Remembering Who I am Meant to Be

 

Sometimes we forget to live while making a living.  We can all be victims to that, I know I have.  But it is important to regain perspective and escape!

 

Hitting the “reset” button in my mind.

Sometimes you need time to reset.  Yes, much like a computer, rebooting and hopefully some of that $#!^ that was not working fine magically works as it should. Today we had a bit of time off… actual holiday routine while underway. So that means, that still there was stuff to do. But at least no meetings of “work” stuff like that.  It is the first time also since we left on the first day of December last year. Yes, I said what I said. It is a statement of fact. It has been busy as F@*& on this ship.

I’m listening to one of my all-times favorite bands. Guns N’ Roses, the song is Estranged from Use Your Illusion II. If you haven’t heard it, do yourself a favor and listen to it… it is a long song, but it is also a musical masterpiece.  If you see the video, for good measure it is also amazing. It was super high tech and big budget for the time that it was done. The special effects and cinematography are awesome. The front man & vocalist, Axl Rose to me was a great inspiration. Even though I would not put tattoos on my body (I ain’t that cool), his vision for what he wanted to create with the band was out of this world. I’ve heard from interviews and other narratives that there was controversy within the band because of the way he was pushing for these super elaborated videos, and some of the band members were not quite onboard with that. Still though, for anybody who would have never known about the alleged discord between band members; they will see the amazing discographic and videographic work that was a legacy as one of the most amazing bands in the world.

When I was a kid, I wanted so much to have a band like Guns N’ Roses… I love singing, and although I don’t have Axl’s vocal range (very few people in the planet do I’m sure), I can hit some pretty high notes too. His music was a great influence in what I would love for a band. Two guitars, keyboards, drums, bass guitar, back-up singers, and all kinds of other instrument cameos for the more complex songs. I remember when I was a kid and a teenager, just watching in awe their concerts on VHS (yes, I’m pretty old, and for those that don’t know what a VHS tape is, essentially that’s how you could see videos on demand, like YouTube, but on a physical tape that you had to rewind and stuff. A format which’s resolution was like a potato.  Yes, the struggle was real). Despite that, I would watch it over and over again.

I like playing the guitar while I sing… not all songs, but I do like to have something to do when there is a musical bridge with no lyrics. During those Guns N’ Roses concerts, I remember seeing Axl just walk off the stage and come with a different outfit of sorts whenever a guitar solo or instrumental musical phrase were playing in the song. In an interview I saw later, he mentioned something along the lines that he just did not like to stay out there doing nothing when the instrumental part of a song was playing, so he would go backstage and get something to drink or change. I can TOTALLY understand that. It is kind of weird standing there when there are others playing and you have to wait those bars to pass before it is your turn to re-join the band and sing. And that’s why I like having a guitar or something to play when that instrumental time comes.

I am not a virtuoso guitar player, but I have a good idea of what to do with my guitar.  The more you learn anything, particular an instrument and you think you’re getting pretty decent, then you realize that there is so much more to learn.  And I appreciate that. Much like if you drive a nice car, it is not that you are planning on racing in the streets (note: don’t race on the streets, it’s stupid and dangerous and people in other vehicles don’t need to be at risk because somebody thinks it is ok to race on the streets) … But in the example of the car, you would get a nice car because you know what to do with it… hopefully drive and go from A to B as needed.  So, I collect a lot of nice, professional level guitars, and I intend to use them at some point in my life. Also, I really ended up buying the guitar styles I always wanted.  I am not even thinking about buying any more, maybe I’ll get some for “work horse” on stage professional level guitars and stuff if I get to that point. I want that actually.

Then my guitars at home, are my guitars at home… you know? I like to keep my instruments pristine, and I have a feeling that in the road they are going to suffer like a mother-F and I rather have those guitars for the road, even if they are the same brand of those guitars, I have home… but for the stage. Meanwhile, I am sure I’ll have my current guitars to move around on stage.  I love being on stage and sing.

 

Remembering my love for music performance.

