The lifestyle of music, it seems, fits my interest in what's over the next hill, and it always felt natural to be working to an audience, to be telling a story in song or conversation, to be hanging with people of musical genius that were my heroes and friends.
The Lord leads us, each and every one, in the paths that He chooses for us, if we are willing to follow and not try to go off on side roads of our own desires. I have tried to always be on His Path, but, alas, I have failed many times. It is a regret of my life that I have not been more faithful, but we are what we are, and that is what God's forgiveness is for.
A Musicians life is not for the faint hearted, and not for one that want's a guaranteed pot of gold at the end of their rainbow. No, it is for those who find their satisfaction in a sound, a phrase, a lick, a run, a perfect tuned instrument, a particular word that rhymes. There is no retirement and gold watch when you put in 50 years service. No plaque to put on the wall that says, "In Appreciation of good service and faithful attendance"....no, your reward is in a certain someone, who is listening in the audience, rapt expression on their face, totally understanding the message you are trying to bring, and who comes around after the show and says, "Thank you, your music really touched me." That's it, that's the reward...if that is not enough, then you need to find another line of work. Those special moments in a Musicians life, when the song is just right, the band really tight, the sound system works perfectly, and the audience, on this particular night, is receiving the art you are puttiing forth...and sending it right back to the stage like an electric current. Then, you thank God that you were choosen for this life, the life of music and love. And it is all worth while.
Every one of my friends, when I would ask, "so, what got you into this business, anyway." Would be stuck for an answer. I mean, sure, they could tell you how it physically happened, so and so heard me and gave me a hand up, or so and so discovered me, or heck, I don't know, I just always have done it, I guess. I am convinced that the George Jones, Merle Haggards, Red Foley's, Vern Gosdins or Marty Robbins...they don't just make a plan to do that with their life and keep working at it til it happens. No, it is much more complex than that. Course, I am talking about the olden times of music, the times when you just worked your butt off, making music in any way that opened up, kept sharpening your vocal or music skills til you could stand out in any crowd of pickers. I mean, I guess nowadays, with American Idol and stuff like that, you can become an overnight star, but where are the characters of old, the guys who made it in spite of stints in jail or prison, because they just couldn't fit the common pattern of society, they were always out of sync with the powers that be. I would like to see some of these young cracker jacks, who have sudden stardom, riding in multiple busses given to them by their record companies...how long would they last riding 5 to a car, jammed up together for hundreds of miles, doing a series of one nighters across Mid America, working some of the clubs that have chicken wire around the stage to stop the beer bottles being thrown by the patrons at the end of each song...and that is if they like you....if they didn't you had to have a tough band that could fight their way out of the gig. I'd like to see them sing a great song like Johnny Paycheck (Donny Lytle)could, and watch how serious they were in music, when a woman fan, standing in front of the stage, looking up at Johnny with pure adoration for his talent, and her ex husband stalker, walks in, walks down to the stage and blows her brains out in the middle of the song. Where is Mr. American Idol singing star after that....does he go on, like Johnny did, in spite of the horror of it all or not? I went on Johnny's tour bus, about 30 minutes after that horror happened, and found him crying his heart out back in the stateroom. But, that was the underbelly of the country music that we all knew back in the day....no, it was not for the faint hearted. Every one of those heroes,I mentioned earlier, led this kind of existence, in the beginning of their careers. We were dang tough, and willing to risk it all, for one more song, one more encore, one more fan.
So, yeah, I enjoy the peace of my front porch in the old farm house by the creek, writing my little stories each day, just to keep in contact with the people who appreciate the classic music, and the lives that went with making that music. I don't know, I just think it is kinda important, that today, people know where it all came from. It came from blood, sweat, and miles of two lane highway. I know, from being there, that the behind the scenes happenings of a life of music was not always a pretty picture, most of my friends and heroes knew terrible heartache and loss, could sing about them in the songs that the wrote, would close their eyes in the middle of the song and see the hurtful things happen, again and again, when they sung those songs.
A life of music was not for the faint hearted, no, many times it was for the broken hearted, the troubled and tortured men and women, who could sing about your heartache, and touch a chord within you, but who really were singing about themselves. Could anyone listen to "Your Cheatin' Heart", and not know that Hank was tortured by a wife's infidelity? When Red Foley, on his very last show, before he went to the hotel room after and drank until he passed out and died, standing on stage, staring quietly at the crowd, and saying, "Folks, this song kinda tells how the old Red Head is feeling tonight", and going into his Peace In The Valley, one last time...."Well, I'm tired and so weary. But I must go along. Till the Lord comes and calls me away, oh yes."
From watching his pain, for so many years that I knew him, I have to believe that he got what he had been looking for.....Peace. Stan
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