While serving in the US Army Signal Corp in the late 80's I finally had the opportunity to get a 35mm camera. I did my usual research for something I was interested in. I learned about f-stops, shutter speeds, film speeds, as well as artistic techniques such as framing, light, texture, and dimension. I would go on walks just to take pictures. My eye began to develop due to study and practice of the art, and was soon taking some decent pictures. When I got out the Army my camera starting having problems so I took it to a shop to have it repaired. They called and told me the camera was worn out, and it would cost more to repair it than the camera was worth. That was the end of that.
This past Christmas my girlfriend, Kristi, decided to get herself a new Digital SLR. I was was staying at her house while I attended a Landmark class. It was 2300 when I got home from class. She excitedly ask me if I wanted to see the camera, I said yes, and she hands it to me. I looked it over, and except for the LCD screen it looks like any other SLR I have ever held. I told her it looked like an awesome camera and was looking forward to seeing her photos. I handed her the camera back and walked into the kitchen to grab a beer. I sat down at the kitchen table and begin reviewing my notes from class, and looking over the assignment for the upcoming week. Kristi walked through the kitchen, and I could sense something was wrong. I ask her what's wrong, and I get nothing.
She was sitting on the couch and I sit down beside her and ask what's wrong. Still no answer. Finally she says she's upset due to my response to her new camera. My immediate reaction is what did I do wrong? I acknowledged the camera, told her how bad ass it was, and I looked forward to seeing her pictures. What more was there to say? While I am rolling this around in my head she goes out side to smoke a cigarette. I am sitting there still trying to figure out what I did wrong. In my minds eye I had done the appropriate wow.
Then I began to see something I had not seen at the time, and it was ugly, really ugly. This ugliness was jealousy. The love of my life had got her dream camera, and as opposed to being really happy for her, I was jealous. I felt sick. I went outside and told her I was sorry for my reaction, and that I had no idea I was presenting myself that way. I explained to her that I was extremely jealous of her new camera. Thank God she has a big heart, because I hurt her deeply. She accepted my apology and my honesty.
It's scary to see who we really are, not who we think we are. Most of us are pretending to be pretty people, the pretty people we think we are. When you come face to face with reality it's a disgusting feeling.
I remember another example of this. I attended the final night of Lesley's Forum to see what it was all about. After talking with Lesley I decided to sign up for the class. We went to the registration table to fill out the paperwork. Everything was going just fine until we got to the question about what I wanted to get out of the Forum. The people at the registration table told me I could put down anything I wanted. I looked at the entry and there were a bunch of blank lines. I thought about it for a moment and boiled it all down to one thing, in a very simple statement. "Freedom from fear". I told them that was it. They told me I could put as much as I wanted in the blank space, and I told them that was it. They kept prodding me, and I remember telling them if I could conquer my fear everything else would fall into place. They kept on, and I remember jokingly telling them that was all I wanted.
I attended the Forum the first week in December. Sunday night, after 2 long days of struggle, I got it. I had found the silence of my mind, I had transformed. The last night of my class I ask Lesley to come with me, since she had exposed me to the Forum. After the class was over, she wanted me to meet Amanda one of the girls working at the registration table. Lesley introduced us again, and she remembered me instantly. She put on a mock angry face and said "Freedom from fear!" Then she said something about the change in my face and how proud she was I finished the Forum.
The angry face I was presenting, was very nasty. Same thing with the camera. How I thought I was being was, way off from what I was actually being. This is sickening reality to face, and takes a lot of fortitude to do so.
The chatterbox creates that false reality for us. It does so seamlessly and we never notice it. It is very common to think we are our little voice, since we have had it for as long as we remember. The chatterbox is a very complicated little critter once you start to pay attention to it, and that is the first step to getting control over your little voice. First you acknowledge it, then you pay attention to it.
The reality is you are not your internal dialog.
Monday, February 9, 2009
Thursday, February 5, 2009
The Power of Sharing
Sharing is such a simple act. We acknowledge when others do it, and feel good about ourselves when we participate in the gesture. Is there more to this practice of sharing than feeling good? I believe there is. All relationships depend upon communication, this is a form of sharing. Could it be said that this exchange of words and feelings is the glue that bonds people together? Granted the intent of the exchange is important to understand. Communication in the form of demands can cause problems, as choice has been eliminated.
