Confessing … November 21st, 2015

 Jonathots Daily Blog

(2753)

XXIX.

I confess so I can heal.

If I deny, I remain sick.

Matt was a minister.

He also was a singer.

He decided he wanted to record what I called a “Twinkie.” It was a 45 R.P.M. record with an A and B side. I called them Twinkies because they were small, delicious and you only had to record two songs to brag about having a record.

Matt came to me because I was only twenty-one years old, sang, played an instrument, had done some vocal arrangements for local gospel quartets, and had written two songs and recorded them, putting out my own Twinkie.

In my little town, I seemed to be a kind of superstar. I enjoyed it. I was a big frog in a cardboard box, content with the air holes provided.

Matt wanted to pay me to produce his record. I said yes.

We had numerous meetings, set a date, and Matt thought that all systems were go.

Here’s the problem: I didn’t do anything.

I didn’t work on the songs, I didn’t hire the musicians, I didn’t even book the studio, although I told him I did.

I lied.

Why? Because I loved the notion of being creative, but despised the footwork.

Matt became a little suspicious. He asked a bunch of questions about the plans. I decided to act offended over his doubt. He immediately backed off.

So Matt arrived at the studio to meet with me on the day I told him we were scheduled, only to discover there was no session planned, and I was nowhere to be found. This was before the time of cell phones and texting, so Matt was stuck with these strangers, hoping I would arrive any minute to straighten things out.

I never arrived.

Matter of fact, I never contacted Matt again.

About six months later, he caught up with me in a shopping mall. I can still remember the chill that went down my spine when he walked up to me and simply asked, “Hey, what happened with the recording session?”

I struggled to make two or three excuses, and he interrupted me and said, “It was really weird. When you didn’t show up, the recording engineer had time available, and he and I sat down together, arranged the music, and I recorded my songs.”

I felt so embarrassed, stupid and strangely affronted. After all, how could Matt make a good record without me?

He didn’t hang around to talk much more.

He just walked away into history.

I learned a lot through that experience, which I continue to still learn.

There is no such thing as talent without integrity. When we attempt to promote it, it ends up being like a lovely sandwich … discovered in a mud puddle.

 

Confessing microphone

 

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