Takeaway 2
I always struggled with being, apparently, one of the few black guys into rock music. Not struggle like I'm having trouble falling asleep at night, but struggle with whether or not it's accepted that I like it. Or even, that someone makes immediate judgement of me because of that alone.
The first time I sang karaoke in front of friends was in Lompoc, CA. It was 1999 and I picked "My Own Worst Enemy" by Lit. The guy called me up and mentioned it was a good song. Then he looked at me and did a double take like, wait, YOU'RE singing this? I shrugged and went up there, drunk and nervous, but rocked my large behind off.
If anything, the lesson here is whatever you are, if you're not hurting others, be that. If the people around you don't accept who you are, find new people. None of my buddies had an issue with me enjoying rock and that's fine by me. But that's not the takeaway.
Years later after not being in front of the mic for years I started doing karaoke again in San Antonio. I consistently went to one place where there was a karaoke jockey and a hostess, who was his wife. I came enough that they asked me to compete in a competition. I won the first round and in preparation for the second round, they invited me to their place to practice. The song I wanted to sing was "Time", by Hootie and the Blowfish. They started up the song. I sang it. At the end of the song, the hostess, Cynthia, looks at me and says, "What are you afraid of?"
And I got immediately what she meant. I was singing the song. I hit the notes I needed to hit. But I wasn't embracing doing it. That's still not the takeaway.
Sometime later I was out with friends at karaoke and the song I decided to sing was "Epiphany", by Staind. Which is a pretty heartfelt song with the singer, Aaron Lewis, singing about his vulnerability. First verse comes and I was nervous. Singing but not in the song but then something just clicked. I just let it go and belted out the song like it didn't really matter who was hearing it, thus was me and this is my voice you're hearing. Consequences be damned. Your opinion be damned. For the next couple of minutes, this is MY song.
I finished the song. I close my eyes a lot when I sing, not out of fear but because it helps me visualize the song for some reason. So, I opened my eyes and two guys were sitting up front listening and they give me the "rock on" hand signal. I returned it.
And that would be my takeaway.
The first time I sang karaoke in front of friends was in Lompoc, CA. It was 1999 and I picked "My Own Worst Enemy" by Lit. The guy called me up and mentioned it was a good song. Then he looked at me and did a double take like, wait, YOU'RE singing this? I shrugged and went up there, drunk and nervous, but rocked my large behind off.
If anything, the lesson here is whatever you are, if you're not hurting others, be that. If the people around you don't accept who you are, find new people. None of my buddies had an issue with me enjoying rock and that's fine by me. But that's not the takeaway.
Years later after not being in front of the mic for years I started doing karaoke again in San Antonio. I consistently went to one place where there was a karaoke jockey and a hostess, who was his wife. I came enough that they asked me to compete in a competition. I won the first round and in preparation for the second round, they invited me to their place to practice. The song I wanted to sing was "Time", by Hootie and the Blowfish. They started up the song. I sang it. At the end of the song, the hostess, Cynthia, looks at me and says, "What are you afraid of?"
And I got immediately what she meant. I was singing the song. I hit the notes I needed to hit. But I wasn't embracing doing it. That's still not the takeaway.
Sometime later I was out with friends at karaoke and the song I decided to sing was "Epiphany", by Staind. Which is a pretty heartfelt song with the singer, Aaron Lewis, singing about his vulnerability. First verse comes and I was nervous. Singing but not in the song but then something just clicked. I just let it go and belted out the song like it didn't really matter who was hearing it, thus was me and this is my voice you're hearing. Consequences be damned. Your opinion be damned. For the next couple of minutes, this is MY song.
I finished the song. I close my eyes a lot when I sing, not out of fear but because it helps me visualize the song for some reason. So, I opened my eyes and two guys were sitting up front listening and they give me the "rock on" hand signal. I returned it.
And that would be my takeaway.
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