remains of the ritual hangover. Yes, on my AM radio, I heard the call. The song sang to me. It was written for me. I don't recall the name of the song, but I knew it was mine. That morning I packed my bag, turned off the radio and stepped out onto Blvd Agua Caliente. I looked around for the very last time before catching a cab to the airport. I've never looked back and now, only see the future. This is my story.