Music to My Ears.

Years ago I learned how to play music. Not as much by choice but because the school I went to required two years. The first year everyone picked up the recorder. Typical. The next year however, everyone had to pick an instrument. Keep in mind I commuted to school from the next town over. So by the time I arrived to try picking out my instrument, many had already been filled up. Percussion? Filled. Trumpet? Filled. Sax? Filled. I ended up with a flute. Yes, my first instrument was the piece of metal that was given new life as a dirty joke. At the time I thought it was a joke too.Fast forward a few years, and I not only learned to appreciate it, but loved it. I played right into my Junior High days. Then change was about to happen.

Teenage angst was setting in. The bad director I had was a... well 30 years later and I still can't find a word to describe my disdain. Not only did I get the flute jokes from other band members, and the student body, but was belittled by this toxic life form for the same thing. I no longer wanted to play. I kept my flute at home and made a change. I finally went to the percussion section. Xylophone, tympani, bells, cymbals, etc. You put me behind them, and I wasn't going to just play them. I was going to beat them! My anger and frustration went into whatever I was going to be playing for a given song. And he hated it.

Enter my dad. He played guitar since he was a kid, and picked up piano/ keyboards along the way by ear. He'd played with many a band, and had tried to teach me some guitar, but I didn't want it at the time. So he did the next best thing, and bought me a drum kit. At this point I didn't like playing in front of people much because of said band director. I'd mess around sometimes with friends. My pleasure was much more in the confines of home though. I'd crank the stereo, or put on my headphones, and would kick that kit for all I was worth in high school.

Then of course life happened. I went to a military school, enlisted in the Marine Corps, had a child, and on and on. When I finally came home to the US. My beloved flute was long gone, lost amongst my parents moving. My drums were destroyed by a bad roommate of my future stepdad's when my folks split. The only music in my life was the radio, cd's, and old cassettes. I accepted it for years. I tried getting into the whole guitar hero thing with my kids. And while the drums were good "FOR A GAME". They weren't the real thing. I had a hole begging to be filled.

The day finally came to fill that hole. I'd been looking around some local music stores. One day, my dad was in town and asked me if I could get any instrument there, which one would I choose? Thinking is was a hypothetical question I answered honestly and showed him the bass guitar I'd had my eye on. I don't know what it was, but I was just drawn to her. He bought her on the spot along with an amp. My jaw dropped!

The day I brought Ol' Blue home.

My journey back into music was rekindled. My ex thought I was wasting my time. So I'd spend what time I could back in the bedroom (sexy I know) getting to know my new found love. Not long after I had started to get to know her, tragedy struck. My dad died unexpectedly. I couldn't even look at Ol' Blue without wanting to cry. So she was put away for a couple years. Once in a while I'd try, but couldn't. Finally, enough time went by and I not only could bring her out of her confinement, but I started getting to know her all over again. Just a little at a time. It was like I was able to spend time with my dad.

Fast forward a little bit, and the church was looking for a bassist. I didn't say anything at first. And then a friend, who knew I played a little, told the music director. I explained I was just learning and didn't think I'd be up to par. Really it was because after all those years, I was still that kid that didn't want to play for people anymore. But after some discussion I went out, and a couple weeks later found myself stepping into a band again. It was different this time. I wasn't playing for people, I was serving the Lord! While it wasn't exactly my style of music, that didn't matter anymore. The game had changed!

The Artist hanging out on stage.

A a rapid rate I found myself starting on just mid-week service, to playing mid-week and all Sunday services as well. It was exciting. And then it got more exciting. Mid-week service went away during the summer do to so many things happening in the church and there not being prep-time. But when they came back, we found ourselves doing an acoustic night, since our keys man was leading the Youth service now. So I found myself an acoustic/electric bass to go with the sound. She's gotten a lot of praise. And then another change had taken its toll as well.

My violin bass Happy Camper.

 I'd sustained a back injury at work and needed something a little lighter than Ol' Blue. Enter Happy Camper. And just like any other instrument, they each have their own personality and sound. I've found myself switching out between the three, depending on what day it is, what we're playing, or just plain how I'm feeling.

That hole has been filled. I have music in it's rawest form back in my life. And when I'm down, it really helps. It transcends just listening. I hear it, feel it, clear my head, spend time with loved ones past, and most importantly learn. Whether it's a technique, and adjustment to a song, or a riff that's in my head, I'm a student of music. I enjoy playing again. Not only am I part of a band of people I respect, I'm part of the greatest band on earth. God's band. You'll find them in your local church, with varying styles of play and worship.

