HAVE YOU MISSED ME?

Have I been missed? Did you wonder where my weekly words of wisdom have gone? Did you say to yourself, “He must be super busy and that’s why he isn't writing anything”? I certainly hope I have been missed even if my words are far from wisdom. I wish I could tell you I have been so busy conquering the entertainment world that I just couldn't find the time to write. I wish I could even tell you, life got in the way, preventing me from putting my thoughts in cyber form for you to read. I wish I could tell you, my dear reader, a lot of things, but truth be told, I can’t.

Life didn't get in the way nor have I been so busy that I couldn't write. My trouble is I've had a bout of the Lazies. TV shows needed watched. Naps needed taken. Mindless, near comatose, pure laziness was all it was. I apologize to you, reader of my prose. I wish I had a better excuse. I wish I could say it was a hangnail on my typing hand. I wish I could have even hung up a sign reading, “Gone Fishing” but I didn't even do that. I just didn't feel like it. I didn't want to write (and you know how much I love it). Then I wondered if I really had anything of value to say. If there was any real value found in the pictures I try to paint in your mind. But here I sit on an airplane thinking I have robbed you of any value you might find. In reality, though, I have robbed myself these past weeks.

You see, I write because I enjoy it. I hope you do as well, but I do it for me. I do have thoughts in my head and writing helps me fine tune those thoughts into my own masterpiece. I guess most writers or composers feel the same way. They don’t necessarily write for you the reader but rather because it is in them and it has to come out. A great poem, story or even a song is written from the mind, the heart of its author. Emily Dickinson’s poems weren't discovered until after her death and she is listed in literary history as one of the best. She wrote them for herself and we were blessed to discover them. Beethoven was blind yet composed great music because it was in him and needed to come out.

Although I hope you read my words and enjoy them, I write them for me. I write them because it’s in me to write them. My words may not roll of the page like an Ernest Hemingway novel or an Edgar Allen Poe story, they are still my words put up for you to read and hopefully take away something useful. If not I will continue to write for my own therapy and edification. If you can gain anything from this today, take this, do not let laziness keep you from doing what you should be doing. For you not only rob us of your gift but you rob yourself of being who you are.

HERE COMES THE DREAMER

Growing up in Eastern Kentucky, church was a big part of my life, as it is with most people raised in the south. Our weekly routine was simple, if the doors of the church were open then we walked through them. Sunday morning, Sunday night and the dreaded Wednesday night. If there wasn’t any youth group meeting on Wednesday then we had to sit in the adult Bible study. But Mom said we had to go so my brother and I went. As a result, a lot of the stories from the Bible sunk in and stick with me.

There was a king so fat, when he was assassinated with a sword, his fat engulfed the whole knife. Guys were thrown in a furnace, a lion’s den and swallowed by a giant fish and lived to talk about it. A donkey spoke and a snake tempted. There are stories of treachery, love, victories and agonies which captivate as they draw you in, so much so, you forget your hearing a story from the Bible. One such story draws my attention to new aspects and nuances each time I hear it. A simple story of a guy with seemingly no direction in life yet turns out to be on the path of his purpose all along. When he walked up to a crowd, people would mockingly say, “Here comes the dreamer!” Yet, there are a few lessons we can learn from Joseph and his dreams.

Some are Not Going to Believe in You. 

When Joseph revealed his dreams to his brothers they were jealous, made fun of him and even told their dad he was one weird cat.  Even his dad told him to get his head out of the clouds. Dreamers often face this lack of support from family and friends. They may get a ceremonial pat on the head or a verbal cheer lacking sincerity. This is a usual outcome because dreams lack practicality and are foreign to the non-dreamers. Yet, like Joseph, you must not give in to their lack of belief. As a matter of fact, their lack of faith in your dream is all the more reason you most continue to cultivate a strong faith in you and your dream.

Some Will Try to Derail You. 

Joseph’s brothers were so fed up with him and his dreams, they devised a plan to get rid of him. The oldest altered their plan to kill him to sell him into slavery then tell their dad he was attacked. I am sure Joseph wondered what would happen to him and his dreams, but he stay on track. He didn’t fully understand how it was all going to work out and he knew if he allowed himself to get off course it definitely wouldn’t reach fruition.

