Me...a star???

         I am going thru a very busy & intense time right now, but you wouldn't know it today...it's Sunday, everything relevant to my current pursuits is closed and the WiFi here is so slow that web-surfing for info is near to impossible...suddenly, I'm bored, so why not write?
       
        I'm sure someone will ask: "How do you know that you don't care for fame if you've never had it...?".  So I feel an explanantion is in order.
      Actually, I have been briefly famous a number of times in my life, and it was kind of fun. But it also gave me insight into what fame is all about and about how I respond to it. That combined with the ability I have to vicariously learn from and empathetically respond to the experiences of others (both fans & famous) have convinced me that fame is not something I long for nor find worth pursuing.
     Don't get me wrong, not that I wouldn't like my music to be famous. That would make me quite happy. To share something I find of value, and have others find it of value would be a wonderful thing and a sort of validation that I'm not wasting my life. Not to mention the fulfillment of one of my life's missions. But I have always believed that something valuable is still valuable even if no one appreciates it (sounds silly put that way) and that a life lived truly has worth even when no one cares. This is one of those deep riddles I have never gotten around to solving, which is rare.

     Anyway, my first brush with fame was in junior high. Being one of the few guitar players in school that had more than "beginner" status, I was selected to play the iconic lead-guitar solo at the beginning of a medley of selections from "Jesus Christ Superstar". Combine this with a rockin' version of the title tune "Superstar" to close the number with me visibly putting my heart & soul in it (as is my way) and suddenly I went from among the most ridiculed and pitied in the school, to someone who could never be dismissed as being "without cool".
     OK, this didn't mean that everyone loved me. A few I made an indelible impression on and picked them up as obvious admirers. The vast majority singled me out for more teasing. But even in my youthful state I could read jealousy & admiration in their cruelty. This state of affairs actually lasted the rest of Jr. High at one level of intensity or another.

      The second time, it was a production of "Joseph & the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat" (by the same authors as "Superstar") in high school. Our assignment in composition class (I think) was to each write an arrangement of one of the tunes to be performed by a band made up of members of the class along with  a vocal group (glee club or chorus, I can't recall...).
      We were to perform this twice, once at an assembly at a local elementary school, and again at the high school for parents, etc.
      Well the performance for the kids was the most fun. But the suprising part was that the youngsters singled out two of us...myself & a handsome piano player (who had also sung Jesus part in the other production)...as the stars of the show. Unbelievably to me, we had groupies! They swarmed around us after the show begging for autographs! Very strange....

     My third experience came in college because of a songwriting class. We were each assigned to write a tune which would be performed onstage at the Berklee Performance Center, often using class members to form bands for accompaniment. The only stipulation was that the tune must be written in a popular style (it was a Pop Song class).
     Ever the nonconformist, I chose to write a country song even though I knew the form was looked down upon in what was at the time a stubbornly "jazz" oriented school.
     Always working from inspiration, this was no easy task, this writing on demand. I came up with a few semi-clever, contrived ideas and promptly pitched them. It was getting close to time to complete the assigment when I began to get discouraged, and all the things that were bothering me began to come to the surface. I finally just sat on the bed, wondering how I could produce any decent work in such a state. And feeling sorry for myself, I had the thought just emerge clearly in my mind "Why am I so lonely?"
    WHAT??? If that's not the basis for a country tune what is?! It just began falling into place..."what is it that makes me so blue? Why am I so lonely? It's just that I'm missing you!"

       The night of the performance came, the next part of the assigment, that of arranging our tunes had been done. Everything rehearsed. I was to be #5 in a field of 26 class members, and only one other had written a country tune.
       The bad news was I had laryngytis for 3 days prior to the performance and couldn't talk, let alone sing. I had only begun to regain some power of speech that morning. I wanted to perform so badly that I kept struggling, trying to get my voice back. I actually think I damaged it that day, since my falsetto has been very unreliable ever since.
       The first group opened the show, and it was obvious that I was in some very talented company. And then I thought to myself: tonight will tell me if I was cut out to be a performer or not...
       Suddenly...it was my turn! My little group was ready and I counted us off. I was shaky as I sang the opening chorus through, and my voice hard to control...the panic rising in my chest didn't help. But by the end of the 1st chrous, people began clapping along to the music...lightly at first...but then growing louder and LOUDER. I responded by getting more animated in my performance, drawing hoots and howls from the crowd. By the time the second chorus came around, everyone seemed to be clapping and cheering.
      Finally it was the last chorus (so SOON?), I shouted out for everyone to sing along...AND THEY DID! Even the lighting crew was getting into it, for on the last occurence of the word "blue", they hit me with a Big Blue Spotlight, and the crowd went WILD!
      At the end people cheered & clapped for a good long time.

       Alright...so much for a cherished memories. Let's look at it realistically. I know well that the reason some of those folks were enjoying it so much, is they were laughing at me a bit...the "country fool in a jazz school." Also as one of my teachers remarked later "That was a good song...Not a great song, mind you."
     Heck, I knew that too. Also, by the time the last act, #26 came around, a lot of folks had gotten tired and gone home, and missed some darn good talent.
      So why was I the hit of the show? Many up there were more polished as songwriters. My creaky voice that night couldn't stand up to people who regarded their voice as their instrument.
The answer I guess, is that I engaged the audience, and for weeks and even months after that night, people I didn't even know would come up to me on the street, singing my song at me....!

       So, it wouldn't be fair to say I haven't experienced some of what fame is all about and the rest I can well imagine. But having looked it in the eye, so to speak, seeing the good and the bad...well, for someone of my solitary nature it seemes to have more burdens than rewards...and that's all I'm going to say for now....so, Bye Until Next Time!