I have witnessed the power of sharing in the Landmark Forum. From sharing in a group, with a partner, or observing others share and being engaged in what is going on. It produces a sense of connection to something larger than ourselves. Sharing gives us access to a potent force that can have a profound affect on not only ourselves, but others as well.
A perfect example. My Mother is a technophobe in the most extreme sense of the word. I can remember my sister buying a CD player and some CD's for my Mom many years ago. Although she loves music she would not touch the player, it was information overload, causing her to shut down. The CD player did nothing but collect dust.
This past Christmas my sister, Lesley and her husband, came home for the holidays. She had a new I-phone that she was showing us. Lesley took advantage of having an internet connection by showing Mom a music video on You Tube. Lesley picked a tune from the early 70's that Mom had a strong connection to. Mom became interested instantly, and Lesley played another video. Then to engage Mom Lesley ask her to pick a song. Mom thought for a second and came up with a title, Lesley found the song and played it. Mom then came up with another title Lesley found it and played it.
We were all sitting in the living room and the anticipated football game came on, so the focus in the room changed, but Mom was still coming up with song titles and Lesley was running them down on the internet. They finally went to the bedroom to continue this call and response type of sharing. An hour or so went by and it was time for me to leave. I went to the bedroom to let them know I was leaving, and they were still going strong. I smiled bid my adieu, and headed home. I found out later that this sharing went on late into the night and continued the next day. Lesley had connected with Mom through music.
The holidays passed Lesley and her husband headed home, and life seemed to go back to normal. A couple of weeks after this event, unbeknownst to me, Mom called Lesley and ask if she could find her a personal CD player. My technophobe Mother asking for a CD player! Lesley found her a Walkman type CD player and picked up a Creedence Clearwater Revival CD. I was in Austin the following week for a Landmark class, and Lesley told me about what was going on. She asked me to take the CD player to her and explain to her how to operate it.
On my way home from Austin I stopped in to give Mom the gifts Lesley had sent. To explain the operation of the player I had to put the CD in the player as an example. The moment I hit play Mom's face lit up like a Christmas tree. It was the most incredible sight to behold. I sat there in amazement not wanting to finish explaining the rest of the button functions, as that would interrupt the moment. Finally the song ended and I finished explaining how to operate it.
On my way home I was thinking about what I had observed. Lesley had created a possibility of connection, for herself, by sharing music. That opened up the possibility for my Mother to overcome her fear of technology so she could connect to the music she has always loved.
This is the power of sharing.
I have witnessed the power of sharing in the Landmark Forum. From sharing in a group, with a partner, or observing others share and being engaged in what is going on. It produces a sense of connection to something larger than ourselves. Sharing gives us access to a potent force that can have a profound affect on not only ourselves, but others as well.
A perfect example. My Mother is a technophobe in the most extreme sense of the word. I can remember my sister buying a CD player and some CD's for my Mom many years ago. Although she loves music she would not touch the player, it was information overload, causing her to shut down. The CD player did nothing but collect dust.
This past Christmas my sister, Lesley and her husband, came home for the holidays. She had a new I-phone that she was showing us. Lesley took advantage of having an internet connection by showing Mom a music video on You Tube. Lesley picked a tune from the early 70's that Mom had a strong connection to. Mom became interested instantly, and Lesley played another video. Then to engage Mom Lesley ask her to pick a song. Mom thought for a second and came up with a title, Lesley found the song and played it. Mom then came up with another title Lesley found it and played it.
We were all sitting in the living room and the anticipated football game came on, so the focus in the room changed, but Mom was still coming up with song titles and Lesley was running them down on the internet. They finally went to the bedroom to continue this call and response type of sharing. An hour or so went by and it was time for me to leave. I went to the bedroom to let them know I was leaving, and they were still going strong. I smiled bid my adieu, and headed home. I found out later that this sharing went on late into the night and continued the next day. Lesley had connected with Mom through music.
