I have been having a lot of weird dreams about Boston lately. Even though my original plan has been to eventually inhabit “The City,” there is something odd that keeps bringing Boston back to mind. Sometimes when I think of how I was at Berklee for five years, it kind of dumbfounds me. Given my current circumstances, it feels like I was never there. I remember it like it was some weird fantasy or some science-fiction thought implant that didn’t actually happen– like Bourne Identity or The Long Kiss Goodnight– I can pick up a bass and play the hell out of it, but I don’t know how or why.
That last part is totally literal. I don’t know why! I really miss music right now. I don’t mean I miss teaching– I mean I miss music. I miss the environment I had in Boston, one where music was literally everywhere. Some of the reason I don’t play bass much when I am home (in Norfolk) is because it’s just plain boring here. It’s been said before, but this area really sucks for music. You have some incredible talent hidden away in this area and, unfortunately, you won’t know about it. Some of them have given up the battle and joined cover bands. Many of them only get to perform for the 13 year old kids who take lessons from them. It’s a tragedy that the music scene in Hampton Roads is so impaled. I wish it were different, and I wish it was such a debilitating obstacle for so many of my friends who live and work here.
But it is also a reminder as to why I am at the point that I am at. I went to ECPI because music could not provide for me the future I wanted, because I had already hit the ceiling of what I would be doing for the rest of my life if I stayed here– which was teaching out of a music store– and I strongly disagreed with the way Alpha Music chose to do business with its instructors. Had I known then what I know now, maybe I would not have made that decision. ECPI turned out to not be what I wanted it to be, but teaching at Alpha turned out the same way. Regardless of where I end up in the IT field, I came out of my brief experiences as a music instructor with the knowledge that A) I can teach kids how to play the bass in an engaging and passionate way and B) My Berklee credibility allows me to do this anywhere in the country. (Just to clarify, Berklee’s credibility means more to most parents and music store owners than it does to me, but I am proud to have the diploma hanging over my desk).
I could teach full time if I was really in a jam. There are other places to teach in Hampton Roads, and I am confident enough as a private instructor that I could be an asset to just about any shop in the area. I have done the Governor’s School thing two years in a row now, which is also a notable addition to my resume. The problem is that I just don’t want to teach anymore. I want to play again. I want to be a student again, and I want to really focus on moving up to the next level. I think this is another reason Boston is on my mind.
I tell my GSA students all of the time that when they go to college they need to keep an open mind and really try to absorb all they can, but they also need a plan. My biggest mistake in life, was going to Berklee College of Music half-cocked. It wasn’t all my fault, but I was totally unprepared, and I feel like I am paying the penance for it right now. When you are 18 years old, college is more than a continuation of your high school education. College really should be something you do after a few years of living in the real world. Otherwise, you are too occupied by this first transition phase away from the protective bubble of your home and family to really concentrate on what you are going to college for. Many great musicians come into Berklee every semester, and some of them have never been to a city like Boston in their lives.
Some of them are the only “good” musician in their respective hometowns and are thrust into the “small fish in a big pond” scenario unexpectedly.
Some know nothing of playing music beyond their bedrooms.
Some of them have only been exposed to Jazz via local radio stations and Jamey Abersold play-a-longs.
Some of them really think practicing ten hours a day will make them famous.
Some of them have no idea what they are getting into. No idea at all.
Naturally, people with this background are witness to a great deal of distraction when they come to a place like Berklee. I never had really good teachers before Berklee, and I was intimidated by the incredible talent I was constantly surrounded by. I was in a daze. I couldn’t read well, improvise well, and I had no solid sense of my strengths or assets as a player. My teachers were stomping me into the ground. I was a horrible student and I had, from what I could tell, made a serious mistake in coming to Berklee. Mostly, because I had no idea what to expect, I was unprepared, and because I didn’t know how to suddenly pull a work ethic out of my ass after spending four years slacking off in high school. It’s hard to just become industrious. This is another thing I tell my students: Maybe you hate homework, studying, and practicing, but these are all skills that you can develop for when the time comes to really work on something important.
Needless to say, I was not ready for Berklee. I remember days where I just wanted to give up. Fling my bass over the bridge into the Charles River and get a job at Uhaul (that was the joke). It was not until I graduated that I felt like I was finally ready to start. I think I got by on natural ability and good instincts. I was passionate about the music that I loved, and I think that helped me a lot. I also refused to drop out. I wanted to do well, it was just so damned hard for me. I had, and have, a ton of untapped potential that has yet to spout forth.
Someday I’ll be a great bass player. I hope before I am forty.
So, by no stretch of the imagination was my Berklee experience a Utopian fantasy, but I miss it. I miss it bad. If someone said I could go back again and not pay a dime, I would do it immediately. I would love to work in Boston just so I could take lessons with guys like Anthiony Vitti, Whit Browne and Danny Mo’. That would kick ass. I would endure all manner of IT-related hell for that kind of an opportunity.
I don’t have to live in Boston to take lessons with those guys, though, and Boston stills feels like a “Plan B.” I am sure I could make arrangements to go up there for a weekend (actually, that something I really would like to do this summer once I get back on my feet). I have to visit Tom first though.
After all is said and done, Brooklyn still holds the greatest potential for me. I’ve never lived there, but I know I can eventually get work in both of my fields there. I’ve got Tom and Tiff. I’ve got Chris in Queens. I’ve got new experiences ahead of me– which really is more important than any attempts at validating myself in my old Bostonian stomping grounds. Also, Kim and I would be in it together in Brooklyn. In Boston I would already known where everything is, which would be handy for her, but boring for me.
I guess I am just trying to sort through some of these weird feelings I have been having. This desire to go to Boston really has nothing to do with Boston at all. It has to do with vindicating these feelings of failure I have concerning my music career. There is no guarantee that going to Boston would vindicate anything, it could just as easily confirm those feelings. I just want a clear head before I can move to the next stage. This time I want to have a plan.
Speaking of clear head. Goodnight.