I remember when I was a kid, my mother always wanted me to learn an instrument. It was mandatory in school to play the recorder… yes, the recorder is that cheesy sounding flute looking thing. It sounds awful and was the first actual instrument I was able to put melodies to. It helped me train my ear. I was able to listen to music and hum it or try singing it without missing one note, in pitch and tempo. My daughter inherited that from me. I was not a good dancer… in public.  I was a great dancer in private. I guess I just froze for whatever reason in front of people and got all stiff and $#!^.  It is funny in hindsight; it was not funny at all back then.

And that’s another reason why I like having a musical instrument with me during any song… you don’t quite ‘dance’ with the guitar, or if you’re sitting at a piano… I mean you could have a dignified rhythmic motion and what not, but not a freaking choreography, you know? Also, it kind of looked super cool just swaying in a cool way with my musical instrument. I’ve became a much better dancer in time, particularly if I really like the person who I am dancing with… or if I am attracted to that person. I love dancing with my wife for example, and that’s the last person I’ve danced ever since, by the way. Then again, there are many styles of music (dancing music genres) that make me cringe and I hate them. I won’t say which ones, but some $#!^ I just don’t even like to listen to let alone dance to it.

But getting back to my youth, my mother really got on my ass about the recorder thing.  She said “all kids play some instrument” – so I had to do that too, apparently. It felt like a chore, but I got good at it, and I was able to translate what I whistled or hummed into that flute-thingy.  I didn’t think I had a nice voice, so I wanted to be more of an instrumentalist, rather than a vocalist. When I was even younger than age of the recorder – which I think I was about six years old, my mother also was kind of learning to play the guitar. I probably was four ½ or five years old around that time.  She would sit in the living room and with her guitar play some chords and make us sing along. I didn’t know what to think about it, I mean at that age if your mother was asking you to do something, you just did it. But I did not hate singing though. I still, sometimes sing and play in the guitar that song she used to play. In fact, I played it today.  She never really got all that great at guitar, she was also always so busy. And trust me, I can relate, it is like I am always so F@*%ing busy too. I did not learn to play the guitar until I was a teenager though. Even though, my mother’s guitar was pretty much collecting dust for years and years – just literally hanging on a hook.

When I was possibly seven- or eight-years old living in Ecuador, my mother brought back from one of her trips to USA an electronic keyboard. It was a four-octaves Casio keyboard.  It would almost be a toy for today’s standards, but that was my first keyboard. It had so many sounds and electronic accompaniments for different music styles. The only problem, I had no idea how to play. There was a piano and an electronic organ at my father’s side grandparents’ house. My grandfather at the time was kind of an @$$#*(3 when it came to even touching the piano, I guess I can understand because we didn’t really know how to play. But I guess it would have made more sense to, I don’t know, TEACH us how to f@%ing play. But what the f@*% do I know right? Apparently, my grandmother from my father side was a very accomplished pianist, who played in the radio and other recitals. It was her piano after all… though I never heard her play. Not once. So, I guess, I’ll never know for sure. She passed away over 30 years ago. My grandfather did not play, that I know of. At least I never saw him sit at the piano. My father did play though. I don’t know if he was good necessarily… but he knew what he was doing there. That piano, an upright and over 100 years old at the time that was in that house, it did have a very distinctive sound. Not a bad sound either, just very unique.

One of my father’s brothers, his youngest was apparently a more proficient musician. Not as profession but had musical ability. He played the guitar and the keyboard. The organ that placed downstairs in my grandparent’s house was his. It was a pretty slick organ for those times. Apparently, my grandparents gave him that as a gift after he graduated college, I think. I don’t quite recall. What I remember is that after you turn that thing on you had to wait a bit for the sound to come over the keys consistently… I guess it had vacuum tubes. For what I remember it sounded nice. It had two rows of keyboards and “foot keys” and a volume pedal.  I was eventually able to play it. I even wanted one for myself, but that never really ended up happening. My grandfather would make a fuss if we played the organ sometimes, some other times he was happy about it. Yes, I’ve been surrounded by complicated people my entire f@*%ing life.