The holidays passed Lesley and her husband headed home, and life seemed to go back to normal. A couple of weeks after this event, unbeknownst to me, Mom called Lesley and ask if she could find her a personal CD player. My technophobe Mother asking for a CD player! Lesley found her a Walkman type CD player and picked up a Creedence Clearwater Revival CD. I was in Austin the following week for a Landmark class, and Lesley told me about what was going on. She asked me to take the CD player to her and explain to her how to operate it.
On my way home from Austin I stopped in to give Mom the gifts Lesley had sent. To explain the operation of the player I had to put the CD in the player as an example. The moment I hit play Mom's face lit up like a Christmas tree. It was the most incredible sight to behold. I sat there in amazement not wanting to finish explaining the rest of the button functions, as that would interrupt the moment. Finally the song ended and I finished explaining how to operate it.
On my way home I was thinking about what I had observed. Lesley had created a possibility of connection, for herself, by sharing music. That opened up the possibility for my Mother to overcome her fear of technology so she could connect to the music she has always loved.
This is the power of sharing.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Tree Cemetery
Driving home from Austin Tuesday, I was looking for dead trees. Now that I am actually taking pictures, my awareness has increased dramatically. Most of the trees that I photographed I had noticed before, not this one.
I was coming out of a river bottom and just happen to glance off to my left at the last second and I spotted this incredible sight in the distance. I made a U-turn and headed back to the tree. I parked my truck walked up the hill to the fence line and stared in amazement at what was before me. This incredibly inspiring tree, standing alone, with a cemetery right behind it! When I first spied the tree I could not see the tombstones behind it as my vantage point from the road was too low. As I stood at the fence line I knew my camera would not zoom close enough to frame the shot properly. I am very leery of hopping fences, even though all I want to do is take a few photos, yet this tree called to me. I surveyed the pasture to make sure there were no critters to contend with, and over the fence I went.
As I got closer to the tree the beauty and power really began to stand out. The contrast and texture was so rich I was completely taken over by the sight. I framed it up from 3 different angles and took 15 shots. I finished turned my camera off, and started walking back to the truck. When I approached the fence line I turned to look at the tree one more time. It was irresistible. I turned the camera on, set it to color, and snapped one more shot, a reference of what I first saw.
The Monkey In The Jungle
I was typing an e-mail to a friend describing my loss of center. As I was typing, a story about my chatterbox began to unfold. When all was said and done I had actually defined my chatterbox in a way I had never thought of before.
In the e-mail I began describing the racket in my head as a "900 pound gorilla on the loose" and that caused me to think. "If it's 900 pound gorilla when I loose my center what would it be when I was focused?" It dawned on me that it would be monkey. Then I began to think, "What kind of monkey?" As I sat there I began to visualize a chimpanzee and I thought "That can't be right" my chatterbox is a vile disgusting thing not a cute chimp, but the visual would not go away. Then I began to realize it was a chimp, but with the attitude of one of those small hyper/aggressive monkeys. Now it was beginning to make sense. It looks cute as a way to trick me into thinking it is harmless, but in reality it's the nasty abuser it has always been. Then I began to visualize the monkey loose in the jungle of my mind, and it all came together.
Living my life is like walking through a jungle never knowing what is fixing to happen, and my monkey is always with me. It use to be that the monkey would set on my shoulder and harass me constantly. Now that I have a degree of control over it, it follows me through the jungle. Sometimes it is real close, screaming at me, and other times it's distant still harassing me from afar. The funny thing is how tricky the little bastard is! I can hear him in the distance and then instantly he is popping out of the foilage in front of me, scaring the daylights out of me. I am not quite sure how I know its a male. Maybe I just figure that a female could never be that crude.
When I lost my center my little monkey became a gorilla in an instant. The racket inside my head was horrendous. After being in relative silence for over a month it was amazing to realize how loud the noise use to be. It was a very scary sensation, it literally petrified me. I could not think, nor could I take action. I was frozen in my tracks.
Once my sister shared the tool with me I needed, my gorilla instantly became the monkey again. I know my monkey will always be with me, and it will be a constant battle to keep him in perspective.