Some will Seek to Contain You. 

Joseph became a well-respected employee in a high ranking official’s business until he was placed in a position that would compromise his dream. When he stood firm with who he was, he was lied about, framed and then falsely imprisoned. Being shut out from everyone, ostracized even, is a form of containment and can tempt you compromise your dreams in an effort to be accepted. In the end all you have accomplished is changing your dream to someone else’s, confining yourself to less than what you could be. Dreamers remain committed to the dream regardless of how dreary, damp and dark the dungeon of containment may seem. Dreams stay focused on a bigger picture.

Some will Commit to You. 

While in prison, Joseph treated everyone with respect and helped one realize his dream even when it meant his friend would achieve his goal before him. When the opportunity arose, however, Joseph’s friend recommended Joseph. He wasn’t forgotten about, just the opposite in fact. This guy believed in Joseph’s abilities so much he risked everything with his suggestion. Long story short, Joseph became the most powerful person (except for the Pharaoh) in the country and his dreams were fulfilled. The reason for this rests with Joseph. Sure he had help but had he doubted himself, given up or comprised his dreams he would not have been in the position which allowed him to make his dreams a reality.

When you walk into a room and hear someone say, “Here comes the dreamer,” hold your head up and say, “Yes I am.”

MEMORIES

Memories are tricky things. They often come at the most inopportune time. They will pop into your mind, often times for no reason at all. I was watching a fast food commercial once then “astounded” my kids with a story of my youth which had nothing to do with the commercial. Often times they look at me and say, “That was random” or “What made you think of that?” To which I have no good answer, it just happened and once you have heard some of my stories, my daughters’ questions/statements make a lot more sense.

I imagine you have had similar experiences though. How about this? Have you ever gone into the kitchen (or any room for that matter) then stop dead in your tracks with a confused look on your face and wonder to yourself, “Why in the world did I come in here?” You stand there confused, a little embarrassed and then just turn around going back to where you just came from wondering if you will ever remember why but kind of sure you won’t.  The funniest part is when you are watching it happen to someone else and you watch them start over trying to jog their memory by retracing their steps only for it to be forever lost. When it happens to me I always think to myself, “I never needed it anyway.”

However, I do have those memories, as I am sure we all do, that we wish we could forget. It could that time you embarrassed yourself in front the girl you had a crush on in high school.  Maybe there is something no one else knows that you wish didn’t happen and could forget about. But it’s those memories which have helped mold you into the person you are, and hopefully for the better. It’s one of those cool things about memories, it teaches us, molds us and gives us a little enlightenment as to why we are the way we are. Sometimes those memories allows us the opportunity to connect with those who are younger, bridging, ever so slightly, the generation gap with a story.

Memories are history. Our history and our family’s history. One person once said, “If we don’t learn from history, we are destined to repeat it.” That’s our memories and the lessons that come with them. On this Memorial Day weekend, I have thought about what I was going to grill and how I would celebrate it. Burgers, hot dogs or steaks? Those are my tough decisions to make. Will I have baked beans or mac and cheese? Probably both. Then there are a dozen other items that need my attention on this Holiday. In the midst of all the festivities the most important part of it could be lost and perhaps for many it did. The part which causes us to remember. Remember the soldiers who have giving their lives just so I could be put in the overwhelming position of having to decide between burgers or hot dogs. On this day I will offer you a little help of memory.

Remember the Alamo.

This day will live in infamy.

Lest we forget, 9-11.

I HATE YARD WORK

My Name in Neon (chalk)

Yard work is the one chore I dread the most. I wake up Saturday morning knowing the yard needs to be mowed, weeds trimmed and the gutters cleaned out. I will drink a cup of coffee, perhaps 3 or four, while I “think” about how to form a plan of attack and get it all accomplished. In essence, however, I’m just putting off what I know needs to be done, so it isn't really the yard work I dread as much as actually starting it. It’s been said, “Every journey begins with the first step.” The same is true with yard work, it all begins with the first step toward the garage for the yard tools. Each tool has its purpose to accomplish, a specific task to, supposedly, make my job easier and more tolerable. But I know I am still going to sweat and get dirty.

