The Beard and the Bird: Jon and Cat Curry Hasz

Between Intention and Serendipity: The Art of Following the Catch

Jon and Cathryn Curry Hasz. Photo by John Hancock.

To say that Jon and Cat Hazs of the Beard and the Bird are two peas in a pod wouldn’t be entirely accurate. They can’t be confined that way. They are more like the multiple and varied notes of a wind chime, bouncing back and forth in a composition that is both intricate and unpredictable. The song would be incomplete without either of them… and it would be pretty darn boring.

Jon is rapid-fire and always on, whitewater rushing forward. Cat is pensive and calm, a gentle creek flowing into shadows and hollows, then back out into the sun. They happily finish and embellish each other’s sentences without batting an eye or taking a breath. It’s symbiotic. My attention is drawn in continuous motion from one to the other and then back again, almost rhythmically, like a song, one of their songs.

Jon and Cat both grew up in Ramona—she’s a native, he’s a transplant from Arizona at age four. By the time they were in high school, they lived on the same street and went to the same school.

They didn’t actually meet, though, until Jon was working his first job at a music store and Cat went in to replace a broken guitar string. Though her parents listened to the Beatles, the Eagles, and Dire Straits, Cat had veered into an entirely different scene. At the time, she was the lead singer in a punk band called the McGillicuttys.

“Which means,” Cat shares, “that I knew three power chords—very poorly. All I needed was misplaced confidence and a loud singing voice.”

Jon interjects, “And a little bit of angst, I think.”

Cat replies, “Oh, a lot of angst. And listening to the Misfits, Screeching Weasel, the Queers, and the Addicts on repeat.”

Jon went a slightly different route. “We had a good punk scene here. I went through Metallica. Like, as I’m learning guitar, I have to just fall in love with all the standard stuff—Lynyrd Skynyrd, whatever. You know, learn those guitar parts. And then I ended up doing punk in high school, and my first thing was getting into kind of more the skate punk kind of stuff—Strung Out—played that and then went into metal again. Did Tool and some of the heavier stuff.”

Still, that shared love of punk gave them instant common ground. That first meeting through music was the beginning of a closeness they shared as best friends. Over the next six years, they spent time together on non-dates eating burritos, going rock climbing, complaining about their significant others, and having punk jams.

For whatever reason, Cat hung up her guitar for a while, but for Jon, music “was everything to me for, you know, my whole life.” He had gone first from playing guitar in fourth grade, to joining his first band in sixth grade, to working in the music store in high school. It does seem like all he has ever known and done is music. And to top it off, at 21 years old, after three years at the store, he got the opportunity to buy it, which he has now had for 18 years. They just recently moved Ramona Music Center from its original location to 555 Main Street in Ramona. “I’ve been teaching, playing, and running our recording studio since 2007.” That is some clear intention in my book.

Going back to their non-dating days, eventually, they each developed crushes on one another. A mix of failed relationships and a mistakenly placed kiss set the stage for a leap into coupledom. On a non-date at the Ramona holiday pub crawl, Cat remembers, “Well, he was trying to kiss my cheek, and I turned my face.” Jon says, “That changed everything.”

For a moment, they feared losing their friendship and the depth of their connection, but quickly decided it was worth the risk. They already knew so much about each other, there were no skeletons in the closet, and no reason to wait. Within a month, they had moved in together “and got cats, which is, like, that’s permanent.” Cat continues, “The funny thing is, probably three or four months before the pub crawl, we were in Poway getting beers and tacos and stuff. And I was in a terrible relationship that had just ended. And we were like, if we’re not married this time next year, we should get married. And then we start dating and we’re, like, we only have nine months. So, three years later we ended up getting married [in 2014] on the day that we had made the pact to get married.”Jon’s proposal was written in the bridge of one of his songs. At the time, Cathryn Beeks had a show on KPRI, so he met with her and Jeff Berkley at the studio to record the whole thing to be aired two days later. On the evening it would broadcast, Jon and Cat went to see Lord of the Rings, which he now admits was the worst possible movie to choose under the circumstances. Already nervous, he remembers staring at the ring on the screen and thinking the one he had “was burning a hole in my pocket.” On the drive home, the song and proposal played nationwide, reaching friends and family across the country, who began calling them to celebrate.