So, when my mother brought that keyboard… FINALLY, I had an instrument that was my own. The first few weeks, or maybe even month I was really trying to figure that thing out. I didn’t know $#!^ about chords or what this thing could do. I did like the “demo” song it had. And I would pretend that I was playing… but in reality, I could not play that instrument for $#!^… I was almost giving up on that dream of playing the keyboard.  Remember I was no more than eight years old. We had that keyboard propped on my mother’s dresser; you could see the big mirror reflecting my superfluous attempts to play this thing.

By that time, I don’t remember if my mother has already departed back to the US, while we remained back in Ecuador, she was gone most of my youth.  So, sometimes I would go down from my room upstairs to hers and attempt to play.  It was more a toy and frustration to me until one faithful day. There was this older kid that was I think a cousin of one of my sister’s friends. Hell, I don’t even remember if my sister was still in Ecuador or if she left to the USA by then… holly shit my life is a blur. But I digress.  I was fucking around with this keyboard while this kid was watching TV in the family room area, a little lounge just outside my mother’s room.  As I came out, he asked if that was an electronic keyboard.  I said yeah, even though I was a bit almost cocky… because it was MY keyboard, even though I didn’t know how to f@*%ing play the thing. He politely asked me if he could play. I said, sure, or whatever was the equivalent in Spanish at the time. He graciously accepted the opportunity, and he made this Casio-tone sing like a f@*%ing boss!

Until then, I thought it was cool just to have a piano that had all these sounds and rhythms and $#!^… but I really didn’t know what it could do. By that time, I was able to do some simple melodies with my right hand but had no idea what to do with my left hand in the keyboard. But this kid was putting the electronic accompaniments and transitions, and chord changes and melody and it sounded amazing… even for a Casio. Not that I knew any better at the time. He was changing instrument voices on the song. From all the songs that he played there was one that made the most impact to me.  “En Algun lugar” (in some place) by Duncan Dhu, which was a Spanish (from Spain) band that was very popular at the time, but really, I didn’t know shit about popular music at that age.  My household was not exactly musically inclined on my mother’s side, and by then even her guitar was not used at all. Especially since “now,” it was missing strings.

Regardless, after that day I feel in love with my little “piano” – started getting more into trying to understand the chords and the melody. I was able to get more melodies if I heard them and my hand would just start making music. It was wonderful. Even though the instrument would be pretty basic for today’s standards, it was a full-size key keyboard, although it only had four octaves… but I was able to do some cool stuff with it now.

I don’t quite recall if my mother was back in Ecuador, when my grandmother hired a “keyboard teacher” – and note the quotations… because this was more a dude that kind of knew how to play but giving him the exulted title of teacher is pretty generous.  With that said, he did teach me a bit about how to use chords… no chord progression though… I learned that $#!^ on my own years after. He would mostly teach me some songs and change chords (which he used to call them “bass” or “bajo” in Spanish).  But nothing about major or minor chords. And some melody… oh, and by the way, he never actually taught me any actual complete song. It is funny now, but I didn’t even know much at the time so I guess I took what I could and soon enough I was above the skill level for this teacher. Which was kind of messed up in a way, because at some point he was kind of running out of songs to teach, I mean he was an ok dude – but knowing what I know now, his technique was pretty sloppy. Also, it did not help that my grandmother paid him for several lessons ahead of time, and old-boy disappeared for a long time. I don’t remember if it was a few weeks or a few months. But my grandmother was not happy.

Old boy returned one day apparently trying to give lessons again. And apparently, he was drunk of his @$$. My grandmother did not even want the money back, she just ensured he would not be back around.  And that was the end of my piano lessons. I didn’t mind though. The little bit I learned I used as a baseline to try to learn more and more on my own. I was even composing music pieces and playing the ones he taught me at a more skilled level. I still remember the first song I learned. It was “A time for us” from the Romeo & Juliet soundtrack.  There would be a few others he taught me, but I was able to give my own flare and arrangements… even though it was only in my little Casio instrument.

