Who would have guessed?
Who would have guessed? If you asked many of the people, who listened to me perform when I was younger, if they could see me as a singer, a songwriter, or even an capable musician, I'm sure that almost every one of them would have said, no. I remember, one day, in particular, during my college years, a woman laughed, hysterically, at me, while I sang and played guitar. Her friend, who stood next to her, smiled and said, "She's laughing because she's thinks it's a joke. Dude, how can you, not, know how terrible you sound?"
Then, one day during summer break, my father grabbed me by the arm and said, "What's going on?"
I said, "What do you mean?"
He said, "What do you mean, what do you mean? I mean, what's going on, your mother and I have noticed that you haven't been playing guitar, lately. It's your own business what you do, but we miss it. I know we complain, and I know I'm going to kick myself for saying this but we miss hearing you play. Your playing breaths life into this house." He then said, "Look, you know I always felt that you can do something with your music."
I said, "It's your fault. It's your fault for telling me that I'm good at something when I'm not. You have no idea, just how bad I am, dad. I wish I never listened to you."
Then, one day during summer break, my father grabbed me by the arm and said, "What's going on?"
I said, "What do you mean?"
He said, "What do you mean, what do you mean? I mean, what's going on, your mother and I have noticed that you haven't been playing guitar, lately. It's your own business what you do, but we miss it. I know we complain, and I know I'm going to kick myself for saying this but we miss hearing you play. Your playing breaths life into this house." He then said, "Look, you know I always felt that you can do something with your music."
I said, "It's your fault. It's your fault for telling me that I'm good at something when I'm not. You have no idea, just how bad I am, dad. I wish I never listened to you."
He's been gone sixteen years and it's been my life's mission and struggle to forgive him for all the mysteries of my childhood. Yet, I know why I play and sing now, even though I, sometimes, sing about surviving his flawed temper. I sing because he would miss it, if I didn't. So, I blame him for this. I blame him for not letting me give up on this silly and stupid dream of mine.
