Never Be Finished
A few weeks ago, I was asked to sub in the orchestra pit for SpongeBob: The Musical. I, of course, said “absorbent and yellow and porous is he!”, and skipped gleefully off into the night with the guitar score in my hands.
For those of you just joining us, I went to College for music. I have a degree in that shizzle. Bask in my glory. I can read music, charts, scores, and I can even conduct an orchestra. Again, behold all that is me. But I was unprepared for what awaited me in the SpongeBob pit.
I got the music on Sunday, and first rehearsal was Tuesday evening. So I had a 36 hours or so to prepare. But, of course, I procrastinated until Tuesday morning. BECAUSE THERE’S RERUNS OF GILMORE GIRLS TO WATCH!
I cracked the score, and read through everything, feeling the rusty wheels start to move after 20 years of playing “Don’t Stop Believin’” at every single event. Recognizing the old rhythm patterns and hand positions for lead lines slowly swim into view after they’d been lurking in my minds basement, and possibly being tortured (again, by repeated iterations of “Don’t Stop Believin’”. Just kidding, I love Journey).
I thought, I’ve got this. I did not, of course, have this.
I got my ass handed to me that first rehearsal.
I missed entrances, I flubbed lines, I let fly with some real musical clunkers. Horrible dissonances that had the rest of the orchestra side eying me like a Labrador that had just heard the word “bacon” but no smoked were meats in sight.
And every time I made a mistake, I laughed. Joyfully. Gleefully. I loved every moment.
I’ve been playing music for a very long time. My first piano lesson is over 40 years ago. I believe I even pooped on the piano bench (you’re welcome). I’ve played giant stages all over the world and commanded audiences of thousands. And the SpongeBob Orchestra Pit beat the shit out of me and sent me home to mom. It had been so long since I’d felt challenged as a player. And I was excited, and ready for more.
I went home, practiced my ass off, and by the time we hit the dress rehearsal Thursday morning, I had it. The performance was about an A-, but the mistakes had been wrangled back to the point that they weren’t obvious, and were more about an errant page turn than Stu’s slightly drunk fingers.
The beauty of a full-time music career means a constant learning experience. The further you go, the more you learn. And the more you realize you don’t know.
We will never know everything about our chosen craft. And to me, that is a beautiful gift. To have been given a joyful experience that I know I’ll never complete. I’ll never run out of things to learn. Whether in the business, or the performance. Music is a glorious, complex, ever evolving lover. I plan on trying to keep up, but I don’t ever want to feel like I have it mastered. I love this journey, and I’m grateful that something as simple as a song will keep me enamored for life.
So, I encourage you, dear reader, to keep learning. Keep playing. Keep practicing. Keep challenging yourself. You are not put here to pay taxes and die. You are meant to thrive and expand into the fullest universal glowing butterfly spirit (I really hope there are glowing space butterflies out there in the universe).
Some people “of a certain age” believe that they’re done growing. That’s when they start to die. Don’t be that person. Keep learning. Keep trying. Keep pushing boundaries. There is joy in the labors.
Never be finished. That’s a life worth living all the way until it’s done.