The monkey is loose in the jungle of my mind, and life is as it should be.
In the e-mail I began describing the racket in my head as a "900 pound gorilla on the loose" and that caused me to think. "If it's 900 pound gorilla when I loose my center what would it be when I was focused?" It dawned on me that it would be monkey. Then I began to think, "What kind of monkey?" As I sat there I began to visualize a chimpanzee and I thought "That can't be right" my chatterbox is a vile disgusting thing not a cute chimp, but the visual would not go away. Then I began to realize it was a chimp, but with the attitude of one of those small hyper/aggressive monkeys. Now it was beginning to make sense. It looks cute as a way to trick me into thinking it is harmless, but in reality it's the nasty abuser it has always been. Then I began to visualize the monkey loose in the jungle of my mind, and it all came together.
Living my life is like walking through a jungle never knowing what is fixing to happen, and my monkey is always with me. It use to be that the monkey would set on my shoulder and harass me constantly. Now that I have a degree of control over it, it follows me through the jungle. Sometimes it is real close, screaming at me, and other times it's distant still harassing me from afar. The funny thing is how tricky the little bastard is! I can hear him in the distance and then instantly he is popping out of the foilage in front of me, scaring the daylights out of me. I am not quite sure how I know its a male. Maybe I just figure that a female could never be that crude.
When I lost my center my little monkey became a gorilla in an instant. The racket inside my head was horrendous. After being in relative silence for over a month it was amazing to realize how loud the noise use to be. It was a very scary sensation, it literally petrified me. I could not think, nor could I take action. I was frozen in my tracks.
Once my sister shared the tool with me I needed, my gorilla instantly became the monkey again. I know my monkey will always be with me, and it will be a constant battle to keep him in perspective.
The monkey is loose in the jungle of my mind, and life is as it should be.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Centered
Living in that somewhat "elusive" space of being focused on the moment is an incredible challenge. There are different degrees of "losing it", as we swim in the sea of possibility. Some times it's a little wobble, and sometimes it's a big wobble, but you can still stop the wobble, and gain control over your internal dialog...your chatterbox.
I have read The Power of Now, by Tolle, and it was was a powerful, moving, experience. Yet, I felt like a little man looking at a mountain, with a big ball, I am supposed to push up this hill. I would push the ball up the mountain and get it to the top. The ball would balance for just a brief moment, and fall to the other side. I would climb down the mountain, walk around to the ball and begin to push it up the mountain, and again the ball would balance for a moment, and then roll down the other side. On and on this went, as the moment I had the ball balanced, a brand new world opened up. I just could not balance the ball.
Once you find a way to balance the ball, it becomes easier...and when the ball slips a little you know how to catch it, and return to center. Today, I lost the ball, the mountain, all of it, due to the racket/noise in my head.
Thanks to my amazing sister, I am now centered again. She has done the Landmark forum, as well as the Advanced course, and is an incredible coach. Even though she is my sister, she ain't pullin' no punches. She went in to the trenches with me and shared a tool to see where I was going wrong.
"Stop fighting it, by fighting it you are feeding it"
That brought everything back to center...the silence...
"Hey Todd...Let go of the banana!"
Peace All!
I have read The Power of Now, by Tolle, and it was was a powerful, moving, experience. Yet, I felt like a little man looking at a mountain, with a big ball, I am supposed to push up this hill. I would push the ball up the mountain and get it to the top. The ball would balance for just a brief moment, and fall to the other side. I would climb down the mountain, walk around to the ball and begin to push it up the mountain, and again the ball would balance for a moment, and then roll down the other side. On and on this went, as the moment I had the ball balanced, a brand new world opened up. I just could not balance the ball.
Once you find a way to balance the ball, it becomes easier...and when the ball slips a little you know how to catch it, and return to center. Today, I lost the ball, the mountain, all of it, due to the racket/noise in my head.
Thanks to my amazing sister, I am now centered again. She has done the Landmark forum, as well as the Advanced course, and is an incredible coach. Even though she is my sister, she ain't pullin' no punches. She went in to the trenches with me and shared a tool to see where I was going wrong.
