It’s two o’clock in the morning and I’m sitting at my kitchen table here in Paris, holding a big pair of brass scissors in my hand, while on the table in front of me is a sheet of sandpaper-like skateboard grip and a pile of large thin triangular guitar picks. Each pick has my name and the logo from my Soul Surfing album imprinted on them. I started ordering these personalized picks years ago so I could have just the right size and thickness I like. I’m one of the few guitarists I know of who likes to play with thin picks with the exception of Kurt Cobain, who I once tried to contact in Rome when he was in the hospital and I was playing nearby. I’m not sure what I would have said to him if I got through; probably something about stop the drugs and stick to the music and it probably would have been a futile effort. It seems we each have our own destiny to fulfill and I guess Kurt, in Brian Jones fashion, had to go down a very talented and sad road. Maybe if I would have told him we like the same kind of picks we would have bonded and got an expresso together in Piazza Navonna …