When they told me about the wedding, I found out that Cat is a bit of an introvert. I tell her it doesn’t show, and Jon says, “Not even a little bit, right? She’s very well curated.” To adjust for nerves and anxiety, they had a very small pre-wedding and took care of the legalities and paperwork. A couple of weeks later, after building picnic tables and redoing the backyard for the occasion, they had a big wedding there with everyone in attendance.

That’s a nice story, but I’m still thinking about Cat, and I ask her how she ended up a performer. “Do you remember in San Diego in around 2011, the big blackout that happened? Jon came home that day with the bass and he was, like, you’re going to learn this. And I was, like, what?” She laughs, then continues, “So, luckily, I lived with a music teacher, but it sat in the corner for years.”

Jon says, “You’d pull it out every once in a while.”

Cat nodded and said she had gotten good at playing Jingle Bells, when, three-and-a-half years ago, he came home and said, “All right, babe, don’t kill me, but I booked us a show at an Earth Day Festival.” When she reminded him of her single-song repertoire, he said, “You’re going to have to learn more.”

That was the beginning.

Cat said, “That one went so well that Jon completely lost his mind…”

Already rolling, Jon said, “…and I booked a bunch more. I think even at that one, I had two more lined up afterward.”

Cat continues, “It was nuts. So then, yeah, all of a sudden we were in a band, and we toured internationally.”

Jon speaks glowingly, “She has no idea how good she is. Like, she’s still one of my best students of all time, right? And so, yeah, it was never really on our radar, but I’m like, you’re so talented, how can you not put this at the front of the list? She’s got a lot of talent.”

I ask her, “Do you love it? Do you love playing bass, or are you still nervous?”

She said, “Well, both. I love it, but I’m also still nervous, I guess. But, I’m definitely in a place now where I don’t panic as much as I did before shows. But there are also moments, like when we went to the Folk Alliance Festival in February, and I’m surrounded by these people that are just shredding. And I’m, like, immediately, I need to get so much better if we’re ever gonna hang in this group, you know?”

I watched a couple of the Beard and the Bird music videos before the interview and Cat is chewing gum with abandon, smiling broadly, and slapping on that bass like she’s been playing forever. I’m curious about that anxiety she mentioned earlier.

She reveals that chewing gum has become her reminder to relax, to smile more. But even still, “You can tell in other ways; I start picking off nail polish and talking fast and being awkward. But yeah, I mask it well…”

Jon jumps in, “…visually, but also, like, the stuff she writes is amazing and funny and perfect, but it’s all calculated. She gets very nervous about anything where it’s live.”

Cat nods. “Yes, and then I go home and sit in the dark for a while to recharge my batteries.”

Jon adds, almost apologetically, “Which is a lot—for me to ask for her to get on stage in front of people every month, all over the country. You know?”

Cat shifts the focus to Jon, “I don’t know if you know this about him, but he’s the world’s biggest extrovert on the planet, and he never runs out of energy that I’ve ever seen. So, polar opposites…”

Jon adds, “…opposites really do attract. But it’s good. I really wanna have some kind of album art for our upcoming release where I’m the balloon and she’s holding me. It’s perfect. I lift her up. I can, you know, keep her out of going too deep and then, she keeps me grounded. I love it.”

Cat shifts again, “He can play any instrument very well, and I feel like I’m hanging on for dear life. I’m really good at buying instruments, I’m not very good at learning them.”

Jon says, “That’s a bad combo when your husband owns a music store too…”

Cat laughs and says, “…because what did I get for my birthday? A pocket trumpet!” She continues, whining just a little, “It’s so hard. Like, I don’t know why I keep thinking that with one of these, I’m gonna just be a prodigy, and all of a sudden…”

Jon agrees, “…you’re like sword in the stone. She just pulls out the instrument and all of a sudden, ta-da! Like, this is the chosen one.”

