Am I really OLD?

WHAT MAKES PEOPLE TICK? …

It was Friday morning, I sat relaxing with my coffee, while thinking of last night’s show that had me out until almost 4:00 am. I smiled as the words of my sweet mother broke my relax when she screamed them to me over the phone, “Juanita, you are just too OLD to be going out late at night like that.” She added, “I am telling you that I insist you STOP that!”  With a huge smile I answered, “Yes, Momma.” Knowing all the while that I am not about to stop. I plan to LIVE my life my way. I am with my grown son, doesn’t my mother understand it is not like I am just hanging out…I am supporting my son and his music and enjoying the show at the same time. If that means occasionally being out really late, so be it. She never got upset about the all night shifts I had as a telephone operator or years later while working in the Emergency Rooms of two local hospitals. I guess it is the fact that I am “OLD” that bothers her. My thought is, it is pretty scary when even your mother calls you OLD!

Tonight’s show was one that I had looked forward to for a few weeks. Eric had played this same location before for an independent music group formed by faculty members and students at his college alma mater. It was great before so I was certain it would be again. The show is held in the back room of a coffee house that is located less than a mile from the university. Those who run it are polite and respectful and the show is a listening room event; my favorite. The room is quite small and holds a cozy crowd that is there to hear the original music being performed by the makers of that music.

My son was the opening act for a man I had not heard before. He was from Indiana but had played many places and he looked like a member of the cast from Duck Dynasty. Because he looked like he would fit right in with those guys, I immediately thought he would be funny and friendly.

The organizers of the show had everything set up to record the event and were quite excited about the evening as well.

The announcer took the stage and thanked everyone for being there, he then told us all of the requirements of this musician that was the star of the show.

First of all he insisted they remove all taping apparatus so there would be no recording, even partially or accidentally, he insisted NO recording would take place. Then he advised upfront that he would not allow any electronic devices to be functioning in the room. We were not allowed to just silence our phones or put them on airplane mode, they had to be completely off. Also no cameras were allowed. This musician did not like his picture being taken and would not tolerate it no matter who was doing the taking of the picture.

Though he was there early (like us), he did not enter the room to hear any of my son’s performance, and would only enter after a proper introduction and once he had an ability to make a grand entrance.

This musician made several negative remarks about our city and the “Shit hole” hotel he was staying in as well. He remarked, “I was in Vegas last night and now I am in the EXOTIC  Mobile, Alabama!” It was the way he said it that bothered me.

Don't misunderstand, he was a very skilled guitarist, a very skilled songwriter and was full of talent. Absolutely a good musician all around.

After the show ended, he sat at a table selling his merchandise and a very nice man snapped a picture as he autographed a CD. He scolded the picture taker and said again, “I do NOT like anyone to take my picture.”

Everyone has their own quirks and ways. We do not always understand them and I am not attempting to figure him out.

I have thought many times about this performer since that night and at the same time hoped there would never come a time when my son would act that way to those who took their time and spent their money to enjoy his presence.

I have not included this gentleman’s name and I will not.  I do think he needs a few hours on a couch while a professional listener sits nearby with a pen and pad taking notes (no recordings of course). Perhaps his story would make a good song?

WHAT MAKES PEOPLE TICK?

NO ANSWER NEEDED

It was a Thursday and I had every minute planned out for the next 20 hours. So my feet scurried a little faster when they hit the floor in an effort to squeeze in everything that awaited me.

Late that afternoon I pulled up to a nice upscale restaurant where my son was booked to play his music for a company party that would commence in 45 minutes. I took a seat and he began setting up his PA system. The staff was courteous and kind. I recognized one of them I have known for years; he is always pleasant and his last name is Love. If I ever changed my name, that is the one I would choose.

This show was laid back and easy. People were relaxed, eating great food and listening to great music. This kind of show has a calming effect and lets a person know how good life can be. Everything was smooth and predictable.

Soon this show was over and Eric was packing up his gear. We got on I-10 headed east to a nearby town called Daphne, Alabama. The next show was a polar opposite of the first. There was no calm, no laid back atmosphere of any kind. Not one minute was smooth or predicatble. It was a typical smoke-filled bar complete with loud noises, pool tables with balls clanging together as they scattered from one end of the table to another and people shouting. There was no let up on the loudness for the entire evening. Sometimes it feels like there is a competition between the performer on the stage who is attempting to entertain and the excited, partying crowd who has their own agenda.

