What inspired you to be an entertainer/musician? You know I - TopicsExpress



          

What inspired you to be an entertainer/musician? You know I have no idea. There was always music in our house. Music of all kinds. Pop, light rock, and country from my Mom. Jazz and classical from my Father... but all of my early experiences trying to make music were either horrible or just blah... heres the short version of my early experiences.... In 2nd grade I wrote a song. Just some lyrics but I thought they were quite clever. I had a crush on a girl named Susan Cherry. I had written about Cherry Blossoms being beautiful.... (dont remember anything else about it) took it to school to show to my music teacher. She was a silver bouffant haired woman with angry lips and that kind of lyrical voice that sounded like it should be nice.. but wasnt. She called it awful and silly. No lie. Said it straight up, with a smile and then just walked away. for a second I was really hurt but I recovered almost immediately and decided she was just wrong... and mean. I wrote more but I never showed them to anyone again. I wouldnt show any lyrics to anyone again until I was 15. Flash forward and Im in 4th grade living in Germany with my home situation rapidly falling apart. I had seen Grease the summer before hand and knew every word. I had my first boom box and it is my constant companion... I have tapes... I make tapes... I want to sing.. I want to make music... I have no outlet... school starts and music is my favorite class... the teacher is young and blonde and pretty and it is the class I wait for all week... For reasons I cannot recall a group of classmates locked me in a closet in our classroom while the teacher had stepped out . It was one of those IKEA style things. I kicked the door off the hinges just as the teacher returned. Somehow I am the one in trouble. My punishment... not getting to go to music class where we were told we could hold and try out instruments in anticipation of joining the orchestra the next year. Something I had desperately wanted to do. My father moves out and on my visits to the base I am handed off to one of his troops. The guy was young, had no kids and no idea what to do with one... took me to the rec center where you could rent time in little practice rooms with instruments in them.. and left me there. I spend my time here.. playing on drums... touch my first electric guitar... and Im about as happy as can be... til they find me... This area is not for dependents. Arent you the Chiefs kid? Back to the clinic I get to watch him stitch hands.. YAY me. Flash forward a year and weve moved back to the states. Im the new kid, crazy poor, learning to navigate as a child of divorce and I sign up for Orchestra.. gonna play the violin... and Im pretty good.. first chair (as if that means anything in 5th grade)... comes time for kids to be selected for the equivalent of All-county... and Im told I cant audition. No further explanation given. Still no idea why. I ask for and get a guitar for Christmas from my Grandmother. Sign up for lessons and the long haired hippie guitar teacher insists on teaching Camptown Races from the Hal Leonard series... his little basement practice room is 900 degrees and he is absent after 5min of instructions.. lasted for a month.. Then I taught myself the bass line for Another One Bites the Dust and quit... within a week the front of the guitar pulls away from the body under the tension over tuned strings. we move twice.. in two years... I am never told there is a choir in the school I attended in 7th grade..(side note.. I am allowed to participate in a special project because I am in advanced English HELL.. Its a radio drama.. I choose The Phantom one I had heard on Armed forces radio many times... I direct and play the lead my teacher tells me she thinks I have real talent.. first non-affiliated encouragement I remember) and there are no boys AT ALL in the choir in 8th grade. The idea is never entertained. There is no band. Despite having one of the biggest Heart posters I have ever seen and being a dead ringer for Kenny Loggins my music teacher is uninspiring. In fact music class is boring... despite my best efforts. So I am ecstatic as I sign up to take Choir, Band(no training on any instrument beyond two years of violin two years prior) , and Acting my Freshman year... Im digging Rap music and Im not a terrible pop & lock dancer.. Thriller is out MTV is huge... music is becoming more and more important to me.. I live with my radio... I am writing lyrics almost daily... I spend an inspiring yet emotional summer in Europe... things are good for me.. I come home to find out were not staying.. I have two days to say goodbye to the friends I hadnt seen all summer while away.. we move 1 month before school is to begin. To Phoenix, NY.. yeah.. Thats what I said... where? My transcript doesnt catch me before school starts and because classes are chosen in 8th grade I am assigned a generic schedule.. I was eating lunch alone one day when I was asked by Karen Black if Id like to sit with her and her sister and some friends at their table... I met Glen Merrill that day. I met Valeri Roscoe that day. I was encouraged to join the chorus.. skipped my next class to go to the guidance office and... well.. it gets kind of involved from there...but I was in.... I had started... and Ive never stopped since. I wasnt so much inspired as I persevered. The universe did its damnedest to discourage me.. but I wouldnt ignore the music in my head.. I wouldnt stop... I would be what I knew I should be somewhere inside me. I wasnt so much inspired to be an entertainer... a musician... I just am one.
Posted on: Thu, 20 Nov 2014 03:40:01 +0000

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