I was raised in a upper-middle class family. The money came from my fathers' side, earned by Jerome - my tough, courageous grandfather. Beauty, street-smarts and determination were my mothers contribution - she came from the mean back alleys of Mexico.
Through chance, while on honeymoon in France, my parents met a spanish gypsy family.
Accepting the invitation to join them in Granada, they ended up staying 6 months and learned the rudiments of flamenco. From that unexpected diversion came a long, successful career . . . and a path for their soon to arrive son, me.
I'm not a spanish gypsy and have never lived in Spain. I'm chicano - Mexican/American - but my life has been shaped by flamenco. I started learning guitar when I was two and joined my parents nightclub act when I was four. My parents were popular, knew all the top agents, managers, etc. - so I was on track for solo musical success from an early age. What happened? Blame it on the Beatles.
The youth explosion of the '60's took my parents carefully nurtured plans for me and threw them out the window. There are times I feel like weeping for what might have been but what's the point? I joined the rock 'n roll rebellion with all my heart and I'm still paying the dues.