One bright light in the darkness is a handful of true music lovers who sat at or stood around the bar area, often shouting requests for Eric’s songs. Occasionally two or three would head to the large dance floor and half dance, half talk through the songs. There is always one or two in the crowd that want a personal connection to the musician and will walk up and start a conversation in the middle of a song or hold out their fists while waiting for the musician to fist bump them. I don’t believe they realize that requires the musician to stop playing their song, fist bump, then start back where they left off. Years ago it was a high five, now it is the fist bump, tomorrow I don’t know what it will be but I do know they need recognition, validation or attention of some sort. To me they are saying, “I see you on the stage, but I want to be sure you see me as well!”

My son Eric and all of his musician friends face this but they all handle it with grace and charm as they smile, stop, then fist bump and go back to what they were doing. It seems to brighten the day of their fans.

Over the years I have been filled with wonder and questions about human nature and what makes us tick. These questions remain unanswered, as I have come to the realization that there is no answer needed nor is there one required.

All my life there have been questions and answers paired up as though you could not have one without the other to complete it. I know now that a question can stand alone and be just as thought provoking as it would be with an answer.

What makes people tick?  No answer needed.

Beyond my Expectations!

                                                                  BEYOND EXPECTATIONS

My son was a coach for a singing competition. One that will culminate in the winner getting a paid trip to Los Angeles to audition for a singing competition called The Voice. He had to be there a couple of hours before showtime, so I met him there in my own time.

It was a first for me….almost everything about it was a first for me. As many times as I have crossed through the entrance to bars (years and years of attending shows), I had never been scanned by a metal detector as I entered. (I have indeed been scanned at the airport lots of times, but never as I entered a bar.)

The security guy looked so young and he greeted me with a big smile, as he asked me to hold out my arms so that he could scan me. He said, “You look like you could be trouble, so we have to check you,” as he half giggled at his own words. Then he patted me on the back and said, “you are fine ma’am, enjoy your evening.” I was still amazed by the amount of security in this small country bar.

Soon I glanced up and saw an old friend, Matt. He is an awesome guy that has been a local celebrity on the radio for years in Mobile. His job tonight was to emcee, that is what he was born to do. Before Matt arrived I stood there uncertain of what I should do and where I should go, as my son was still tied up with others involved in the competition and the place was very full of anxious, excited music loving people. Matt, said “Hey, Juanita, I always have this little table for two up front that is reserved for me, how about if you join me here!” I happily took him up on that. I took a seat and even though Matt was very busy getting his ducks in a row for the show, he disappeared and returned with a diet coke for me. I have wonderful friends (actually many are my son’s friends that come to know me too and I consider them my friends as well).

The show started right away. There was a panel of four judges, three men and one woman, plus a mentor (which was my son on this particular evening…I understand there is a new mentor each week). This place has a karaoke system set up, and it must be the regular music nightly, with an occasional appearance of live music sprinkled in from time to time. 

The background music for all of the singers was provided by the karaoke machine, and that was something new for me. Live music is what I have become accustomed to over the years.

As in any competition, both the skill levels of the singers and the song choices were diverse.  The natural talent was also varied as some were subpar and others were better, still there were others that were fabulous.  I had to pay close attention to each act because I never knew when I would see and hear something awful or awesome. I remember thinking of the old saying, “you can’t judge a book by its cover,” when one duo looked like they were dressed to go hiking, yet sounded fantastic; yet another could have been stars in Hollywood on the Red Carpet (judging by their appearance), but their singing fell way short of the expectations we had for them.

That night I heard some of the worse singing and some of the very best singing. The ones that were good, were perfect with their harmonies and I could tell they felt the words they were singing. I teared up as I heard one couple sing, “Love can build a Bridge between your heart and mine.” They did their job of convincing me it was real. Their performance was touching and it was what music is supposed to be. Another standout performance was a couple that did the song, “If you see him, If you see her.” The yearning in their voices felt so real and hauntingly lonely that I was moved by the lyrics,  and their voices as they delivered those lyrics.

The panel of judges shared a love for and knowledge of music. One was loud and boisterous. He was to the point with his critiques, no beating around the bush. One spoke haltingly and seemed uncertain of his critiques. The two youngest, (which was one judge and the mentor) were professional musicians and they gave critiques and advice that was insightful and helpful to the performers. The female judge did not hide how she felt, often dropping her head in disbelief when the contestants got off key; yet standing and applauding with great vigor when they were fabulous. There was no gray area for her, you were great or you were not and that was that. It sounded sad, yet sweet as she said, “you were off, you were bad, I am sorry baby but that is how I saw it.” She also had words of praise for those who impressed her.

All of these wonderful people on the panel were volunteering their time to help others attempt to fulfill their dreams and reach for the stars. Music was a part of each of their lives whether it be they were professional musicians, or they sang for a choir for many years; they had the expertise to separate the good from the not so good.