Of all the chores I do, the one I dread the most is the cleaning out of the gutters. It involves getting out the ladder, setting it up in the right spot then climbing it, one rung at a time, while carrying my leaf blower. I just know it’s going to be frustrating at times and a struggle to get those leaves out. I’m going to get sweaty not to mention all the leaves and gunk covering me as the blower forces them into the air. Bottom line is it’s not glamorous. Just the opposite in fact. It can get extremely dirty, and difficult at times. It’s actually much like climbing the ladder to success.

Too often when we look at our successful heroes who are walking red carpets and generally living the “jet-set” that’s all we see, the glamour. I’ve been guilty of looking at the name in lights and forgetting about the times when their name was written in sharpie. I rolled into Louisiana once, excited to do my show thinking, “They’ve never heard anything like me” until I saw my name written in neon chalk on the sign out front. Then, with laughter in my head, I realized my name will be erased with the swipe of the hand or a good strong breeze. 

Staring at our heroes standing at the top of the ladder, we totally overlook all the rungs they stepped on to get there. The ones standing at the top, for the most part, know what it took. They know on one rung they learned the value of networking. On another was the lesson of marketing. Then others consisting of practice, material, business and the rungs go on and one. For the entertainer it’s in those dive bars they learned the value of connection or how to further hone their art form. Every rung brings you higher, closer to the end goal. Make no mistake, however, you might slip on a rung or get stuck on one for a time, but they will take you closer to your dreams as you climb. Slow or fast, you still have to climb it one rung at a time.

Excuse me now while I go get my ladder and work in the yard. Man, I hate yard work.

THE INVISIBLE MAN

I remember going to dances in high school and seeing those group of kids standing along the perimeter of the room not sure what to do. I’m not sure how they are referred to now days, but we called them wall flowers back in the day. Most movies depict those awkward teenagers as nerds and just socially inept. Outcasts from the social elite even to the point where they walk the hallways like ghosts. You never really see them as they quietly blend into the background, never noticed or doing anything to draw attention to themselves. These invisible students just go about their lives, living in the shadows doing what they do hardly ever finding their way into the light.

This invisible mentality can also move from high school/college right into your work life. In the move The Office there was a character who just came to work, stayed quiet and no one even noticed him even when they discovered he had not received a paycheck for a long period of time. With belly laughs, we laugh at those scenarios the characters find themselves, mainly because, we identify with them. Yet we still get up the next morning go to work only to blend in. Creativity is hidden, even squelched. Ideas are dismissed and along we go one of many who clock in then clock out as wall flowers.

How many reading this have ever felt like you are in the background? Not even background noise just background, almost invisible. I know I’ve felt this way. I live on stage in front of people all the time yet I find myself struggling to not be invisible. It is a struggle. People drift to the sidelines for a variety of reasons. Some lack the self-confidence to be involved, share little to no interests with the group, or a number of other reasons. But how does one correct this? How can they go from being invisible to being seen? The quick and most honest answer I have is, I don’t know. I don’t know what the psychologist and the other experts on this subject will tell you. All I know for sure is what I do, what works for me.

In a nutshell, I decide not be background. It’s a conscience effort. Every day I wake and I have a decision to make. A decision whether I will be invisible, overlooked and forgotten or not be. Every morning I make the decision to walk out of my house with my head up seeking to make my way. Maybe this will help you wake up and decide to not be background.

I wake up and decide on this day I will pursue my passion. My passion is to be an entertainer and everything I choose to do has to fit under this heading. From comedy, to writing and even giving speeches, I decide. I wake up deciding to follow my passion. Although I do get sidetracked even a bit distracted and go off-roading so to speak, it’s a decision I conscientiously have to make. My passion is important to me, which is why it’s a passion. If it weren't my passion it would be an interest or worse just a hobby.

The second decision I wake up making is perhaps the hardest but I still make it. It isn’t easy but it has to be done and to be honest sometimes I fail. But I don’t allow it to stop me, in fact it makes me become more resolute in this decision. In addition to deciding to follow my passion, I wake up and decide “not everyone has to notice me.” Yep, that’s it and it is hard especially for someone who feeds on the attention. You have to decide to be happy with who you are even when no one is looking. You must decide what you will be when you are alone.