But even though it was my little toy, it was a super cool instrument to me at the time… As I continued growing, I was able to play more complex pieces.  One Mother’s Day I played for the mothers in my school – and even mine (which she was normally absent somewhere else at work or on a different country). I remember it was actually the only time I played for her in public.  I was dressed with this tan-green pants and matching shirt with some dark vertical stripes.  I even taught one of my friends at the time to play Fur Elise in the piano voice of the keyboard. I played “A time for us” and something that the dude called “the fallen tree” – I have no f@*%ing clue what the actual name of that song is, but my mother loved that song. So, I played for her. These were more ‘elaborated song’ because I was actually changing voices and rhythms, so sort of my little orchestra… I loved being on stage playing.

Even my grandfather on my father’s side stopped being an @$$hole when I was playing that piano. I was able to give it better voicing… but of course I realized that playing the piano and the differences without the electronic accompanying ‘rhythm’ is a whole other ball game. Also, the action on each keyboard was extremely different.  However, there would be many places where they would have an electronic organ where sometimes they would “let me play” – or even sometimes “ask me to play” – I kind of hated the fact that I was playing on somebody else’s instruments.  Some of those organs were nicer than others. But sometimes there was kind of that condescending feeling because they were “allowing me to play” their instrument.  So, although I had some photos getting into it, I kind of missed playing my own keyboard.  Though I loved playing those organs that had more than one row of keys.  I always wanted to get one of those keyboards… now I don’t even have the room to put that if I wanted it, but I do have a professional level keyboard anyway. So, so technically got a lot more than what I desired at the time.

But in all honestly, when I was a kid, I just loved going to this place in one of the malls.  It was called something like the “musical palace” (palacio musical). And it was this area in the mall where they sold musical instruments, particularly a lot of organs.  Some of those organs were awesome looking at the time. I am sure they would be a cheeseball for my taste today. But at the time I really wanted one of those.  Afterall, my little instrument was starting to get too small for my skill level, even though I didn’t realize it at the time.

There has to be a cassette tape somewhere with all the compositions I used to do in that little keyboard.  Fun fact, when I was a kid, I composed and wrote a song that I submitted to audition to the OTI (Organizacion de Television Iberoamericana) musical contest in Ecuador.  Of course, I was not selected… or even nominated… but I didn’t care.  I was going for what I felt was my dream, even if the skill level and even understanding of recording was below where the rest of that peer group in the OTI was submitting. I don’t even remember the song very well… I guess I would be able to play it again. It was mostly piano musically based.  There is a fun, and f@*%ed up story about it though.

I used to go to a martial arts academy at the time. And one of the student/instructors was kind of my buddy. And when he came to the house, I think I was helping him typing some $#!^ in my computer (a very old word processor), I played for him the song I wanted to submit to the OTI.  He was very impressed and gave me the number of a friend of his that was a musician, because I didn’t have any way to record my stuff… I guess other than a boom box. So, I called this guy… and I am sorry I don’t remember his name. But he was very nice.  He invited me to go to his place and meet his family.  Now, the deadline to submit was, let’s say Monday, and this gent invited me to his home to record my shit on a Saturday or Sunday. And of course, it was short fuse, and I really appreciated that he would take the time to do so.  Also, I needed a vocalist because I felt like my voice was not good enough… so, this dude was not only going to record my $#!^, he was also going to sing for me.  Remember, I am a probably a 12- or 13-years old kid at this time.  And here I am, in this guy’s house meeting his family and asking him to record my song. By the way, for free.

Before we started, he invited me to eat with him and his family.  A wife and I think two kids, small kids. The apartment was humble, and so was the meal. Essentially, it was some bread and some block cheese… and he prayed and gave grace and thanks for the fact I was there. Then he showed me his home-studio. It blew me away at the time. He had this Mac computer with some sort of software that help his MIDI (musical instrument digital interface) bring the song into the computer.  He also had a keyboard that was not super impressive, but it was much better than mine… so I was super impressed at the time.  But then again, I didn’t really understand how different musical instruments where one from the another.

