Just wanted to say hello, and get current before all the leaves fall off the trees.
What I thought would be a quiet summer ended up being busier than I expected. I played about once a week, and wrote and recorded seven new songs. So, music was all around me. I took trips to Buffalo three times, Cape Cod two times, Philly, Montreal, NYC, Hampton Beach, and even hung out on Saranac Lake for a couple of days. Summer was here and gone before I could say "allergy season".
Had a thought today:
I was driving home after a riveting trip to my town's excise tax office, thinking about what a complete waste half of my day had become doing mindless errands, and I happened to pass by a construction type guy sitting on the back of a truck. He was eating his lunch alone, somewhat gingerly. I realized I will probably never know him, and he will most likely never know me as that is the way of this world. He seemed to be in a somewhat blissful "I was hungry, and soon I won't be" state. He was wearing dirty work clothes. I was wearing a hipster t-shirt my friend gave me in Los Angeles. I was driving a white sparkly Prius. He had been operating heavy machinery.
Yet for some reason, my lack of connection to him reminded me why I think I do what I do, how my goal is always to try and forge little connections along the way, through a song, a melody, a lyric, a post show chat, a story, a joke. To make someone else feel less alone, to make myself feel less alone.
I had a second thought. Maybe he has heard a song of mine somewhere, if he saw Something about Mary, or August Rush, etc) and didn't know it. Maybe I've driven down roads he paved, and didn't know it. Maybe we are connected.
But my bet is that that's why we musicians ultimately do what we do. We may start out wanting to meet girls, or get attention, or respect, but once that comes, it's not hard to figure out that that road is finite, that tank gets filled. I don't mean to make it sound loftier than it is. But when I find a little club in a little town I pull up in, and then you show up to listen to me spew my nonsense, for me, that is a recipe for magic, because if I meet the challenge of being honest, and singing my heart out, and long as the soundman's not passed out, we should be good. You will know me well, and I will try to reflect you.
Anyhow, I'm not exactly sure why I wondered about this particular construction worker, and what his life must be like. I don't think he wondered about me. He probably just thought I was a fruitcake in a Prius
I suppose I just feel so so so lucky to be able to do what I do, at the level that I do, and if ,or as, that level rises, I am constantly surprised. Keep in mind, I grew up six kids and two parents in a 3 bedroom house There wasn't a lot of room for anything but imagination, but even the kid back then never would have imagined that someday I'd be who, or at least what I am today.
And I owe it all to you.