Based on the questionable memories of Stanley Leroy Erhart...

Early '50s: Born in a KC, Missouri hospital one rainy icy night in February because the Kansas hospitals were too full to admit Mom (evidently Mom was not exhibiting urgency signs). I began the growing process with two parents and three brothers in a small un-insulated home on a farm outside Kansas City, KS. The family super 8 movies indicate that snakes considered our porch to be within bounds, which of course excited the dogs to no end. There are other movies of extended family and friends shearing sheep, chopping Christmas trees, playing ball, attending church, and driving big cars and trucks. The camera was stolen by the time my memory was in working order, but there was apparently a lot going on when I arrived. Though I didn't know it at the time, it wasn't a bad place to be.

Mid '50s: The Erhart clan moved one mile east to a one bedroom home resplendent with outhouse and cistern. Dad continued farming the ground owned by our former landlady ("Old Lady Foster" as we affectionately called her). That house was subsequently enlarged several times and eventually yielded running water and an indoor bathroom, although it was many years before running water was piped in by the county. Regular trips with a wagon and water tank were made to nearby springs to keep the cistern operational.

Early '60s: At age 12 or thereabouts, I began lessons on the baritone horn (I wanted to play a trumpet, but we already owned the baritone). I sounded horrible. Dad one evening said I played something that sounded like music, but I'm sure he was being generous. During those interesting years, I was loaned a guitar for a short time and went through a couple of Mel Bay books. I loved the look of Mel's Gibson guitar that was used for chord illustrations.

Footnote: Dad wooed Mom by getting stuck in a mud puddle and playing harmonica to her. This happened in front of her family's farm house and he was invited to stay the night by her brothers. Considering the innocent times they lived in, I found this story odd. Nevertheless, I tend to believe it. I grew up hearing Dad play "Red River Valley", "Buffalo Gals" and other folk songs on his "harp", and he was good. Mom played violin in high school, but didn't retain an instrument I could ever find.

Late '60s: During my senior year in high school I fought with the band director over boring material, or something equally inane, and quit the high school band. Being a teenager, I lost interest in music while dating, working, and driving '60s muscle cars. My first car was a '64 Olds Cutlass with a 330 V8, 4 barrel carb, bucket seats and a Muncie 4 speed. To my surprise, Dad generously helped me buy it. Our family loved Oldsmobiles and Buicks.

Early '70s: I enrolled at the local community college and joined the college band playing baritone horn again. I soon switched from an accounting/math focus to an art major because people in the art department were more fun. I still think that was a good reason. One evening, I surprised myself and everyone else at a party by playing a few notes on a borrowed flute. With my next tax return, I bought a pawn shop Artley flute and learned the intro to "Stairway to Heaven". Wow, pretty cool. Then I saw Jethro Tull's "Thick as a Brick" concert and realized you needed to do more than blow a few notes. Soon, four of us were renting a run-down house so we could "get the band together". We even practiced sometimes, much to the annoyance of our neighbors. Further inspiration arrived in the form of friends who actually had talent and I started taking saxophone and theory lessons from a local teacher.

Mid '70s: I decided to go back to school, applied at a small university in Michigan, and was accepted as a flute major in the K-12 Music Ed program. The department was heavily into classical music, which was not a bad thing, though intimidating. I did well in theory and tried to catch up in sight reading and performance. The word "Jury" took on a new meaning. I developed a fondness for the music building with all its pianos and pipe organs. Even to walk by it was cool with all the dissonance roaring from it as people practiced their arses off. It practically vibrated. Saturday nights I sang and played acoustic guitar in the college coffee shop and found myself on the prowl for gigs and musical situations at all times. I still am. After a couple of years, a turning point was reached when I ran into like minded students. Scott Newton and Steve Brandwein, two dorm-bound students from Chicago, decided my off campus rental was a good place to hang out and write and practice. By my senior recital and graduation a couple of years later, we were playing gigs in Chicago clubs such as the Night Gallery and Point East, as well as local clubs like Fat Wally's in South Bend, Indiana. We played a cold but fun keg party at Saint Mary's College, yacked our way through some college radio station interviews, and received FM radio air play for our originals. We had a great time.

