One of the more clarifying moments in my life came on a summer afternoon when I was 19. The moment was a gift, completely unexpected, as the best gifts often are. I was in Newport Beach with my family for the afternoon and went for a swim in the water with dad. We were catching waves and talking when something hit me: I wanted to be my dad. I wanted to be the type of man and father he has been for my family his whole life. He’s never been into cars or money or fame, just hard work and strong values. When I need an example of how to be a “man”, I look no further then him, there’s no need. All that became clear then, and it’s what I strive to be to this day.
Another one of those moments happened this Friday after the concert at my house,
and it had nothing to do with MY music…
At the end of our set (which I felt went extremely well), my Aunt asked if she could play a song or two. I was more then happy to hear her play. My Aunt used to play guitar, is a very musical person and had told me during intermission that she was recently inspired to start playing again. She confessed that life was a little rough at the moment and wouldn’t mind playing some music.
And how she performed was truly touching. She played just to play. To escape somewhere else for a moment. She played because she HAD to. Because music has a way of fixing things for just an instant. No posters, no press packages, no managers, no back-stage passes…just a moving version of John Denver’s “Country Roads.”
It was a moment that made me remember why I do what I do. What it’s like to sit in the audience and be utterly moved by a simple melody. You stand on stage enough and it’s easy to forget what the other side is like, or why you started playing in the first place.
My Aunt’s performance is why.
“One good thing about music, when it hits you, you feel no pain.”