"Stop fighting it, by fighting it you are feeding it"
That brought everything back to center...the silence...
"Hey Todd...Let go of the banana!"
Peace All!
My Chatterbox
You know that internal dialog you have with yourself? That is what I call my "Chatterbox". My chatterbox, is a very ugly, vile thing, that can be quite nasty and mean. Recently, through the Landmark Forum, I learned to control the chatterbox to a degree. When I am really focused and centered the chatterbox get's pushed way into the background. When the chatterbox tries to come back, I can usually push it away. When I am not focused, the chatterbox is around in varying degrees. Since my completion of the Forum in early December, I have been in control more or less of the little box.
Today, I lost my focus, and the chatterbox is in complete control, which is not a good feeling.
I am in a Landmark seminar, and the assignment was to be unreasonable at least once every day. For the first 7 days, I was unreasonable at least once a day. We all have our reasons why we can't do this or we can't do that. Those reasons are a byproduct of our little voice...the chatterbox. So, in essence the assignment was an exercise in getting control over the internal dialog.
Yesterday, I was not unreasonable, not intentionally anyway.
I made a commitment to do my homework assignments in this seminar. I broke that commitment, and therefore I have gone back on my word. This is where I began to loose my focus. Once I lost my center, the chatterbox took over, and it's beating me up with a vengeance. It almost seems as though it is making up for lost time. It is not a pretty space I am in, and it's not getting better.
I must find my center...
Today, I lost my focus, and the chatterbox is in complete control, which is not a good feeling.
I am in a Landmark seminar, and the assignment was to be unreasonable at least once every day. For the first 7 days, I was unreasonable at least once a day. We all have our reasons why we can't do this or we can't do that. Those reasons are a byproduct of our little voice...the chatterbox. So, in essence the assignment was an exercise in getting control over the internal dialog.
Yesterday, I was not unreasonable, not intentionally anyway.
I made a commitment to do my homework assignments in this seminar. I broke that commitment, and therefore I have gone back on my word. This is where I began to loose my focus. Once I lost my center, the chatterbox took over, and it's beating me up with a vengeance. It almost seems as though it is making up for lost time. It is not a pretty space I am in, and it's not getting better.
I must find my center...
Sunday, January 11, 2009
"Ok, We're Rolling...On Two"
Ever since I can remember I have wanted a drum set. I can remember being about 10 or 11, and digging different sizes of boxes out of a nearby dumpster. I drug the boxes home and assembled them in the walk in closet in the shape of a drum set. There were probably 5 or 6 boxes total. I went to the kitchen and raided Mom's large spoon drawer for some large wooden spoons. I "borrowed" Dad's AM/FM radio, which was pretty big for that era and had plenty of volume. Tuned in a Top 40 radio station and began playing my "drum set". I think Mom lost more spoons through my drum set adventures.
Years later when I was 15 or so, I got a little more inventive with drum set creations. By this time I had my own room separate from the house. I had an old recliner that I would tilt back for the perfect "tom" height, put a hardshelled suitcase on the floor for the base drum, and I had gone to the lumber yard and bought a dowel rod and cut to the approximate size of drum sticks. I sat all this up near a wall in my room so I could use that as a ride cymbal. By this time I had a stereo and albums. I was jammin'.
Finally in 1977 I had saved enough money at a part time job to get a used drum set. Whoo Hoo! The real thing! I was playing every day to all kinds of music, Legs Diamond, Moxy, Rush, Kansas anything I could get my hands on. Mom became kind of concerned as she saw "Rock Star" all over my face. How is it Moms know everything? One day she asked me "What are you going to do with your life if you don't make it as a rock star?" That was an interesting question that I did not have an answer for.
So I thought about it for quite a while. I knew I wanted to be involved in music some how, but if I could not play what would I do. Then it dawned on me, I would be a recording engineer, I could actually be involved in making music, just not performing. Even at that age, I could see one the benefits of being an Audio Engineer, I would not have to be on the road all the time...go figure. Mom and I never finished that conversation, but I had solidified the thought of being an AE in my head.
