Sick Stooges

Recently at LuLu’s North Myrtle Beach, my brother and I played Skynyrd’s “Freebird. I am sure most people are joking when they shout that out at live shows because shouting out “Freebird” is a thing – so much so that a new response to the request – two middle fingers up with a “ But we did a short version of the song, complete with piano and guitar solos – and people loved it. I also like the idea of playing snippets of other songs that people request.

I am a friendly guy – and people kept coming into the store. I imagined that many people don’t ascribe this edginess to a lack of nourishment, but rather it becomes some sort of existential dread… I can see why. If we don’t understand what’s going on in our bodies on a physical level, our default is sometimes to blame our minds for our sense of ennui or unease There is a good reason you feel like bitch-slapping a complete stranger, and you don’t

In voice class, another professor named Wes Abbott knew I was struggling with the high range. ’s mother seemed relieved when she met me in person, because I sounded like “a used car salesman from Van Nuys” when I called for the first time to speak to her. When I was growing up, a vast majority of rock singers – and pop singers for that matter – seemed to ascend into the heavens with their vocal ranges. Somebody once said I sounded like Elvis Costello, but he can sing higher.

With life spread out in front of a young person, the options seem endless and there is ample time to explore any avenue that appeals to them in the moment. If they are lucky, they have at least one parent on board with the concept – and luckier still if that parent encourages them to spread their wings far and wide. We can throw the proverbial dart and move toward one main thing while keeping our hearts and minds open to happy coincidences, serendipity and spontaneity. Can we move in the direction of that main thing without becoming so rigid that we cut off our ability to find joy in the realm of possibility?