Sometimes in life you have regrets. For me they seem to crop up when things are going well or poorly. In other words, when at the extremes the "what ifs" come to the fore. The latest one to run through my head hit home after 2 days in the studio, then a few nights of mixing late at night after work (and everyone is off to bed), then rehearsal where we wrote a new song as a group. The last two times we ran the song before ending rehearsal, I got chills. Those "lost in the music" chills. The chills that I get listening to certain music, felt at at the Universal Steely Dan show when they played home at last, and what I get with a lot of Simpleflower music. I wake up in the middle of the night with Back Inside and House of Lords running through my head. Haunting me.
So what of the regrets? Well, after 4 years of trying to be a rock guitarist in San Diego (and the requisite other parts of the scene), I decided to go to college. I entered as a music major, but at some point got sidetracked and ended up with a degree in chemistry. Mostly, I switched becuase I knew I could get a job as a chemistry teacher...a sure thing...employable. With a music degree I wanted to score films, but that is a tough industry...not a sure thing. Most people end up doing private lessons, hustling various gigs, just to make ends meet. Did I really want to teach music to 8th graders as a fall back position? So I took the "sure thing." And actually, I ended up getting a Ph.D. so I could teach at college, got my "dream job" at the Claremont Colleges, but eventually decided that I didn't want to do chemistry research, so I left that after 5 years. I suppose that was a bit of a risk, as I gave my notice in January of '00 before I had another job. But I landed on my feet at USC, getting a salary bump, then getting another position at USC with a serious salary bump. Along the way I got married and had a son who is now 7 (and ADHD, but that is another story).
So happy ending, right? Good job, good wife (who also is a chemistry Ph.D. and now an attorney), nice house, sweet Porsche 911SC (albeit 24 years old) in the garage. And I still play music on the side. Have cake, eat it too.
But no, instead regrets. Would have, should have, could have. What are you asking? And why? Well, when I get the chills, I know what moves my soul. Music. So part of me is really angry for not following my heart and soul instead of a "safe" route. And now, is it too late? Once you have a kid and a mortgage, it gets tough. But I can't just run away and join the circus (so to speak). Instead I try to work around the edges, and look for opportunities where I can find them. And try to think about what could be, instead of what might have been.
What does this all mean? I have to keep playing music. And look for ways to play more and better music. Try and move heaven and earth to get things created before it's too late. Do some short tours (gotta find a nanny to take my place at home). It would be a hell of a lot easier to just "settle down", cash my paycheck, and watch tv. But I can't. I have to play music. I have to play it better than I did yesterday.
Dylan Thomas’ “Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night”
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.