More than likely because I never did like talking about myself.  Awards, accolades, praise, comments, ahh the parade around the art that I was always somewhat defiant about.  My dream was born in a basement.  Not a furnished rehabbed basement with a plasma screen TV and an Xbox, but a cold drippy under-lit dungeon of sorts where one builds on a foundation of isolation and practicing, maybe to someday move “upstairs.”  

These were the days of “Rocky” cinema, where the idea was that accepting the harshness of enduring long hours of training was the way to win the match (choose your metaphorical path).   And remember, Luke learned the ways of the force in swamp, and not in a formalized school.  You endure, right?

The entertainment world had it’s pollution of over-promised talent (fictitious marketing), false starts and quick endings to bright careers.  I never wanted any of it.  I wanted (and still do) to make art.  Music that made peoples lives better.  

And so began a quest that included the guitar, the voice, and the song.  Write a better one.  Then play and sing it better.  Despite the shaky self managing and the constant disappointments of learning by failing, saying the wrong the thing at the wrong time, trying out the already failed strategy, I learned to consistently pick myself up over and over again.   Perhaps the real thrill of the music world for people like me is: packing all your gear into your car at 2:30am at a roadhouse bar where the patrons seem to only care about you playing “freebird” and can’t be bothered from their dart games to hear a song that you wrote, and after being paid $50 you set out on your 2 hour car ride home.  Of course you then you blow $10 of it on 3 day old gas station food because your stomach won’t leave you alone. 

You endure.  You press on.  Sometimes it’s easy to forget why.  And you keep practicing.  You keep writing.  You keep moving.   

I was asked to “fill in” for both the singer and guitar player in an original band. This was particularly challenging because I’d have to do all the singing and all the guitar soloing.

There were a lot of lyrics to memorize. I could have used an iPad but that’s not my way. If you don’t have the words “in you” then they won’t sound very good coming “from you.”

So, there was that. And then there were all the changes in the music. And the intros. And the endings. And the guitar solos. All for just 2 festival gigs.

After learning all 40 songs, and yes it took me awhile, there was one larger more critical component which was playing with, and in this case, leading the band, despite zero rehearsals.

I lost a word here and there and screwed up a melody line somewhere but for the most part I nailed it (that was the language of the band and how they described it to me…”you nailed it”).
I was proud of the work I put in and I’m not telling you this to brag.

Minutes after the 1st show, backstage, the bandleader chastised me on the 2 or 3 little things without mentioning the 95 things that went well (musicians reading this will know that these were things the audience didn’t even hear, alas, still important).

I nodded along with him and amended to get the last 3% of “commanding it” together. The band…actually grew pissed at him and it turned out that I had to defend him to them.
The reason the band is tight is because someone needs to shoot for that unattainable excellence that we never get to right? I felt bad for him but sometimes someone has to be the bad guy. The boss. The headmaster. Whatever. Shoot for perfection all you want.

I was simultaneously disappointed that he was so callous about it and happy to simply shrug it off while feeling bad for him that he couldn’t just be happy with the unjustifiable amount of time that I had put into the material.

So, my answer is yes. It is possible to paradoxically feel both and decided to swim in one direction.

Derek Hayden on percussion, David Moore on drums, Greg Toro on bass and Bobby Bryan on keys.

Concert footage with VoiceOver.

Forgiveness is an open hand
Showing me the things I still don’t understand
In this dream that I had
I was walking
In a new land
You were there with me

I’ve never seen the conflict between the ruling class and the commoners (everyone else) be more transparent than it is right now.   Here in the states, there in Russia, the Middle East, Canada, you name it.   Dutch farmers, China’s financial implosion, and well….Africa.
There’s a worldwide running narrative of the people against their leaders, some of whom are obeying the real elite, the wealthiest international individuals who can’t be held accountable by any system that they manipulate or control.

Still, there’s hope…
In the bloody history of humankind we’ve always had the same sort of problem in the caste system (with individual greed being the real spiritual dilemma) but the renegades and the healers have always risen from anonymity to bring us forward.
When the time comes those leaders will emerge (Martin Luther King’s last speech).

“We going to fly over everything that we see / when no one knows what happens next we’re going to be renegades and healers”

People will step forward. They always have.