I do with my life that would be interesting and fun? Was that even possible?
I took a deep breath. Think.
An idea exploded in my head like a firework. I sat straight up in my bed and exclaimed out loud, “I am going to music school.” At that moment I made a thousand decisions about my life going forward. The main decision was that I would focus on aspects of music for my upcoming jobs. I’d look into music business and sound engineering. I’d work at record stores and volunteer at music festivals. I’d study music management and music copyright. Any and all roads seemed possible to me. Music would be my thing.
Even though I didn’t fully understand the impact of that morning, I realized later in life that music has been a guide for me. It’s been a glowing red-and-white-striped pylon that I can see up the road. It has given me direction. Whether or not I chose to walk toward it was up to me. When I committed to approaching it, I was delighted to learn that I could trust in the gift of clear direction.
I made a trip to my local college to gather information. Red Deer College offered a music program that seemed like it was right up my alley. I didn’t have much experience in music. I had taken a few piano lessons when I was around ten. Surprisingly, after only a few months of lessons, my mom and music teacher saw a pattern. I would take my music lessons each week. I wouldn’t practice, but instead would play songs by ear all week. When I showed up at piano lessons, I hadn’t progressed at all in theory or playing scales. I could play the heck out of songs by ear, though. Mom and the teacher decided, that since I wasn’t learning anything in the lesson, I might as well stop. More importantly, they recognized that I enjoyed music. So, why not just let me do my thing on the piano and enjoy playing it? This might have been the most important decision they made in my life.
According to the info I picked up at Red Deer College, I would have to pass a two-stage process to get accepted into the music program. First, I would need to prepare two pieces of music to perform in a live audition. No problem. I’d just play and sing along to some tunes I had learned by ear. The second part I needed to pass was basic music theory. I hadn’t ever learned theory. I thought I was doomed.
My audition at Red Deer College took place in a small, windowless, hard-to-find room located in an impossible-to-find basement. The air was old and musty. The brown piano was scuffed and scraped on every corner. Its keys were as chipped and jagged as a prizefighter’s smile. It sounded good, however. It had been freshly tuned.
I liked the gentlemen who auditioned me right away. Ken Mallet and Keith Mann had firm handshakes and eager smiles. They showed authority and confidence. I respected and wanted to impress them. I played two songs. One was a cover of a pop song (probably “Hello” by Lionel Richie), and the other tune was one I made up as a joke.
The audition went over extremely well. Both Keith and Ken had grins on their faces throughout our time together. They accepted me to the music program on the spot… with one condition. I needed to pass a basic theory test. We shook hands on it. It was as if another pylon had popped up in front of me. I knew what my next step needed to be. Pass that theory exam.
As luck would have it, there was a young woman on one of the surveying crews that was already in the school of music at Red Deer College. She was a guitar player named Nancy Laberge. I asked Nancy if she would be kind enough to help me learn basic theory so that I could come and be part of the music program. Thankfully, Nancy was happy to help out. Over the next few weeks, Nancy taught me what the lines and the spaces on a sheet of music meant. She showed me what the circles, dots, and tails were. I learned about time signatures and note values. Nancy was instrumental in getting me through my theory exam. When it was time for me to take the test, I scored a mark just high enough to be fully accepted to RDC. My excitement swelled in my heart for what my life was about to become. I believed that music was my life’s calling.
Music: The Irrational Career
When I told my parents that I was going to attend music school, they were surprisingly supportive of me and my decision. They saw how I lit up with joy when I plunked the black and white keys and belted out songs on the old downstairs piano. If music was going to be my post-secondary-education path, then they were on board 100 percent. I’m thankful that they were so cool about it. There was just one small concern though.
My sweet dad found time one day to lovingly offer some advice to me. As we sat having a coffee one morning at the kitchen table, he said, “Tim, music is a great hobby, but you might want to learn welding or something to fall back on.” That was entire extent of his wise advice. He made his suggestion, and then accepted that the cards would fall where they would. I’ll never forget his loving gesture to show his concern for my future. I understood that his worry was for my financial stability and well-being. He was doing what parents of the day were expected to do: give practical wisdom. I could never fault him for that. He also trusted that my life would mean more than financial security.
Most people think that a career in music seems irrational. The first thought is, “How will you make money?” What they are really wondering is, “How will you pay rent, feed yourself, get ahead in life, thrive, be successful, make babies, pay taxes, etc.?” How is a music career a rational path? It’s not. It’s a path of fulfillment.
A rational path is the way most of the industrialized world approaches life and career. It’s rational to go to school and get good grades. Grade one leads to grade two. Grade eleven leads to grade twelve. After high school, the world is your oyster. You can do anything you dream of. At eighteen years old, it’s “rational” to know what you want to do for the rest of your life. If you are rational about school and you get good grades, you can go to any college or university you want to. You can learn any skill on the planet. Just apply to the school that offers the classes you need and get “accepted.” When you’ve been “accepted,” then you’ll just pay the necessary fees to attend your classes. Eventually, you will get a diploma or a degree. When you’ve completed all your courses, you’ll be handed your degree and that’s when the money starts rolling in.
It’s rational to believe that, sometime between eighteen and twenty-five years old, you will have your whole life all figured out. You will have a path that will give you a roof over your head, put food in your belly, and ensure your long-term financial success. The rest of your life will focus on your career success and financial goals. Then one day you’ll retire. You’ll finally get to do whatever you want with your time and money.
Is it rational to believe that your life’s purpose is apparent when you graduate high school? Is it rational to believe that good grades will ensure that you will be a good employee and climb the ladder of success, just like in school? Is it rational to believe that your adult life between eighteen and sixty-five is to be spent on building finances and impressive titles on a business card? Where does life’s purpose fit in?
A music career is far from rational.
I chose an irrational path in life. My plan was to immerse myself into the world of music, to learn lessons as they presented themselves, to use my skills and gifts to inch forward. As I learned more and more about music, I began to see the many career paths music has to offer.
In college, I began to hang around a group of young dudes who were fun and talented. We decided to start a four-piece cover band called The Mile High Club. It was easy to get a gig at the college because we knew the decision-makers in the student union. The band played regularly at the college lounge and at special events when headliners would come through. The Mile High Club