I entered those doors half way expecting to see a train wreck on the stage. I left through those same doors with joy in my heart and after having been entertained beyond expectations for two straight hours. Those on the stage entertained and those on the panel were equally entertaining. How could anyone ask for more in one evening? 

       

A young version of Marilyn Monroe

I was in Daphne, Alabama in a smokey bar at my son's gig on Thursday night, when she sauntered in the door, walking with a sense of confidence that automatically drew your eyes to her. My friend, Jan and I were sitting in the second closest booth to the door, and as Jan told the story of her newest adventure, my eyes caught hold of this girl and did not want to let go.

I felt a deep sadness in her as she got closer, I can’t explain it, but it was there.

It was only a brief distraction, one of many we had that evening. My friend Jan is a pleasant person with a busy, interesting life and I always enjoy our visits at the shows I attend with my son. He was on the stage singing when this girl I described earlier, walked in; I glanced up at him and he did not seem to notice her at all. She had bouncy, curly blonde hair, sort of a Marilyn Monroe look. She wore jeans that had been cutoff so short they no longer covered all the things they needed to. They were so short that her pockets hung down below her shorts. There was a fringe of sorts, that hung down as well, it was the frayed threads from having been cut hurriedly and with a very dull instrument; at least that was my guess. Her top was very short, leaving a space of 8 to 10 inches uncovered at her waistline. She was a beautiful girl, no doubt, but even though she walked with confidence I sensed just the opposite as I watched her that night. I only described her to paint the picture for you, I am in no way attempting to judge her. It is her life to live as she decides, I am only an amused observer.

A couple of hours passed and Eric had begun to play some cover songs that he does not usually sing. This was one of those gigs where the crowd is rowdy with only a handful paying attention to the music. As I watched him play and sing, my thoughts were disrupted by some hooting and hollering in the back near the pool tables. I looked to see this blonde I described as she was standing on a stool and she leaped from that stool to the arms of a very large guy who appeared happy to get his hands on her. She soon wiggled herself loose from his grasp and continued to leap into the arms of anyone who would allow her to. I watched a couple of the leaps and then turned my attention back to the music.

The night continued and I am certain that my son was counting the minutes for it to end; this was his second gig that day and the earlier one was in the sun. A gig like this is a drain on the soul of a musician. He or she plays their music with a strained voice attempting to be heard over the ruckus that these bar atmospheres often include. 

He only had enough time for two more songs. He was singing the first of those two when this same blonde staggered toward the stage. She began to wiggle to the music, then she jerked her top off with one quick motion. It surprised us all. Under her top she had a smaller top, or maybe it was one of those sports bras, as she began tugging at it, a customer standing near the bar ran out and stopped her. Then she took off one of her shoes and flung it across the room. She wore extremely high wedge heels and when only one was removed it threw her off balance and she sort of fell, yet stayed upright while stumbling closer to the stage. Once she took hold of the stage, she removed the remaining shoe and slightly regained her balance. Then she pulled out her cell phone, began playing music on it and slid it onto the stage, just under my son’s feet. This was a first. He had never had someone play their own radio music under his feet while he was singing. Seconds after sliding her music-playing-phone onto the stage, she hopped up there and began whispering something in his ear, grabbing the microphone, all while attempting to dance for the audience. She reminded me of a kid with severe ADHD who just drank a large caffeinated drink. I don’t think she had a specific plan, she just needed attention at that moment. Well, the show was over at that point…it was the last song anyway, but I never saw security or anyone make an effort to control her or remove her from the stage.

Eric broke down his PA system as I waited and he loaded it out to the car, then I decided to take a trip to the ladies room before hitting the road. There are two stalls in the ladies room, one had a large sign that read “Out of Order”…the other seemed available as the door was slightly cracked open. I grabbed the knob and pulled only to be surprised by this same girl I had been observing all night. She stood there with a confused look on her face. Uncertainty was written all over her. After falling back, staggering from wall to wall, she walked out and passed me. I said, “Hi”; which was awkward but I wasn’t sure I had the right words for her, but I WAS sure I had to go to the bathroom. When I exited the bathroom stall, she was standing there waiting on me. Her words were so slurred I kept guessing at what she was saying and she would shake her head no. Then she pointed to the back of her wrist and I knew she wanted the time. I told her it was 1:11, she nodded..then clearly said, I need to find my car. I said, “No, you do not need to find your car”…”I can get the bartender to call a cab or uber for you.” She just stared at me like I was crazy and staggered off into the crowd. I have thought of her several times in the last couple of days since I first saw her. My hope is that she is safe. My hope is that she gets a grip on whatever is eating away at her. She is young with her whole life ahead of her; she obviously needs some guidance to get her headed to a happy life.