Early '80s: The band was now a six piece and included Rick Kress on drums (the son of jazz guitarist Carl Kress), plus Steve Haraburda and Greg Errandi on guitars. I was dubbed "Miscellaneous Man" as I filled in the holes with keyboards, sax, flute, or guitar and sang and wrote tunes. The Minneapolis based "Good Music Agency" (GMA) liked our demo of original tunes and "Who" and "Yes" covers and booked us on a Midwestern club tour. At the last minute, our recently married bassist stayed behind and we began the trip passing around bass duties. Everything sounded wrong and lacked punch, so we ended the tour early even though our agency was behind us and promised a busy schedule as we tightened up. We landed in the western Chicago 'burbs licking wounds and seeking happiness in local gigs. I managed to build steady work as a guitar and wind instrument teacher and enjoyed various band incarnations with Burda, Scott & Greg. By accident, I was asked to join a popular local band "Risk!" as a utility man (another way to say "miscellaneous!"). We recorded "Baby When Your Love Comes Down" for the "Chicago Class of '85" album, a tune written by our guitarist, Jimi Kidd.

Footnote: During the several years I played with Jimi Kidd, I didn't know he was uncle and sometimes mentor to Paul Gilbert, probably because this was before anyone knew who Paul Gilbert was. In the late '80s, Paul co-founded the heavy pop group Mr. Big along with Billy Sheehan after Paul left Racer X and Billy left the David Lee Roth Band. Paul Gilbert toured as part of Joe Satriani's 2007 G3 Tour (G307).

Mid '80s: I successfully eloped with my sweetheart despite having problems finding the courthouse. We soon quit sharing a house "with the guys" and lived for a year in Hillsdale, IL before relocating to San Mateo, CA in 1986 (my wife was raised in Mountain View and California has a strong pull on its natives). I met and became friends with more fine musicians, many of whom are still in the area. I continued to give music lessons and joined various bands playing in and around San Francisco. I got kicked out of one reasonably good situation and began thinking of forming my own band so I could avoid that problem again.

Early '90s: As a singer/guitarist this time, I helped form Redwood City based "Fat Chance". We practiced in a photo shop in Redwood City, a block from the court house, and played regularly on the peninsula and coastside. There was a lot of cooperation between everyone in the band and it gave me an opportunity to try new things and find new few strengths.

Mid '90s: My marriage ended and I moved to San Francisco to be in a centralized location. I formed the trio "Hack Bondo" and started booking gigs, playing several gigs a month immediately. I followed the example of several mentors and band leaders and hired subs when necessary. We went into Mr. Toad's Studio in San Francisco and recorded a CD of rocked up blues tunes and distributed it to local Tower Records stores. The Bit of Rhythm in Millbrae needed a new jam host, so I hosted that for the next year and met more excellent musicians, some of whom have become very busy musically. And despite forgetting to duck (or because of it) when an ash tray flew into my forehead one evening, I came out of that year a little wiser.

Late '90s: The original "Hack Bondo" members drifted away for other projects and I changed the band name to "Stan Erhart & Hack Bondo" and printed new cards (gotta print cards). I met Michael Warren who has since played bass with me on hundreds of gigs. The song list became focused on Blues, R&B and Jazz. I found new and better venues to play and I started having more fun.

The '00s: Despite my initial lack of interest (remember the ash tray?), I became the sub host for the Old Princeton Landing Thursday night blues/rock jam. After a couple of years of ups and downs, it was handed to me to build or let die, at which point I dubbed it a "Pro Blues Jam" and business picked up. In January, 2006, Bob Wynkoop and I decided to move it to Sundays and it came to life. It has since become one of my favorite things to do as I see and hear friends and new ideas from week to week. My schedule is steady and I'd like to roll forever. It's too bad we grow old. There are lots of great people to know.