I found myself chatting online with an old friend the other night. We were just catching up, telling inappropriate jokes and such. He is a guitar tech for a major rock star and when he's not on tour he free-lances with some others. It's the kind of career that I had occasionally envisioned for myself. In between the bad jokes he told a couple of true stories about his employer. Nothing scandalous, just stuff to humanize the legend.
I have other friends that tour with famous people and occasionally they will share stories too. It's always fun to hear but I would never repeat them out of respect for their situation. And I never ask to hear the stories either. That's not why we're friends. But I have to admit that I find their stories and the pictures they share online to be pretty cool and I do get a little envious sometimes.
So it was a bit of a shock the other night when my friend told me that he was envious of me. According to him, I've got it made. I teach and I play at weddings in beautiful locations in Northern Michigan. It's a simple life. Although we've never discussed wages, I suspect that he earns a lot more money annually than me. And while that has it's advantages, so does sleeping in your own bed at night.
That "the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence" is no secret. Although I usually follow that with "...but it's just as tough to cut". The surprising thing is to discover that others think that your grass is the greenest. Wondering "what if...." can be a motivating force for a young person. It helps establish goals (which were once just dreams), and influences decisions about the future. However as a mature adult, "what if...." can be a distraction from our accomplishments, if we're not careful.
When I'm talking to young people about being a professional musician I always bring up the uncool stuff. Playing beautiful music for people is the best part of the job, but it's only a small fraction of what the job really is. And it's definitely not an 8-5 kind of job. Being an artist is a way of life. It's not only an activity it's a philosophy. I once told a young man who wasn't sure if he wanted to do this that professional music is either an obsession or a hobby. For most of us, there are sacrifices made to our personal lives and we have to learn to get by without certain material things.
So I need to be reminded occasionally of how lucky I am. That I get to teach and play music to support myself. And that my life, while unconventional to most, fits me to a tee. Every job, no matter how glamorous or important, has its bad parts. But if you really love what you do, the bad parts don't matter. My cousin, a retired pilot, once told me that the secret to a happy professional life is to figure out early on what you really like to do and then figure out how to get paid to do it.
I thank my friend for reminding me that although I am far removed from the world of super stardom, I am indeed a very fortunate man.