To stop being a wilting wall flower and be visible all you have to do is wake up and decide. Trust me, it’s easier said than done, but you can do it.

OUTLAWS ALWAYS TAKE THE ROAD LESS TRAVELED

Outlaws have always had a peculiar way of capturing our interest. We seem to be more fascinated with those who color outside the lines than those who use the lines as a guide. Many reading this may think I’m referring to the likes of Jessie James and Billy the Kid, although, colorful Outlaws, I’m writing about those who are the Outlaws in any particular industry, namely entertainment. Every profession has them. Take Galileo for instance. He went against the Scientific & Religious views when he touted the unpopular view of the Earth rotating around the Sun rather than the other way. He even spent time in jail for it.

The thing about Outlaws is they refuse to be boxed in by society rules and norms. Rather, they often become our heroes and role models in life. George Washington and the rest of the revolutionaries are great examples of this, rebelling against the status quo and the British Empire. As history has proved, it’s worked out pretty well. When you walk through the halls of the history of the world you see portrait after portrait of rebels, Outlaws and the like who go against the grain only to be regarded as heroes. Within the entertainment world it isn't any different. It’s those who choose to go their own way we turn into legends, eventually.

Artists such as Waylon Jennings fight for what they believe in and for who they are at their core. His “Wanted: The Outlaws” album was the first Platinum album to be seen in Nashville much to the chagrin of the radio executives (until they saw money was to be made). Elvis Presley chose to shake and gyrate his body to the point society called him the Devil. Now we simply know him as the King of Rock & Roll, a hero. The Blue Collar Comedy Tour is an example for four guys going against what the comedy hierarchy says was true comedy entertainment, to the point the higher ups wanted nothing to do with Foxworthy and the boys. But they became the highest grossing comedy tour in the history of comedy tours, then the entertainment world jumped on their bandwagon. Three examples of Outlaws becoming heroes.

What it boils down to is those who make the rules and “control” the given industry often times have no idea what will actually work. They strong arm and bully their “show ponies” making them dance to the beat they set. They disavow and disown anyone who goes against the path they've set. Enter the Outlaw. He will do his own thing even if there are no riches involved. He will go his own way, even if alone. He will not be bullied and sets his own beat, even if he has to play all the instruments himself.

Robert Frost spoke of the outlaw (sort of) in his poem, The Road Less Traveled. The Outlaw takes this road. This road isn't easy, oftentimes lonely and has the occasional pothole of doubt. He is branded the rebel, the heretic and even of the devil (remember Elvis) but he wouldn't have it any other way. His mind just works differently. His attitude is his own. His satisfaction is knowing he is true to himself.

On the heart of the Outlaw are the last words of Robert Frost’s poem, “Two roads diverged in a wood, and I, I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.” All the difference indeed.

THE ROAD LESS TRAVELED

-          Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair

And having perhaps the better claim

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I –

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

NASHVILLE: The Land of DREAMERS and DOERS.

A few weeks ago I had a three hour layover in one of the greatest cities in the country, Nashville, TN. So I spent this time in the World Famous Tootsie’s Orchid Lounge (airport edition). As I sat there, the place was busting at the seams. The singer on stage was playing and singing old country classics. This packed restaurant became a classic country choir and it was amazingly fun. If I had to have a layover, I couldn't have planned it any better. Three hours in Music City USA and I felt the old fires burning deep inside me. Fires that can only be fueled by the atmosphere of Nashville, even if I only made it as far as the airport.

This is what makes this town such a unique place. On every corner you see and hear people, young and old, living out their dream of making it. Keep in mind their idea of “making it” may just be playing music for a living whether they’re heard on the radio or not. Dream chasing just oozes from the veins here. One cannot walk into a bar in the lower Broadway area and not hear music playing. It happens at all hours, different bands and singers switching shifts throughout the day just like the wait staff. From all over the country, each one came to this town just to play music in hopes of being discovered or bumping into someone already on the radio.  Nashville, TN the place where people come to chase their dreams. They may drive beat up trucks or arrive on a bus but they come, their dreams are what puts the breath in their lungs, so they come.

