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Portrait of David Baron

David Baron

About David Baron

San Francisco, CA

Hey stranger.

I'm David. Welcome to my OurStage site. Glad you could make it. Please, make yourself at home.

We probably have a lot in common, you and me.

I grew up in a small town in South Florida called Plantation, about 15 minutes from the beach. It was mostly dirtroads when I was younger, but now it's home to what I believe is the biggest outlet mall in America. Not so great if you like horseback riding, but pretty fantastic if you like The Cheesecake Factory.

My brothers are 10 and 12 years older than me, so it's pretty clear that I was an accident. My mom prefers the term "miracle," and I must admit it has nicer ring to it than "mistake." By the time I busted out, my folks thought they were done raising kids, so I was given the kind of freedoms enjoyed only by the youngest in the family. My brothers still burn with envy over my lack of a curfew.

Not that I gave my parents much reason to worry. Let's face it, I was a pretty harmless kid—no drugs, random girls, or late-nights spent binge drinking (I had to wait until college for that). Even my one act of rebellion—dedicating a life to music—manifested itself in the most innocuous way imaginable. I could have been the tattooed punk rocker with a penchant for face piercing and tapered jeans; instead, I became the chubby piano-player who starred in all the high school musicals.

But then, for me, the music was always enough. It was never a choice, like should I wear jeans or cords (both), go to school in the northeast or out west (west), vote Democrat or Republican (...Democrat, of course). Playing piano was the release, the only way I knew how to say what I needed to say when I couldn't find the words. I was the kid who came home from school to sit at my parents' baby grand for hours at a time, transcribing Dave Matthews riffs before trying amateur variations on Chopin's Waltz in C-sharp Minor. I was in awe of how simple padded hammers colliding with steel strings could make you feel like nothing else mattered; that it was only you and your fingers and the ivory in the darkness.

If you want to know a little more about me, check out the blog section at Be sure to leave a comment so I can get to know you too.


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Portrait of David Baron
David Baron