They list her collection. She has Irish bagpipes, a banjo, guitar, multiple basses, fiddles, piano, and as terrible as she may be at playing most of them, she says, “I love learning, and I love challenges and pushing myself and beating myself up when I do it wrong.”

Reassuringly, Jon says, “But she’s good. She’s got great timing. And it just seems like when I brought the bass home, I was like, okay, I feel like this is the right instrument.”

I’d have to agree.

Jon and Cat with Dan Chusid at the 2025 San Diego Music Awards.

It turns out Jon and I share the same muse for writing: being alone in a car for hours on the open road, but he didn’t know it until recently. “I wrote horrible songs in sixth grade,” he confesses, then reveals, “The funny thing is, I didn’t write songs for a long time. Our house is ten minutes from the music store. So, for 16 years, I drove just ten minutes, and I never had enough time. So, there’s ten years where I didn’t write a single song, and then, all of a sudden, we started doing these trips up the East Coast, where you have these big, long, beautiful drives, and it just started pouring out. I realized that’s the key for me, to be alone in the car—no music—and just let my mind wander.”

Cat wrote a few songs in high school but set it aside and didn’t return to songwriting until they started the band. Writing together has proven complicated but doable. “We’re both very picky in our own lanes, you know? So that’s been a whole challenge in itself, learning to write songs without filing for divorce.”

Jon agrees, “It’s a hard thing if you haven’t worked together. And we both have a vested interest in our writing styles, and so, we’ll fight over the use of one word. You know? And the order of the word, you know? But we’re getting better.”

They are especially proud of not having killed each other while writing their song “Take the 219” during a recent road trip on the East Coast.

Cat has learned that it’s better not to approach Jon with a completed song. “It’s better if we kind of piecemeal it together because then I’m not emotionally attached to what I’ve already created. So, we’re just kinda learning hacks like that.”

They admit that creating music together has added a layer of complexity to their marriage. Jon explains, “I just think that there’s so many benefits to it. I mean, it’s opened up a new level of communication. Like, we had a hard time working together on anything, really. Right?”

Cat laughs and says sarcastically, “I’m a delight. I’m so easy to work with.”

Equally sarcastic, Jon agrees, “You are a delight. You’re a total delight.” Then continues, “We’re both very passionate people, and so we had our lanes, and we knew our lanes, we were comfortable with that. And this has forced us to find some new space in between, and I’m really proud, because I love that space. That’s been really cool, but of course that’s hard, and that you’re in a band with the most important other person in your life, and so there’s a lot to balance. But the plusses are that I get to travel around, and I’m crazy busy. Now I get extra time with her, which is amazing.”

They both recognize the arrangement can be challenging, but they’re up for it. For Cat, there is a sense of safety and security with Jon. His years of musical experience—wearing many different hats, from performing live to recording to writing and producing—means, “Anytime we get stuck somewhere, Jon has already sort of experienced it and has insight to it, which makes it a lot easier than stumbling around in the dark together.”

With a blend of intuition and intention, he curated the exact band he wanted. He taught his bassist how to play and to sing; he also taught her how to read music, which “she does very well,” Jon says proudly. “I can literally write a new song in the car and write it down and put it in front of her, and we can play it live. And it’s accurate.”

Cat interjects, “The only thing I can’t do is remember. We’ll be on stage, he’s like, it’s just one four five in E. And I’m like, you taught me that back then, but I don’t know what that means.”

Jon thinks it’s good for both of them, too, because they now share one more huge part of their lives—a common interest they’re both deeply invested in. It’s become part of their identity. He also appreciates having help, especially after years of being a bandleader and managing everything on his own. Now, having someone to collaborate and brainstorm with is refreshing.

I ask them what they like most and least about navigating the world of music. Cat answers right away, “I love recording, because if you do it wrong, you can just do it again. That’s very little pressure to me.”

We all agree that performing live is fairly low pressure too, since people are very in the moment and have a short memory when it comes to mistakes. On the other hand, recording live is the worst way to go. It’s the beauty of recording, but without the safety net of do-overs.

As it turns out, they have an August show at the Mainstage in Ramona where they’ll be doing just that. Jon says, “That is my nightmare. That’s a lot of pressure—so stressful.”