But there I was playing my song, and I had my lyrics written in a notebook. He showed me some samples of music he had made before. He was kind of a worship band leader. And had created a few worship songs in his computer, using the same equipment. He had these cassettes he recorded and named “Cassette didactico #1 and #2” – or Didactic Cassettes (there were two).  I was grateful, but puzzled he called them such a vanilla name. He did mention that he named it because of the fact he was using his computer.  The artwork was in a cardboard and kind of a drawn portraits of him, and I guess the rest of his band.  I am having trouble remembering if it was his wife who drew the artwork. They were really nice people.

Then, somehow, I saw my music in his computer… he tried putting more flare to it and make it better… but there was not enough time to do that. So, he selected the best microphone he had available and tried to sing the best he could.  At the time I had no f@*%ing clue about transposing or changing keys to make it easier on this poor soul’s voice.  There were some crazy high notes… which probably I could hit now, no problem but this good man was struggling, and I was grateful, and maybe frustrated… cannot remember.  He and his wife did mention that one of the other band members had a very high voice registry, but he was unavailable.  I don’t remember the reason… I think they even tied to get a hold of him.  Now, today I am not a religious person at all… but back then I was more in tune with that religious side.  My lyrics actually had some mention to the Christian god. So, looking back at it, it might have been also a reason why this good man was also inclined to help this kid who until that morning was a stranger asking for a favor.

This was a VERY religious family; they were super nice. But I have to admit that I tend to feel a bit uncomfortable around very religious people of any stripe. I don’t mind people practicing or believing whatever it makes them happy… but I start feeling edgy if anybody tries to push that onto me… any religion… no matter what. I am equal opportunity on that sense, I just don’t like to have any faith pushed onto me. Don’t care if you’re a Catholic or Scientologist or anything in between, if it works for you, good on you, I don’t want to feel obligated on believing something I am not inclined to believe.

And really, that was the reason why I kind of ghosted this good family. They were again, super nice.  At some point I remember they were really talking about God and wanted me to go to their services. They were some other Christian denomination… not actually Catholic… which was the way I was raised.  I did submit the take we recorded with his singing and voice. And by the way, I did not have a copy. That was the only copy ever.  So, I think I’ll never hear that again.  In fact, I erased a tape to record that song.  It was a tape of a story, I think Cinderella… but it was a short tape, and I was going to put only my song in that tape.

I did not even have very nicely typed sheet music.  But hey… it was my dream and I wanted to participate so I did it.  I remember, I was moving there making my little package with the notes the only way I would write them, and my lyrics along with the tape. I do remember giving this man credit on the paperwork I submitted though.  I don’t remember his name to save my life.  I only remember he was sporting a beard and curly black hair.  I can’t even remember what his wife looked like, I think she was blonde, and can’t remember if she was pregnant. I think she was.

But anyway, back to the story. I walked the nine blocks from my house to the TV station for Channel 4… Teleamazonas. I went through the big door; I was the youngest contestant by far.  The next closest contestant next to me was this dude and he had his nicely prepared and big print-looking sheet music.  I remember him having this cheesy ass mustache, but he was polite.  Don’t think he got selected to the song anyway.  But anyway, I knew it was a shot in the dark, but I was not going to give up.  Eventually, a song got selected, and of course they arrange them to be ready for the show… to be honest I did not like most of the songs that did get selected, but of course their technical execution was far superior to mine at the time, but remember I was a 12-year-old kid that short of bully a man to sing, record and help me put my $#!^ in this contest a day before the dead line.  After the OTI, I composed a lot of other songs. I wonder if one day I’ll heard them again.  I am sure they are at the execution level expected of that age and technical skill, but there was soul, and desire. And that is what I miss.

