In a few months I will be 60 years of age and, as in the past, I usually spend the year before these milestone birthdays acclimating myself to my new surroundings by reminiscing about the past and trying to map out the future. Recollecting the history of my triumphs and failures is the easy part of the equation; disseminating all the previous information and trying to create a cohesive plan for the imminent change becomes the challenge. Nevertheless, by the time of my birthday, I have already accepted and settled into my new decade armed with the wisdom of the past and a blueprint for the upcoming years. Ha ha ha! As John Lennon once said "Life is what happens while you are busy making other plans."
Actually, the only blueprint I have is one I have drawn up for the past, where I can trace my wanderings and truly see how the choices I made affected my life and brought me to where am now. With 20/20 hindsight, I am able to clearly see my successes as well as all the missed opportunities that crossed my path. The interesting thing is that while my chosen vocation is – and has been – a career that has taken place over a span of four decades I still don't think of what I do as an occupation as much as I perceive it as lifestyle.
As is the case with many of my contemporaries, I started out as a musician looking for the "Big Deal" that was going to propel me towards fame and fortune. Unfortunately, while I have had my share of success as a player – even a record deal or two – the fame and fortune part of the equation has eluded my grasp. That said; a funny thing happened on my way to the elusive fame and fortune. At a time when many of my colleagues ended up forsaking their musical careers to raise families and settle down into a more 9 to 5 existence I was presented with the opportunity to become an audio engineer. So I did! After all, it was better than driving a cab, painting apartments or a thousand other jobs that were totally unrelated to music.
Right Place, Right Time
Eventually, what started as a means to support my playing habit turned into a lucrative job, which provided me with a nice income and took me around the world mixing audio for some great bands. Opportunities arose, and soon I was running clubs, producing festivals and doing production in major theaters and venues. Another prospect came my way, and I then found myself booking major artists for home concerts and corporate events. In retrospect, I must confess that these were not shrewd moves on behalf of a savvy businessman; I was just at the right place at the right time and took advantage of the opportunities that were presented to me. Granted, in many cases I was equipped with only a vague idea and the self-confidence of ignorance, but somehow I made it work so that I could keep supporting the way of life to which I had become accustomed. Believe it or not, as I traveled this path, I became a professional writer for various audio magazines and, when the opportunity presented itself, I even found myself teaching live audio at a Manhattan school that went by the name of "Center for the Media Arts." Then, just to make things interesting, I got married and decided to raise a family.
Glamour vs. Family
For the longest time, I embraced the "glamorous" lifestyle I always wanted by traveling around the globe and working with world-renowned musicians but, as most everyone knows, this "glamorous" lifestyle is not always the perfect match for a family and home life. Owing to a business which usually requires a minimum 12-hour day and late nights, even managing a music venue and doing productions within close proximity to home does not lend itself to a serene home life. Over time, and due to necessity, my road trips became more infrequent and, while late nights and long hours for shows still prevailed, I somehow managed to be part of my family.
Ironically, I rarely go out on shows any more – nor do care to do so – and, to my surprise, the call of the road that once beckoned me has been quieted. I'm not sure if my Odyssey is complete, but the Siren's song does not lure me as it once did, and I don't have the need to lash myself to the mast to still my temptation. In recent times, my road trips have been comprised of my long commute to and from work, and I can only attribute my tolerance for this commute to the "Road Warrior" part of my personality. I have a restless nature and a need to be on the move and doing something at all times. Since I enjoy action and motion and take pleasure in the company of many people, I am comfortable when I am engaged with multiple projects involving a multitude of people.
A Common Bond
I suppose I could have chosen to be a lawyer, a doctor or a stock broker since many of the qualities I describe could be associated with those professions. Of course, that wouldn't have satisfied my basic need because, most of all, I like music, sound and the adrenaline associated with doing a live show; not to mention the fact that I can spend most of my time at work wearing T-shirts and jeans. My choices in terms of vocation were, and are, driven by my emotional desires as well as my practical requirements, and in that way I feel I am no different from most people I meet in this business. From the younger novices to the seasoned tour veterans, it seems that the music is first and foremost in their decision to join the ranks of the live show corps of engineers and technicians.
I cannot speak for anyone else, but, over time, my needs have changed in accordance with the axiom "Life is what happens while you are busy making other plans." Obviously, money plays a large part of the equation, since a vocation without money is an avocation. As a hobby, our line of work would be a tedious process unless one was endowed with a large trust fund, but money alone is not the first consideration behind our professional preference. Our career choice may be an outcome of a main desire to be involved with music and live events, but because of our emotional makeup, it is exactly all the rest, which shapes the way one stays involved with our profession and lifestyle of choice.