Cat agrees, and Jon continues, “We’re part of the Ramona CD, volume two of it. So, we’ve got a whole new 20 artists, but that’s a lot to navigate. Last time was great, but it took a long time.

“So what we decided was we’re gonna do everyone full band at the Mainstage, record the whole show. I think this is a good creative solution to kind of level the playing field for everyone. Bring your A game, get whatever players you want, and let’s make one heck of a party.

“Plus, we get to sell tickets, which will pay for the CD, and it’s something to bring the whole town together. I’m excited. We’ve been having a lot of fun with the Ramona Music Alliance and everything we’re doing up here. Got a great scene right now up here.”

Oh, don’t I know it!

As great as the scene is in Ramona, Jon and Cat are part of another on the East Coast as well, with a home base in Buffalo. They’ve always traveled a lot, but in 2021, they were stuck at home like everyone else and going a little stir crazy. They ended up finding a 153-year-old Victorian house online and buying it, doing the final walkthrough in VR. They had never been there, and they didn’t know anyone in the area, but it has since become their home base. Cat says, “We didn’t admit to having the house for years because it was unhinged.”

Jon agrees, “It was the craziest thing we’ve ever done. It was insane.” But they got lucky finding an amazing music scene.

For all their touring, they fly into Buffalo, pick up gear they leave there, and then set off for shows on that side of the country. They now split their time between here and there, flying back every month until the weather turns cold.

I ask when the house was built. Cat says, “1870, I think. It’s 3,900 square feet and eightish rooms. We converted one of the potential bedrooms into a studio, and then another one into an arts room. We have a study with floor-to-ceiling library shelves. And when I saw that, I was, like, this is it!”

Jon added, “Especially coming from here where we can barely afford 12 or 1,300 square feet. It’s been really good, beneficial for the scene out here too. The Buffalo Music Alliance invited me to a meeting, and the next day I got on a plane and texted fellow Ramona singer-songwriter Ashley Norton. I was, like, I know exactly what we need to do in our small town. I got the whole model. Let’s do it. And three years later, it’s the best scene we’ve ever had here. If we hadn’t gone to Buffalo, I would have no idea what to do.”

They are now doing about half of their recording in Buffalo, and just recently shot a music video. “I have a bunch of camera gear. I have a YouTube series where I film songwriters we meet on our travels, so I carry around three cameras. This is kind of the time that we’ve turned the camera onto us, which is really hard. So, we’ll see how long it takes me to finish, because it’s a lot—trying to storyboard it, then set it all up, then go play and set it all up.”

This is where I begin to see the mastery of Jon and his ability to envision what he would like to do and then just do it. When I asked him where he learned about making music videos, he said, “I kinda figured it out. There’s good videographers but I haven’t met a lot that have good audio. So, I kinda picked it up, because I just wanted to do it. I saw that all the artists that I love right now that are blowing up, all came from YouTube series. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to do one more. And then it’s been a good excuse for us to meet people in other states.”

Indeed, they’ve met people in New Orleans, western New York, and then in Vancouver, Montreal, and Australia. Jon is talking fast. “It’s just been a great excuse to run around, meet new people, meet new songwriters. And then, you know, I get to geek out on some of my favorite songs I’ve ever heard with people all over the country.”

Cat adds, “And then they all trade gigs too. Like Jon meets people in these different areas and they’re like, hey, we got this one. Do you want this? Oh, come to Buffalo. Come to San Diego. So again, just networking like crazy.”

Jon continues, “And we met a bunch of musicians. And so next time we come through, we’ll be able to do some shows.”

Jon & Cat with Tony Econom

I ask them about their dreams. Jon says his parents taught him to dream big, and then he says something that hit me so profoundly, it keeps playing over and over in my head. He says, “For me, it was always about casting ten lines and then just running in the direction that has a bite, rather than focusing on the one line that didn’t catch anything.” My gosh, that’s so simple, yet big. He finishes, “I might not have everything that I’ve wanted to have, but I have everything I need, and I think staying thankful for things, too—that’s huge. So, putting things in perspective is always good.”