In 1980 it was time to graduate from High School. I knew what I wanted to do, there was just no financial way to pull it off. Back in those days very few Colleges had Audio Engineering programs. There was an independent tech school in Florida that was offered an associates in Audio Engineering, but the school was not accredited, therefore no traditional funding sources were available. So, after graduation I attended a local Junior College for three semesters floundering around in the Liberal Arts program. I really felt like I was wasting my time so I dropped out.
I was going through some counselling at the college I had been attending, and the councillor had a contact to somebody in the music industry. She did some research and found out about a class put on by the RIAA at a major studio in San Antonio. The cost was around $500 and it was a 40 hour hands on class. Mom and I talked about it, and she agreed to help me accomplish this goal. I was working for Holiday Inn at the time as a bartender, so I transferred to a Holiday Inn in San Antonio taking a job as banquette houseman. I stayed in a cheap hotel room until I could find some place to stay.
I will never forget walking into the studio the first time, I was completely awed! The live room was so huge, the grand piano looked tiny. The control room was equally impressive a 32 channel mixing board, 2 1/4 inch 24 track MTR, and outboard gear out the wazoo. I was completely dazzled. Most of the people in the class were there for fun, but I was there for business, the business of learning. I was taking notes in every class, and absorbing everything I could. To complete the class there was a final written test, and each student got a chance to mix down the material we had recorded earlier in the class. We also had a final interview. After reviewing the mix down I had done the engineer giving the class said he had noticed that I was taking the class very seriously. I told him that I wanted to be an AE. He said I had potential as my mix had impressed him. He told me that if this was what I really wanted to do, go to an electronics tech school, as studios will almost always take an intern with electronics in their background.
So, off I went searching for a school to attend in the San Antonio area. I did attend a tech school for a year and was doing good in class. Love ended up getting in the way, and I missed to many days in one semester and got booted from class. Funding dried up, and I ended up in the US Army Signal Corp.
My last duty station was a mountain top in Northern Germany with six guy on a Microwave radio site. I had been playing acoustic guitar as opposed to drums, as guitars fit better in a wall locker! So I was still playing music while I was in the service. The last 6 months I was in Germany, I decided I wanted to engineer and produce a demo tape. So, with three $20 mics bought at the PX, two cassette decks, my home stereo equipment, and a small consumer mixer, I worked my butt off in almost every spare minute I had, to track and mix a 7 song demo tape of my original music. I was proud of my accomplishment.
Upon honorable discharge from the Army in 1989, I went to work in Houston working in the telecommunications industry. I was making more money than I had ever made in my life and all of the money was going to buying gear and instruments. After 3 years of hard work, and a lot of luck, I ended up building a small demo studio. I began producing demos for local musicians and bands. I was having a blast and producing some pretty good recordings with the limited equipment I had. I was beginning to get a small reputation in certain circles as being a good engineer.
That all came to a screeching halt in 1996, when somebody decided they wanted my gear more than I did. They kicked open the front door and walked off with almost $8K in gear. By this time, technology had replaced my telecommunications job, so the good money I was making was not there anymore. I put what equipment was left in storage and gave up on my dream. I did not want to play anything, or have anything to do with music. Heck, I couldn't even listen to the radio for over 6 months.
Fastforward to 2004, I am out in the office, and I get the bug to play my acoustic. I dig it out of storage, tuned it up and played for almost 2 hours. The connection to the music was back, and along with it the desire to record again. I decided, it was time to begin the rebuilding process. Little by little, piece by piece, I am rebuilding the dream of playing and engineering/producing music.
Years later when I was 15 or so, I got a little more inventive with drum set creations. By this time I had my own room separate from the house. I had an old recliner that I would tilt back for the perfect "tom" height, put a hardshelled suitcase on the floor for the base drum, and I had gone to the lumber yard and bought a dowel rod and cut to the approximate size of drum sticks. I sat all this up near a wall in my room so I could use that as a ride cymbal. By this time I had a stereo and albums. I was jammin'.
Finally in 1977 I had saved enough money at a part time job to get a used drum set. Whoo Hoo! The real thing! I was playing every day to all kinds of music, Legs Diamond, Moxy, Rush, Kansas anything I could get my hands on. Mom became kind of concerned as she saw "Rock Star" all over my face. How is it Moms know everything? One day she asked me "What are you going to do with your life if you don't make it as a rock star?" That was an interesting question that I did not have an answer for.
