The rock life chose me

Twenty years ago we had a record deal. We had a road crew. We had merchandise. And we had dreams of traveling the countryside and sharing music and good times with as many people as possible.

At the time, it felt like a wonderful recipe for perpetual adoration. Who doesn't love to be loved?

But that kind of adoration, that kind of superficial, transient appreciation of one's art and not necessarily one's person, isn't helpful in any of the big ways. It's nice and it can be intense, but it doesn't last. It does little to elevate either the adoring or the adored. Quite the opposite. Its fruit is little more than entitlement and narcissism.

So when the opportunity came to experience a different kind of love and adoration, something that, at the outset, felt more perfect, more healing, I jumped at it.

This came to me in the form of religion. And a woman. Years of hauling gear in and out of trucks, playing one bar after another, hustling to get as many people out to each show as possible- all of that paled against the promise of holy matrimony and blessed domesticity.

I got religion and I got married. But I have issues and the marriage went to shit in a hurry.

With no band and no woman, my religious life only became more important. And after a bit, I found another woman, this one more religious than myself. Now I could finally settle into marital bliss, have some kids, and grow old.

But again. Those issues.

So fifteen years and four beautiful daughters later, that also went to shit.

I just got back from New York. I go every month to see my daughters because that's where their mother took them. I fought it, as any good man would, and I lost almost everything in the process.

I say almost everything, because although my family is gone, my money is gone, and my heart is broken, I still have my issues.

And while my issues do not appear to serve me very well in my romantic relationships, they serve my art beautifully.

Brothers and sisters- I am incapable of being anything other than a rock star.

Ruined, I no longer fear your adoration.

ps:

I shared this with Chris who helped me to realize that the absence of fear is only the beginning of healing into an acceptance of my present state. To leave it there is to numb myself to possibilities that might exist were I to view my situation with more bravery than apathy.

In many ways, this is the point of collaborative creation. Alone, we don't see the pitfalls of our creative process. As a band, we stand a better chance of seeing, avoiding, or, in this case, helping each other out of those very dark holes.