It's Early on Saturday morning. As half the world sleeps, I'm sitting here listening to the rough mixes of our forthcoming EP, quietly contemplating things to come - all the while reminiscing on days long passed. I can't help but think of all the miles I've traveled, challenges I've faced, decisions I've made, love I've lost, personal sacrifices I've made, and everything else that's led me to this very moment in time - and how far I've come.
It's interesting how things have a way of coming full circle, and as every door closes, another indubitably opens. I remember the night I met Keith for the first time all those years ago, when I was still a teenager. We were both checking out a show, and we just sort of bumped into each other and struck up a conversation. The band he was in at the time was searching for a guitar player, and I, as fate would have it, was searching for a band.
Keith came over to my house almost every day for nearly 2 weeks to help me learn the songs. I practiced them on my own until my fingers bled.
The day of the audition (my first real audition, by the way) had finally arrived, and I was absolutely stoked. I had to have a friend drive me to the rehearsal studio (and hang out for the entire audition) because I was too broke to afford wheels at the time. When I brought in my gear and met the rest of the guys for the first time, I could almost see the "what the fuck is that?" look on their faces. Although I didn't show it outwardly, I was freaking the fuck out on the inside...
We tuned up and got to work. I made it through the first song OK. About halfway through the second song, something happened. It felt like the walls were beginning to close in on me, and everything I had learned over the previous two weeks just flew right out of my head. And right then and there, I realized that I had just blown the audition. The proverbial door had been effectively closed.
But something else happened in the process. Not only had I learned a few extremely valuable lessons (e.g., pride precedeth the fall), I made a great friend in the process.
Over the years, our friendship continued to develop and flourish, even though at times we were separated by completely different paths and thousands of miles.
Fast-forward to 2011. I was in a desert, 6,500 miles away from the place I call home, wearing a U.S. Army uniform and toting an M-4 carbine.
The Thompsonator and I were chatting one night (like always) and somehow the idea just came up: Fatally Yours was born. After I got home, I had only a few short months left in what had seemed like an eternal contract with Uncle Sam. We were able to get together a group of extremely talented guys in what seemed like no time, and before we knew it, we were rolling.
I was ready to go all-in again, and the timing couldn't have been better.
I think that there are a few lessons to be extracted from all of this. Sometimes the answer isn't necessarily "no," it's "not now." And If you have a dream, for goodness sake, never, ever give up on it. Never let anyone tell you you're not good enough, and don't believe them if they do, because 90% of success is just showing up. It's up to you to work for it.
Velle Est Posse. To be willing is to be able.
Until next time...