So I thought about it for quite a while. I knew I wanted to be involved in music some how, but if I could not play what would I do. Then it dawned on me, I would be a recording engineer, I could actually be involved in making music, just not performing. Even at that age, I could see one the benefits of being an Audio Engineer, I would not have to be on the road all the time...go figure. Mom and I never finished that conversation, but I had solidified the thought of being an AE in my head.
In 1980 it was time to graduate from High School. I knew what I wanted to do, there was just no financial way to pull it off. Back in those days very few Colleges had Audio Engineering programs. There was an independent tech school in Florida that was offered an associates in Audio Engineering, but the school was not accredited, therefore no traditional funding sources were available. So, after graduation I attended a local Junior College for three semesters floundering around in the Liberal Arts program. I really felt like I was wasting my time so I dropped out.
I was going through some counselling at the college I had been attending, and the councillor had a contact to somebody in the music industry. She did some research and found out about a class put on by the RIAA at a major studio in San Antonio. The cost was around $500 and it was a 40 hour hands on class. Mom and I talked about it, and she agreed to help me accomplish this goal. I was working for Holiday Inn at the time as a bartender, so I transferred to a Holiday Inn in San Antonio taking a job as banquette houseman. I stayed in a cheap hotel room until I could find some place to stay.
I will never forget walking into the studio the first time, I was completely awed! The live room was so huge, the grand piano looked tiny. The control room was equally impressive a 32 channel mixing board, 2 1/4 inch 24 track MTR, and outboard gear out the wazoo. I was completely dazzled. Most of the people in the class were there for fun, but I was there for business, the business of learning. I was taking notes in every class, and absorbing everything I could. To complete the class there was a final written test, and each student got a chance to mix down the material we had recorded earlier in the class. We also had a final interview. After reviewing the mix down I had done the engineer giving the class said he had noticed that I was taking the class very seriously. I told him that I wanted to be an AE. He said I had potential as my mix had impressed him. He told me that if this was what I really wanted to do, go to an electronics tech school, as studios will almost always take an intern with electronics in their background.
So, off I went searching for a school to attend in the San Antonio area. I did attend a tech school for a year and was doing good in class. Love ended up getting in the way, and I missed to many days in one semester and got booted from class. Funding dried up, and I ended up in the US Army Signal Corp.
My last duty station was a mountain top in Northern Germany with six guy on a Microwave radio site. I had been playing acoustic guitar as opposed to drums, as guitars fit better in a wall locker! So I was still playing music while I was in the service. The last 6 months I was in Germany, I decided I wanted to engineer and produce a demo tape. So, with three $20 mics bought at the PX, two cassette decks, my home stereo equipment, and a small consumer mixer, I worked my butt off in almost every spare minute I had, to track and mix a 7 song demo tape of my original music. I was proud of my accomplishment.
Upon honorable discharge from the Army in 1989, I went to work in Houston working in the telecommunications industry. I was making more money than I had ever made in my life and all of the money was going to buying gear and instruments. After 3 years of hard work, and a lot of luck, I ended up building a small demo studio. I began producing demos for local musicians and bands. I was having a blast and producing some pretty good recordings with the limited equipment I had. I was beginning to get a small reputation in certain circles as being a good engineer.
That all came to a screeching halt in 1996, when somebody decided they wanted my gear more than I did. They kicked open the front door and walked off with almost $8K in gear. By this time, technology had replaced my telecommunications job, so the good money I was making was not there anymore. I put what equipment was left in storage and gave up on my dream. I did not want to play anything, or have anything to do with music. Heck, I couldn't even listen to the radio for over 6 months.
Fastforward to 2004, I am out in the office, and I get the bug to play my acoustic. I dig it out of storage, tuned it up and played for almost 2 hours. The connection to the music was back, and along with it the desire to record again. I decided, it was time to begin the rebuilding process. Little by little, piece by piece, I am rebuilding the dream of playing and engineering/producing music.
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