…continued.
First things first, New York is VERY different from the West! I can still remember flying in and seeing farmland and fields, lakes and rivers…the deer!?! The change in scenery proved to be only the first of many culture shocks we had those first few years.
We started off living in our relative’s basements, then moved into our first apartments in WNY. Despite the fact my mother was a teacher (graduated in the top 3% of the nation in college. Now is probably not the time to discuss the appalling way we treat our educators both financially and professionally, but we do.), times were tough and we had to rely on welfare, food stamps and church donations & clergy. Sister Helen of St. John’s in Lockport, NY would bring bags of food by every week…ironic because we would bring in cans like the rest of the kids for food drives, but then we would see some of those same cans later that week in our own kitchen. But it was exactly those times which forged my opinions on social responsibility. Here we were, poor and hungry…yet my mother still taught us to give of what little we had to try and help those who were even less fortunate than us. *** Social programs like Medicare, Medicaid, Welfare, Food Stamps and HEAP all played a central role in our opportunity to SURVIVE. Not succeed, not be comfortable, but survive. The Goodwill, Child Care Tax Credit, Low Income Tax Credit… all programs/assistance designed to help those who try, but are unable to help themselves.(Stepping off political soap-box now) ***
So during this time, I was also navigating through the all too familiar “adolescent bullying” faze. Yet again in my young life I was confronted by the unique dichotomy of human beings… capability to bring happiness & compassion or to bring sadness & pain. But it’s not like I made it tough for them either. I was short & skinny with thick glasses, a lisp (until 6th grade), Goodwill cloths and I loved music (chorus & band). I was a walking punchline. Even Napoleon Dynamite would have teased me. But it was also during this time I began singing and performing in public…odd, I know. By 10 yrs old I was featured in a local high school’s version of “Music Man”, playing Winthrop (more irony, a child with social anxiety and a lisp). The experience lit a fire in me, leading to more high school productions, local & regional theater and a renewed focus in chorus and band. It saved me. These forays into the “make believe” aloud me to escape from my own turbulent life and feel an acceptance and compassion I would look to later in life.
Still not yet in my teens, I also started Boy Scouts. I know, I know… cheesy uniforms, bad PR rap etc. But the Boy Scouts were a HUGE part of my youth for a bunch of reasons. I was the only boy in a house with my mother and 2 sisters, my grandfather (whom I will get to soon) wasn’t in good enough health to be “too active”, so these were the only guys I got to be around. Though the experience wasn’t perfect, I did learn how to be part of a team, the meaning of the words “Honor” and “Duty”, how to survive in the woods on almost nothing.
Also during this time, we stayed with my grandparents A LOT! Everyday after school we walked to their house (back when kids used to walk), ate dinner and did homework. My grandfather taught me to play catch, to play cards and harass my grandmother. He told me stories about the WWII, playing football (which though I repeated tried, couldn’t do because of my lack of kidney) and his kindergarten class which he could remember every student. NUTS! I can’t even remember ANY class, let alone kindergarten. (I miss them both so much now. What I wouldn’t do to hear his voice again, smell her cooking in the kitchen when we came home, watch John Wayne re-runs or hear him yell from the living room, “Mother, leave the boy alone”.) I am so happy she never did.
Looking back now, my fortunes seem so unbalanced. We were in complete poverty with a single mother working all of the time to raise her 3 children, yet we had such a strong family bond. We were connected. That bond kept me away from the drugs, crime and gangs that the other kids in our financial situation turned to. The people in my life worked so hard, DESPITE ME, to instill values, responsibility and respect in me. We didn’t have nice shoes or clothes, but we did HAVE shoes and clothes. We didn’t have expensive food, but we didn’t go hungry. They always reminded me that there were people with less and it was MY responsibility to help them. We took care of each other. I’ve never been arrested or accused of a crime, never vandalized or hurt someone and never been in much trouble. Looking back now, even with all the trauma, I wouldn’t have wanted to grown up any other way.
Throughout all of these experiences, there was music EVERYWHERE! My chorus friends introduced me to The Temptations, Al Green, Bill Withers and Opera. The guys in Boy Scouts showed me Soundgarden, Led Zeppelin, Pearl Jam and Metallica. The college kids in the community theater I participated in played Phish, Moxy Frufus and The Band and uncles played nothing but George Strait, Garth Brooks and Hank Williams. It was also during this time that I discovered my mothers record collection of the Mamas and the Papas, Joni Mitchell, Laura Nero, Bob Dylan and Santana. But some of these musicians and records though were still “peripheral” to me. Some were impersonal or foreign. I felt the pleading in Al Green, the earnest passion of Otis Redding, the focused frustration of Soundgarden, but it would take me until I was 15 before I became invigorated by the music. Before it influenced my life.
So 12 years down, 17 to go! Another big move, family breaks up…and I discover my life’s work.
to be continued…