I already know that Cat’s a realist, which means there are probably plenty of unattainable dreams. But for now, she says, “Well, for the happiness side, I think I’m happy as long as I’m managing the anxiety and stress, right? I do a lot of exercise and try to make healthy choices and read a lot of fantasy books just to detach—escapism. I feel like my brain has become a lot more rigorous, where I have a list of things that I need to achieve to feel happy or feel accomplished, which I’m trying to move away from a bit and that is hard.”

Jon adds, “I don’t think anything’s unattainable. I’ve never been the person to try to force stuff. I’ve always been the person that’s, like, what does success mean? Right? Like we all have concepts. I mean, I think that’s one of those things, like, so I’ve taught music now for eighteen years, and it’s been an eye opener.

“I’ll teach guitar to the CEO who just sold his huge company, or I remember I taught a captain that had just retired, and he came to me and said, ‘I just wasted 20 years of my life.’

“I’ve had people of multiple levels say that they were jealous of me and my meager income because I got to play music. And so that really made me kind of reevaluate what success is.”

This is a topic they’ve discussed often. They refer to a favorite quote that rings true for them. Author Natalie O’Rourke said, “If you don’t define success, then you’ll never have it.”

Jon is on board, “Because the goal posts always move, right? We watch documentaries about Taylor Swift—you know, she’s arguably one of the biggest songwriters of all time, of our generation right now, at least—and she talks about how miserable she is with deals, or how she always has to be better than her last release, and the pressure of that is just overwhelming.

“And is that success? Being haunted by your success, not appreciating what you’ve done, what you’ve accomplished? That’s not success—at least not to me.”

Cat says, “I’m at risk because of that. What’s next? Like, what’s the next thing we have to achieve? What’s this and this and this? Because I’m very type A. I’m very, like, what’s next on the hit list?

“So, I think, if Jon and I can define what success is before the fact, and I can see, okay, we hit that, that’s awesome. Let’s enjoy this and then move on to the next. So, again, it’s sort of like I’m pushing to be like, we gotta record the next thing. And Jon’s like, we need to enjoy the release that we just did.”

There they are, balancing and supporting each other, and smiling through it with respect.

Support for Jon is what Cat calls “vicious feedback.”

“For me, I’m more looking for critiques from all the people that I look up to,” Jon explains. “That’s what I run on. It’s like, how can I make things better? And what’s the audience’s perspective?”

Cat wants none of that. “Lie to me. Tell me that I was great. Tell Jon what I did wrong, and he can gently tell me later, you know? Like, censor it.”

Jon shrugs, “Oh, I mean, we’re both each other’s biggest fan, so that makes it good. And, you know, we try to be honest, and that part of it makes it difficult—to go back to the original question about being married to your bandmate, right? It’s like if we have to have hard conversations, it doesn’t just apply to the band.”

Cat shoots back with a smile, “I don’t want feedback right now. I need a husband, not a bandmate.”

When asked what they want people to remember about them, Cat answers first. “I want people to have fun when they’re watching us play. Like, to know that we’re having fun and get people dancing. I guess I just want them to remember that they felt good while they were experiencing it.”

“I want people to be inspired,” Jon offers. “Either inspired to do their own thing, inspired to get up and dance, inspired to pay attention to art more, inspired to support art more, and inspired to think.

“You know, I think that’s one of the reasons that I really connected with the first song that we put out called “Dust If You Must.” The whole concept is like: go out, dust if you must, but wouldn’t it be better to bake a cake or write a letter?

“And I just love that—like, the call to live your life. Just trying to get people to think, to connect to each other a little bit more. So just inspire in different ways.”

The Beard and the Bird are a joy to listen to and to watch. Their energy is infectious, their harmonies silken, and their arrangements light and full of spunk.

I am most definitely inspired.

Everything they have is available on all the usual streaming platforms.

Links you’re going to want to visit.
• The Beard and the Bird, YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@thebeardandthebird
• The Beard and the Bird Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/artist/13INtcQuy7gvOitfpwHlJP?si=mBRM_anVSh6f_zvI4rreTg
• Traveling Through Live, YouTube:  https://www.youtube.com/@travelingthroughlive