The Mad Minstrel

Do you remember where you were New Year’s Eve 2003? I could never forget. If I close my eyes, I can still see it. I can feel the heat from the stage lights, hear the cheering crowd, and smell the house brew being tossed back as if there were no tomorrow. I was nineteen and playing Bass for a classic rock band and we were ringing in the New Year with style.

I’ll never forget the look on my mother’s face that night as she beamed back at me from behind her keyboard, daring me to keep up. We had been playing for about three and a half hours, it was after midnight, everyone was hammered (except me, I was still underage and had to carry a permit to play in the bar), we were nearing the end of our show, and THAT was the moment my mother chose to mess with me.

Oh, didn’t I mention? My family is a bit… unconventional. And my mother, well, she’s in a category all her own.

So there we were, playing in a rock band together- Mom on Keyboards and singing Lead, me on Bass and singing back-up, and just because she thought it would be hilarious, she began to speed up the song, letting it get incrementally faster and faster until I could no longer support the weight of my Bass while sliding my fingers across the strings.

I remember dropping to my knees and resting the weight of the guitar on the floor so I could give my full attention to the repeated riff. My fingers burned, my hands ached, sweat dripped down my face and all she did was look back at me with this smile that said, you were the one who wanted to be a musician. Keep up!

There have only been a few times in my life where I felt like I belonged on the stage or that I was good enough to stand with other musicians and say, that’s right, I’m a god. Worship me! That night was one of them. What a night.

Looking back, I think that was the first time I really understood music and it’s place in my life. I had always toyed with the idea of pursuing music, but in my family, that wasn’t a decision to take lightly.

My grandfather was a child prodigy and my mother’s a savant, and while they spent years at it, music always came easily to them. Me, I had spent half my life feeling like a one legged pirate chasing after Flo-Jo, so I never took it seriously because I knew I would never play at their level.

But that night was different. For the first time in my life I understood why people spent hours in silent meditation, because for one resounding moment it all came together. I didn’t have to think about what I was doing, I let the feeling of the music pouring from my fingertips wash over me, and I got lost in the melodies.

There was no fame, no famine, no hatred or war. It was just me, existing without influence or thought, and it was peaceful.

So now, I understand that I may never never match the talent and skill of some people *looks directly at her mother* but it’s okay, because I don’t do it for them, I do it for me.