Ahhh yes, 9/11. I remember where I was, behind the counter of a little music store I had in a small Texas town. One of the locals who, through a particularly troublesome tour of duty and years of drinking since, was known to be a bit off, came in wild-eyed talking about how we’re under attack and skyscrapers in NYC are coming down. I told him thanks for the info and to try not to worry too much, OK? I figured he’d finally gone over the edge, the poor guy. No, in that moment, reality was nuttier than he was. A strange shift. I went next door to the tile place and we watched it on TV. All I could say was, “What the fuck?” All they could answer was “I don’t know, man. I just don’t know.” I still don’t know, and I’m still asking what the fuck. And truth is now even nuttier than TV.
All I can tell you, on the anniversary of our version of a day most in the world have their own horrific versions of, whatever it is or was to us individually… we have a garden. We are given the garden we get, and ideally through the steps it takes to nurture and grow it, and through kindness of other hands when we falter, most of us will see our little gardens nurture and grow. In times of crisis and scenes of trauma, and through the moments of drama that season a life, including all that’s going on right now, this is the only truth we have. That, if in fertile ground you plant good seed and you protect and nurture it, somehow much of the time good will grow from that. Not all of the time, as there are no guarantees outside of math class, and that all who come this way shall go. Those are the guarantees. You can live love and still die by the sword; it’s a risky, tricky place. But tend to the garden around you and work outward from that. See out from that, give out from that, and be a little more that than anything else. And when you can, do something good and cast into its glow that it is done, as deliberate act, to carry on the good in those who were lost along the way.
As for this little garden, out here in the woods, a very fall-feeling morning came upon us. It has been a hot summer, and then it has rained every day for a while… and though gray and looking like rain again today, it’s flannel weather! At least for the morning. But it’s a glimmer of what’s to come. I gave my thanks and didn’t put on the flannel shirt just yet – I wanted to feel this after the summer. Being a little cool is fine with me. The rain slows things down a little, but it’s just another thing to work around. In the green shop where the woodwork happens there are changes to a plank of wood I just don’t do when the climate is this wet. But it’ll all get done, it always does, and there are always other tasks to do. So I do those. It’s really that simple a flow; if the list isn’t the list for today, it can be modified. There are plenty of “nexts” to go around. And actually, at a more sane pace than at other times in life, it feels like there is enough ME to go around to serve them properly.
Fender made the announcement that they’ve sold more guitars than any year in the history of the company. Let that sink in – now factor in we’re barely into September. In normal retail considerations, how most of theirs are sold, the retail year isn’t even half over yet dollar-wise factoring in the Holiday season still ahead. Fender has been around since the late 1940s. In our own tiny little workshop in the woods way, I knew this. All through everything this year, the calls came and orders with them. Music is medicine; a new instrument is an award / reward / rebirth / tool / rekindling / marking of a moment. We buy tools to build things. LOTS of music is getting built. Oh you’ll see stories about those who feel the times are time for them to be done doing what they do. Sure. I get that. Times like these are times of great change and are also great times for a change; a lot of folks’ lives are rearranging around them already anyway. Might as well lose that 10 pounds or stop faking it or buy the damn Corvette or become a Buddhist monk or get sober or rebuild from nothing or become someone new or start that little business or retreat from public life or shuffle the REST of the cards too. From down the road in what grows from that, the prices and losses seeding the path that led there might look different. Through all of it, music is being made. It’s ceremony. It’s soundtrack. It’s ritual for living. And most of us are still alive.
The commerce end of what the hell to DO with that music, who knows – that’s different for everybody now anyway. Gigs? Shows? Who knows. I don’t. But I can guarantee you underneath ALL of this is a lot of art and writing and sculpting and painting and music happening. A LOT. I had to put the kibosh on any more orders for a while and that’s a big part of it, other than me slowing down a little. Some would say “Wow – time to grow the company bigger!” I get it. I saw the same things 10 years ago – desperate deals on commercial space, talented hands needing work, orders coming in, others petrified in uncertain economic times, the herd of competition thinning. I grew it then, and that’s why we’re still flying today. But this is not a chapter where bigger is anything I want. I do want YOU to see the opportunity though – go start a small business. SMALL. Something that’ll sustain itself right off, based on serving a need. Especially if you’re young and have nothing to lose. Go back to school? Really? With all empathy for all being adversely affected by anything, for some of you, this time is the chance of a LIFETIME. Need is everywhere, and you can serve and give and still be fair and feed your life just fine from what you do. Don’t sit and watch it crumble; go rebuild it. Don’t watch it all die like it’s entertainment TV… go plant some seeds. Go make something happen. Go help something live.
Life is a balance. Here on the surface of things where we live blasted by the winds that blow thinking what we see’s all there is to know, it might not be right now. Moments of balance here are fleeting, a moving target to aim at with little corrections and minor course adjustments and working the wheel and pedals of our own lives. But the sun is just fine above these clouds, sunning like crazy; it rains for a reason, and things have their season; and underneath the shitshow of 2020 are lots of little gardens getting lots of attention we hadn’t had the time for, hadn’t felt imbalanced enough to turn to, and in many cases hadn’t even known existed inside of us. Grow that. Tend that. Be the gardener and the tool, be the seed and the soil. Whichever the moment needs, whatever the day moves you to be. And when you can, do something good and cast into its glow that it is done, as deliberate act, to carry on the good in those who were lost along the way. In that, you just might find yourself again.
Listening to: Chuck Leavell Forever Blue (Solo piano); Bill Evans Moon Beams; Robert Plant interviews.