WA 6 Final

I was only seven when I figured out exactly what I wanted to be when I grew up. My family was visiting my cousins who were hosting our fourth annual family reunion in Pennsylvania. I was excited to see my cousin Jay who was the athlete in the family. In addition to being the MVP of his basketball team back home, he was a musician and today he was providing some entertainment for the special get-together. He played a couple of songs, of course I didn’t know what they were at the time. Afterwards, however I remember my mouth dropping to my feet when I saw his fingers doing the quick step up and down the finger board. When he finished playing, the whole family cheered. I remember wishing I was the one up there, everyone clapping for me. 
 
  When we were on our way home to upstate New York, the very next day, I mentioned that I had a new passion to my dad. I begged him for a guitar of my own. He kept saying no, that it was unnecessary and that I would get sick of it with in a month. He did not have me convinced so I kept begging until he finally agreed to get me a guitar for my birthday if I behaved until then. That was good enough for me, after the long hours of begging. So I would have to be a good boy for 10 only day. It wouldn’t be too bad, definitely worth it.

My birthday came around, and, soon enough, I had my very own guitar. My father helped me tune it and bought me a “Teach Yourself Guitar” book. I sat down that day for over six hours, running my fingers up and down the board, trying to figure out which position made what noise. I had already been able to read music notes since I had been playing the piano for three years so it came down to memorizing notes and chords.

There was never a single day after my eight birthday that I put the guitar down. I played all the time and I learned how to play almost all the classics on my dad's computer and using a site. When I got to high school, I had already decided I wanted to be a musician so what was the point? I dropped out as soon as I could to become a musician. I wanted, more than anything, to make it in the business though I knew it would be hard. I had another cousin in New York city so I decided to live with him until I could find a job and pay my own rent.

Little did I knew, the music business was about ten times harder to make than I had thought. I played show after show in little clubs, but every time I met a producer, he told me I wasn't strong enough to make it, that I was too young, too inexperienced and not what they were looking for. I changed my sound around and still, nothing. I was forced to leave my cousins apartment when her boyfriend moved in. I applied for any, and every job I could find but was denied every single one for my lack of a high school education. I guess I didn't think that one through when I decided high school was unnecessary since I was convinced people went to high school to decide what they would be. I still had no job so I ended up with out any place to live and only a couple friends. I stayed with my friends until they kicked me out after three month of my skipping out on paying my share of the rent. I was forced to live on the street.

I thought about moving back home, but a) I had no money to buy a train ticket back and b) I couldn't show my parents that I had dropped out of high school to become a failure. It was a hard life on the streets. I was cold at night and my clothes were deteriorating quickly. The rain left smelly, moldy spots on my back. I moved from shelter to shelter but they were very crowded, not any better than the extra long bench on 13^th street. I was forced to sell my guitar. This was probably the hardest day of my life. I couldn't help thinking that my whole past would be traded for a new outfit and a week's worth of food. That was the day I lost my identity. I had nothing to define me anymore. No friends, or family or anything to show for. I was a homeless man and I had to get used to it.

There is no happy ending to this story, in fact no ending. My life continued like this, in the dump. I say that in an almost literal tone. This is merely a warning to anyone who is reading. It can be harder than you think, to become a musician. In fact, I don't recommend it at all, not the way I reached for my dreams anyway. I recommend staying in school and keeping a well-rounded relationship with family. Think about your future before you live it.