Now you're probably asking what the point is. And there is one. This has just been a part of my journey. NEVER LET ANYONE STEAL YOUR MUSIC. You may not find it again. Your music may be literal, or something else entirely. But it's a part of you. You can take breaks if need be. But don't lose it. Ever.

Serving with the Lords blessings upon me.

Life dreams, journeys, opinions, and advice.

A lil bit on joining the military here. Before, during, and now years after I'm still asked, "why would you join the military?" My retort, why wouldn't you? I'm of the opinion that every able bodied person should serve at least one term. But that's just me.

For me it goes back a ways though. I come from a family where damn near every generation has had at least one person go into the military. It's not required, expected, pressured, or even really talked about. It just happens. So there may be some bias there. My personal journey started way before that though. When I was little, I'd line up all of my toys to face off against each other. I knew from a young age I wanted to be in the service, I just didn't know what branch, and I wanted to be a cop. By the time I was in high school, I can still recall many people telling me I was nuts, or trying to dictate which branch to go in because "it was safer." Safer? My opinion hasn't changed on this part. Screw safer, if you're looking for safety go lead a pack of girl scouts at a bake sale! It doesn't matter what branch you're looking at, "safer" shouldn't be a consideration.

Bottom line is regardless of the job you want or end up with, the military is there to look the Grim Reaper in the eye, smile, piss on his feet, and call him a pussy.

Then came the vast majority, but not all, of my teachers and the outspoken ass hats that never had the balls to serve telling me I'd never graduate let alone make it. Now, I'm the first to admit I was a jerk once I hit puberty. After some time bouncing between private and public schools, and moving around, I finally got in gear. I buckled down on my school work, got my grades up, and then applied to NMMI.

For those that don't know NMMI is an 4 year high school, and 2 year junior college with an Army commissioning program. Some refer to it as the West Point of the west. Oh man, I had so many people tell me I wouldn't make it a week there, it made me sick. Upon getting there, I learned that because of how different the curriculum was (private school credits don't carry over to other schools in my state), I'd graduate much later as well. 2 years late! Yes, I was 20 when I finally graduated. Not only did I make it through 2 years, I graduated, and to this day I'm still in touch with some of the best friends I'll ever make from there. It was while I was here I finally enlisted in the USMC.

Even after making it through NMMI, going back home was a nightmare. Not only had I proven the nay-sayers wrong, but they continued to say I'd never amount to anything and wouldn't make it through boot camp.

I can remember the flight out to San Diego still. A group of us flew from Albuquerque, NM together. Made it to the USO where we were told where to go to wait for our bus to MCRD. Finally a few white busses pulled up and were wer rushed in, and told to keep our mouths shut by what I viewed at the time as the worst recruiter in history. After a while, this same person would tell us to put our heads down and look at the floor as we continued on. Finally the bus came to a stop, another guy jumped on the bus and started yelling at us in a tongue that I can only describe as an alien dialect as we were rushed off the bus and onto some yellow footprints. The journey began, and I'd not only gain new life long friends, but a new family. And I will be able to claim the title of US Marine until the day I die.

So why join up? To serve. To be a part of something bigger than yourself. To be a part of a small, and unique culture or warriors. To know that your work made a difference somewhere. To accomplish what others can only dream of. To travel to places you'd otherwise never see. To meet new people. To develope special skills that others lack. To find character that others only dream about. And to know you'll never know what it's like to regret not stepping up to the plate and showing just how big your balls really are.

All these years later, I can look back with pride. I graduated from a top notch school. I became a Marine. And was a military policeman which allowed me to kill two birds with one stone. I proved all the nay-sayers wrong. I accomplished everything I wanted in my childhood  quickly. Now I set goals, and look for new achievements just for me. I don't care about the nay-sayers anymore because they're all wrong. I've become a parent. And recently added collge grad to my list of completions. So regardless of hurdles, I look forward to lifes journey and take my time in choosing what direction I want to go in it these days. You can do that once you've learned how to accomplish your goals and dreams.

So my advice to everyone is this. Figure out what your dream is, and go for it. Use the nay-sayers to fuel those desires. Even if you don't join the military (I'll admit it's not for everyone) don't wait. Once you know what you want, look at what you need to do to get there, and start taking the steps. Even though you may not be able to take them all at once, the ability to take those other steps will present themselves in due time. Just keep moving.