#012 - Origins - pt. 2

SEPTEMBER 2018

So a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away…

It all began when I was about seven or eight years old, in a decade called the 1990s. It was a different age back then. The eighties were fading, television was still relevant, and the radio market was the only source of free music. I was a kid growing up in this world where every piece of relevant information was given to me—spoon-fed, to give an adage.

So many worlds left unexplored, so many thoughts unthought.

When spoon-fed bits of information, you become a parrot of points. The argument becomes more about reciting these talking points than an actual discussion with real outcomes.  The nineteen nineties were the last decade this was possible, and I may be part of the last generation ever to experience this phenomenon. Again, this was my childhood.

When given these talking points, it is easier to live, and a person can devote little time to delving into and exploring the topics themselves or thinking, to put it bluntly. Who has time for this when worrying about picking the kids up from school or getting a good grade on a test? It is, therefore, easier to parrot these points instead of devoting time to exploring topics. 

I feel a person who is strongly secure in their beliefs can explore any topic in depth for understanding and become a better-enlightened person.

When you are disconnected from one another, everyone who does not look and act like you becomes foreign. When distance is all you know, exploring other topics becomes meaningless because there is no reason to do so. Connection to another creates understanding and common ground, while disconnection creates misunderstanding. There was no mass internet in the early 1990s, but this began a long time ago.

The jet age and world peace.

An example could be a walled-off city or, topically, a world without the internet or the jet airplane. Juan Trippe, the founder of Pan American, is rumored to have said that jet travel would bring about world peace. This example is metaphorically and beautifully linked to connection, which creates understanding. When we connect rapidly, albeit artificially, we can see similarities in others that are lost when information is limited. Veils are lifted, and our differences become cherished commodities.

In war games, millions of lives are affected due to misinformation, which is why so much time and money is devoted to reconnaissance. Lack of connection becomes a point of strife to the point that spying to gain information becomes the only option! And so much money is devoted to doing so.

To reiterate- disconnected people have a proclivity for misunderstanding.

In the age of the internet, this can be circumvented, connections can be established, and differences become more like unique traits. Culture becomes appreciated and uncensored. Furthermore, humanity is cherished because we are, after all, human, every last one of us.  

Back to the story.

I tend to be distrustful of musicians. This relates to the next part of my story and is probably why I am so. I’ve been promised a lot of things, a lot of gigs and opportunities by people who are worship leaders or instrument players. Naturally, my interactions with anyone who fits this description have been at arm's length since. 

In 2008, I followed a musician up to South Carolina on the promise of a technical director job for which I wasn’t qualified. The executive pastor (church CFO) looked at me and said, "I give you a week." I lasted a year before returning to Atlanta, burnt and worn out with a car full of furniture and a head full of memories. 

I was so burned out on Christianity that I didn’t go to church for at least another six months. I took a job at Banana Republic and Starbucks to make money, and before I knew it, I was further away from God than ever. I was living life how I wanted because of my past relationship with Christianity, and as a result, I was going down a path that God wanted me to see but was ultimately not the path he wanted me to be on. Perspective is everything to a twenty-year-old.

One morning, I felt pretty good and was determined to set aside any angst or strife I felt with Christianity and try to go to this place I’d heard of a million times. The place I told you about at the beginning of the story. Don’t think you know where I’m going because I didn’t hear a voice from God or a message from the stage that profoundly moved me. I did, however, run into an old friend and mentor who happened to be looking for me, and he and I had no idea. 

That was the God moment of that Sunday, and this friend asked me if I would fill in for him because he was going out of town in a few weeks. I hadn’t consistently gone to church in almost a year, and he allowed me to make a little money and be at this place I had only dreamt of being at when I was a teenager. 

In another six months of working with him and running lights once or twice a month, I was introduced to someone who connected me with a Christian artist looking for a lighting tech to tour with them. Next thing I know, I’m being bussed around the country, setting up and fixing lights, pulling backdrops from kabuki releases, and slowly learning to love the craft of lighting and touring. That year changed my life and made me choose the career in lighting that I love and cherish today.

God placed me into my own story to pick up right where I left off. It was like walking away from Christianity is only ever hitting the pause button and never rewinding. I texted this friend recently: God is still with us even when we’re far from God. We’re the ones just hitting pause. 

Touring the country and getting to know America.

I quit smoking in August of 2018 and am now trying to quit nicotine altogether. When I was on the road, I smoked a pack a day and often sat up front with the driver in the “jump seat” smoking. The driver wouldn’t mind if I didn’t blow smoke in the cab, and I was rewarded by hearing their road stories. Since this writing is about my life, I will have to write those down later. 

I spent the next two years touring with various artists and problem-solving daily. I’ve seen gear hauled up staircases and placed in impossible locations. I have seen shows run off of wall outlets and generators blow black smoke, but most importantly, I have met America, and boy, is she a doll. From accents to scenery to food to colloquialisms, the country I belong to is one of diversity as much as unity. One could say we become united through our diversity. 

This writing is more about personal journeys and experiences in your own diverse life as it is in mine. Remember Eileen from the beginning of the story? She was living her best life all the time, and her journey was as diverse from mine as it was personal. That is Christianity, and I’ve found it true about this one true religion. Everyone who is changed by its influence cannot escape or run too far, and it is one of the most enduring testaments to me that proves it is the only way to salvation. For something to be all-inclusive, it must also be personal; placing personal beliefs onto another person is not what Christianity is about.  

We all find meaning in our walks of life, but our walks are our own. We are here to influence each other positively and encourage each other daily. Eileen does this well. I struggle at times, but at the end of the day, I’m sure Eileen struggles too. I’m sure those we look up to and see as heroes are still limited to being human, and I believe if they weren’t, we wouldn’t see them as relatable heroes.

Sonny Dispositions.

I met with many different personalities during my life's touring phase or “tour era” (Thanks Tay-Swift). I mentioned smoking earlier because I tried to quit smoking at another time in my life. It was a Christian tour, after all. 

A rigger named Sonny was out with us, working as our stage manager. His name was both a misnomer and ironic, for his disposition was less than that when you've suddenly found yourself on his stormy side. He had the look and stature of a bulldog with a nasty bite to match his war-worn look. One fateful night, I was on edge because of the nicotine withdrawals, and he was on edge because the promoter had not provided enough labor. I asked when I was gonna get some help; he physically pinned me up against the wall for the way I said it. It taught me a very important lesson: tone and environment are everything. So, watch your tone and know your environment, or you may be in a similar situation. Also, make your appointments, especially when they are your heroes. Thanks for the forgiveness, Eileen.