People all over America have dreams. They dream of a nice home with the perfect family. They dream of winning the lottery. They dream of their name in lights or on playbills. It isn't any accident the term “American Dream” was coined. We are dreamers. I have them, you have them and those singers in Nashville have them. However, there is more to it than just having dream. It’s what sets you apart from the dreamers to the doers that makes the difference. Actually, it’s the determination to go from dreamer to doer that makes one successful.

Far too many people are content to dream. Dreams help us sleep. Dreams give us something to talk about. But if dreaming is all we do then the streets of Nashville would grow quiet and stages across the country would be empty. It’s the drive, the determination that turns dreams into music. It transforms dreams into reality. It isn't just in the entertainment world, it’s in every realm, where determined dreamers find success, which isn't always fame and fortune, but success nonetheless.

The difference between the Dreamers and the Doers is The Dreamers dream then sleep and the Doers dream then they do. Which one will you be, a slumbering Dreamer or a successful Doer?

LOOK!...A SQUIRREL.

Plans today is to go for a long bike ride. It’s my New Year’s resolution from last year. Ride my bicycle at least three days a week, however winter was a rough one and I got out the habit. I felt guilty about it so I sat around until that feeling went away. Today that is all going to change. I haven’t gained all my weight back from being on a bike riding hiatus but I have gained some. When I get started here in a little bit I will be ahead of the curve. By the time summer hits I will not only look better more importantly I will feel better. Here lately too many of contemporaries have passed away due to unhealthy living, that’s not going to be me. I’m planning one being here a bit longer.

Well, that’s how my morning began. When I got up I put on my exercise shorts and tee shirt with all the intentions of the world of going. When I ride, I really ride. 9 miles is minimum for me and its nothing for me to be return a few hours later having rode 18 miles or more. As I was preparing to leave Shadow needed to go out to do whatever it is he needed to do outside which among those activities usually includes chasing lizards. If he gets one, which 9 times out of 10 he does, it will be a little bit before he is ready to come back in. Knowing this, I grabbed my trusty laptop and proceeded to work. Before I knew it, I was in the middle of a project and the juices were flowing. Briefly interrupted to let shadow back in, I was engulfed and had all but forgotten to go for a ride. Distractions number 1 and number 2.

OK, it’s time to re-group and get out there to ride. I have to get in better shape. So here we go, time to ride. Wait, look at that sink. Those girls of mine! I wish they could do their chores without being told. I can’t leave it like that. I can’t stand a dirty kitchen. Many people don’t know this about me but I like to cook. I don’t cook often and it’s usually something I do on the grill or smoker but I want a clean kitchen just in case I take the notion to cook something. So off to straighten the kitchen. Distraction number 3.

Well the kitchen looks better, however it’s time for Rebecca to come in from school so now I just can’t go. She can’t come home with me not here (although she does so about every other day) because if I’m gone she will just text me until I can’t concentrate on my ride. So I might as well give up on my ride today and begin brand new tomorrow. Distraction number 4 and the final one. Distractions 1 and Vic 0.

How many times do we let the distractions of life get in our way of accomplishing what we want? It could be a dream, a chore or in my case, a bike ride (exercise) but those minor distractions mount up to form what seems to be an insurmountable wall and we just give up. It’s those distractions which get in the way of our dreams. Too often our dreams sit up on the shelf because we have allowed the distractions of life to get in the way and our fullest potential is never achieved. It’s a conscience effort to move past those distractions, those items in your way to achieve your success, whatever it may be.

So tomorrow morning I will get up take my daughter to school and begin brand new with a conscience effort of determination to reach my success. I've already started, I put air in the tires of my bike. That’s step one.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY

It’s April 13, 2014 and I sitting in the World Famous Tootsie’s Orchid Lounge in Nashville, TN (Airport edition). In here there’s good music, a packed house and something to eat. Hanging out with complete strangers singing classic songs is a pretty good way to spend a 3 hour layover. I met a cool young country singer trying make a living doing what he loves to do and he’s good at it.