Today, during that holiday routine I was now playing with my 22-hundred dollars American Fender accoustasonic guitar… this is the one guitar I brought for this deployment. I was going to bring two, but I was not supposed to stay this long, so I only brought one… and this is the one I brought. I wish I had the other too, I was going to bring my American Fender telecaster Elite as well… but here I am. I was also going to bring a small pedal board I made before I thought (or was led to believe rather) than I was going to be in this f@*%ing place for this long. Regardless, at least I have one professional level instrument with me. And today, we had a long “conversation” with my instrument.  I love playing my guitar, and even though I don’t get that much time to do that, today I was able to.  New songs I’ve composed, old songs I’ve created, covers I like, all kinds of riffs and other feelings… it makes me feel alive.

I was able to visualize myself on stage with thousands of people enjoying the show. Being part of that band, I always wanted, being the front man with my guitar strapped and being able to enjoy the instrumental parts without having to leave the stage or not knowing what to do with myself. The guitar speaks and sings along with me. It helps me vent, it is my best friend at that moment, we can understand each other. I changed the tuning half step down, so it has that awesome recording studio sound of so many classics.  It lowers the tension on the strings, and the bends are so much more precise… I have not finished the lyrics on my new compositions, but I can feel it how it will sound when it will be done.  I can feel they will be classics; I can see the crowds going wild, hearing all the instruments in my head as I riff along.

For a while, until it got too hot, I was playing topside with a view of the water turning into the ship’s wake as we navigate along somewhere in the Mediterranean Sea. And I was visualizing how great it would be to have an audience enjoying my songs. Some songs would give me those goose bumps, like you know you’re going to see that again, in a big stage.  I look forward to it. I want to be a performing artist, I have a feeling that it will go well, I had that passion since I was a kid, I’ve performed before. I have more stories to tell about how the guitar became my favorite instrument – some other time.  Also, how much I miss my piano, and my obsession for the drum set that now I actually own.  There is something that I wish I was able to do when I was younger, and I’ve mortgaged my life for this stability and for the altruism in uniform. But as this story comes to an end, I have to re-take those memories and build a future where my own person, and who I am mean to won’t be left behind forever.  He (me) has been left behind already for so long.

Now I just need to continue working on my skill, stage presence and finish my original songs as well as a few covers… but I want more originals than covers because I don’t want to deal with all that legal $#!^ regarding copyright.  Also, I want to put my own mark, not just interpreting other people’s work, even if I love those songs. I rather collaborate with my influences at some point, that would be amazing, and a dream come true. But I also want to have my own songs out there. Some of those original lyrics and music are to the point I like then, just need a few adjustments to master them. Some others, I want and need to finish the lyrics and the nomenclature. I want to have poetry, and also a good hook that makes a classic. I think I am happy with the chord progressions. I think my wife was going to send me my little pedalboard I got for the ship.  I will be happy if that is the case, so I can actually play some actual stuff in a way I can do some practice recording. Mostly for the nomenclature and work on the scaling and riff production. (UPDATE – It was not possible to send the pedalboard because of mailing restrictions).

 

 

Back to THIS reality.

Until then, I have a few more months stuck on this ship, and as today was finally a holiday routine, it helped me remember who I am inside.  The little boy who was start-struck when I witnessed this young musician maximize the capabilities of my little Casio keyboard, or the very nice man who owed me nothing, and still invited me to his home and gave me his time and expertise to pursuit a project that was a shot in the dark.  And then, that young boy who played in front of crowds before, and I know that people do enjoy my music, my voice and my performances.  I want to do that; I want to feel alive on stage. I need to record my music and make it available in different mediums… maybe Spotify, and some music videos so I can share my musical creations with the world. I’m sure somebody one day will sing along with my songs, and the message on my lyrics will mean something to somebody out there.

Until that day, this Sunday is coming to a close and tomorrow Monday, it will be a fairly busy day.  But you know what, I will continue working on my dreams, because any success I have will benefit my two girls. And in the end of the day, the person I am mean to be is the person that can provide a good example for my child.  The example I speak of is that no dream is out of reach if we pursue it when we are awake. HLC