As much as I love town and a part of me is tempted to just stay, I must get back to Orlando. You see, tomorrow is a very special day, it’s my baby girl’s birthday. It isn't one big ones but that doesn't make it any less special. She turns 15 tomorrow and has been counting it down since New Year’s Day I believe. She thinks that is fun and for her I suppose it is. I remember my birthdays back in the day, the anticipation of its arrival, the excitement and the feeling of becoming older, so I get it. But it still doesn't change the fact my baby girl is getting older and it hurt a little.

This little girl growing up was my shadow, wanting to go where I go and do what I did. She wanted to be fishing when I went fishing or just sit next to me on the couch. Now days she is more interested in manicures and boys than worms and fishing (although she will still go when asked – once a redneck girl always a redneck girl). The times where she sits next to me snuggled up on the couch is getting fewer and fewer as the days pass by. She thinks it’s fun to watch Say Yes to the Dress while to me it just means she’s growing up and already dreaming of leaving me to begin a new life. But as a father it’s what I do. I raised her to be strong, independent and bait her own hook when fishing. There’s still a tinge of hurt with each birthday that passes.  With this one she gets her permit already in anticipation of the next one.

She spends hours in the bathroom doing make-up, her hair and becoming a young woman. With each birthday the time draws nearer to when she will gain the favor of a young man and leave. Gone will be the little girl who scared me with blood streaming down her face from jumping on her sister’s bed. The one who asked me to lay beside her and tell her bedtime stories. Next on the agenda will be to teach her to drive and she wants to drive my truck, which is such a big girl thing to do. Then before I know will be graduation, college and well other events I am not looking forward to but I will always do the Daddy thing, smile.

On Monday, we will celebrate her birth. We will celebrate her growing up. As for me, I will put on a brave Daddy smile masking the hurt of losing my little girl to this young woman blowing out those candles.

YOU'RE MY HERO, CHARLIE BROWN

Growing up one of my favorite cartoons were the Peanuts. It didn't matter whether it was the holiday classics shown on the television or the daily strip in the newspaper, I loved them and I still do. There was always a mis-adventure involving Charlie Brown and his band of friends. The first “troubled child” we knew about in America and we all still loved him, perhaps identifying with him on some level. It didn't matter that he was always the losing pitcher on his baseball team or missing that football every single time, we loved him. Even when he had to see the psychiatrist at a nickel per visit, we never stopped rooting for him. Never stopped being in his corner, cheering for him. Hoping this time it would be different for him, but it never really seemed to work out just right.

Could it be the fault of those around him dragging or holding him down? There’s the little sister who is not only more popular but has a major crush on Charlie’s best friend, Linus. Oh Linus. Dragging his security towel everywhere he went, he stood by Charlie Brown ready with advice. What about Lucy, the nickel psychiatrist, who always seemed to belittle him with insults? Peppermint Patty, who liked “Chuck” but was very domineering over him. Of course we can’t forget about his beagle, Snoopy. A very talented dog who also would outshine his owner. The list could go on, the Pigpen, the accomplished pianist, the nerd and more. Not to mention never being able to really understand what any adult had to say. Could any of this be the root of his issues?

We could go on further and discuss his athletic abilities, or rather the lack of athletic abilities. He could never quote Charlie Sheen’s “Winning” and mean it because poor ole Charlie Brown didn't know what it was like to be a winner. He fell for the same football trick every time. Even when he knew better and she promised him it would be different, it never was. He’d run toward his goal, lift his leg to kick it and then Lucy would  pull it away at the crucial moment leaving poor ole Charlie Brown on his back wondering to himself, “Why did I fall for that again?!”

Through the years there is one thing I've noticed about him, he never gave up. He never gave up on his friends. He never gave up on his dream of pitching a winning game. He never gave up on kicking that football. Most importantly though, Charlie Brown never gave up on Charlie Brown. With all the hindrances in his life, who would blame him if he, in turn, blamed all those obstacles for his lack of success? But he didn't. He always got up and spent time with the same friends, feed the same dog and tried once more to kick that ball. He suited up every Saturday, believing today could be the day I pitch a winning game. He simply never gave up. His problems are not unlike ours each day and yet he got out of bed each day. With all the rejection in his life, Charlie Brown never gave up.

Today, as you struggle with what to do or if it’s worth the effort to chase your dream, remember that little Peanuts character and NEVER EVER GIVE UP, for today could be the day.