Journalistic Adventures with Eric Vinson
As the first day of the new year is coming to a close, I sit reflecting on the year that was. It seems strange that it seemingly takes twelve months for adequate perspective taking to take place on all that transpired. In an effort to begin what I hope will become more than just a failed personal resolution [writing/blogging], here is a glimpse into the most defining moments over the past year, in no particular order.
1 - Sir Paul. Anytime I meet someone who had a chance to see the Beatles perform live, I refuse to let them leave out a single detail. I want it all - the sights, the sounds, the setlist… Completely out of the blue, Laura gave me a “better late than never” birthday gift in the form of tickets to see Paul McCartney perform in Cincinnati. The next 6 hours were spent in utter disbelief with my good friend RC as we traveled in anticipation to a night we’d never forget. From the moment ‘Hello Goodbye’ began, it was indescribable magic for my musical soul. [photo caption: a shot from our seats for Sir Paul]
2 - Suwon, South Korea. Though I had been to South Korea one year earlier, the 10 days I spent there this past summer felt uniquely special. The experiences contained in that time exceed the confines of this manner of retelling. However, one moment is worth noting. As the youth camp was coming to a close, the staff held an impromptu variety show. I had the privilege of providing background music for others as they candidly performed. As the night closed, I played an original entitled “This Is It”. Though I’ve played that song over a hundred times since writing it, it felt brand new in that setting, to those ears, and thousands of miles from home. [photo caption: me playing “Umbrella” with my friend Chad McClurg]
3 - Rhythm of the World. Until August of this past year, it had been a long and hard two years for me personally and musically. Perhaps on another occasion the feelings of those seemingly endless days will clearly surface. But after a year and a half of writing, planning, and recording, I was blessed and relieved to release my latest record, “Rhythm of the World”. There are so many people who helped dig me out of the trenches, especially those who believed in me enough to help in the fundraising campaign . However, this project would have never left the ground without the help of my dear friend, Andrew Osenga. [photo caption: tracking guitar in the studio with Andy]
4 - House Shows. Who needs a big venue when you’ve got a living room? This year, I discovered a love for the house show. Sure, it seems a little weird… showing up to someone’s house with your guitar, playing some songs to a few people you know and a lot you’ve never met… However, I walked away from every house show I had the privilege of playing this year feeling more alive musically than ever before. Specifically, two shows come to mind: the VIP House Show celebrating the release of my record and a last minute show thrown together by my dear friend Katie. Both of these nights involved super talented singer/songwriters, lots of shared stories, laughs, tears, and everything in between. [photo caption: the VIP house show]
5 - 5th Anniversary. I could write more surrounding this entry than any of the others, but I will keep it short. The journey that Laura and I began five years ago only grows sweeter as each day passes. What a blessing. [photo caption: LV & EV - Christmas 2011]
6 - Two Mortgages. One massive payment is usually more than enough for the monthly budget. But two? Living at the time on only my private school teacher salary turned an unfortunate mistake into a financial wake up call. Our online banking platform somehow paid our mortgage twice on the first day of the month, leaving us absolutely nothing to pay the rest of our bills or live on for some 30 days. To say we survived by our own efforts would be a lie. A lesson in true thanksgiving was learned as well that month. [There’s no picture needed to remind me of this.]
7 - The job. Laura wrapped up cosmetology school this past summer. After graduation, she hit the job market with mild success. The jobs she found weren’t necessarily what she was looking for, while the job she hoped to land always ended up to be in a salon that had no room to hire. One afternoon, she made her way into Studio BBC Salon for a tour and to ask a few questions, knowing up front they were not hiring. She left 30 minutes later with a job. It is an understatement to say that another lesson in thanksgiving was learned that afternoon. [photo caption: LV’s salon}
8 - The job, part two. Many of you know that 2010-2011 brought an unexpected addition to my resumé: 3rd grade teacher. As the school year was ending, I was making every intention to find somewhere else to be. After all, every longing of my adult heart up until that point involved turning my efforts as a singer/songwriter into a career. It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy being a teacher or working with children. It just wasn’t music. But as we crunched numbers and every lead I had ended in disappointment, it was time to return to the drawing board. Thankfully, I still had an offer at the school, which I ended up taking. That decision which seemed so unfulfilling at the time has blossomed into one of the most fulfilling experiences of my life. It still isn’t music, but it truly has been a rewarding and incredible journey, one that I will never regret for so many different reasons. [I would post a picture of my 8 students, but the cuteness would kill you.]
9 - Royalty. For those of you who know anything about the music business, you know that songwriters make their money on royalties. This goes for your material that is recorded by another artist, compositions used in film scores, and even songs used behind make-out scenes on melodramatic television shows. Thankfully, near the end of 2010, I was fortunate to have a song I collaborated on be selected for use behind ABC’s “Brothers and Sisters”. All that to say, my first ever royalty check arrived this past summer. Though it by no means paved the way to stardom, it was indeed a milestone in this whole pursuit of being a professional musician. [photo caption: the first check]
10 - Wheels. It may seem trivial and materialistic to you for me to list the acquisition of a new car as a defining moment. Then again, you probably haven’t had the same chronic car issues that we have. Not to start a comparison game, but the last car I drove refused to go in reverse at all for 9 months. Seriously. Sometimes I believe you just can’t put a price on peace of mind… and the ability to back out of a parking spot. [photo caption: the car that wouldn’t go in reverse]
11 - Twenty-eight. I turned 28 this past May. With that came the realization that I am officially much closer to 30 than 20 or 25. I’ve made more references this year using the phrase “when I was a kid” than ever before, not to mention all the zingers I’ve tried dropped in light of the “days of old”, which in turn yielded nothing but the sound of crickets. [photo caption: a fitting sunset as I reflected on 27, driving home from work 28]
Wishing everyone a blessed and enjoyable 2012,
…ev…
I’m often scared of words that I have to think twice about before spelling. In between the times of trying and trying again, there is always the quick search for an easier word to spell than the one I’m attempting to spell, before ultimately taking a stab (usually unsuccessful) at the word.
One of these words is inevitability. There is a finite quality to this word which is sort of spooky. The scariest part of it lies not in its spelling or utterance, but in the actual moment of discovery. When you reach the point of realization where something becomes inevitable, it begins to affect your thoughts, feelings, and may even stunt action. Like the conversation you know needs to take place with a loved one but makes you sick at your stomach to think about… Or the birthday that possess a number so high that you consider yourself growing old rather than merely growing up… Even the instant in which you see your parents aging faster than you can remember how you used to view them…
I recently had a sleepless moment where inevitability was literally looking me in the face. A considerable time after midnight, my body is standing motionless while my hands examine the ins and outs of my scalp in front of the bathroom mirror. There is an ‘island’ of sorts forming on the front portion of my head, separating itself from the rest of my head as if it had been quarantined. Not only did it want to lose all contact with its former family, but it was shredding weight faster than any contestant ever on “The Biggest Loser.” Though I had come to the realization on many occasions before, it hit me in a way I had never sensed prior: my hair was falling out faster than it was growing in. The white flag reluctantly began to raise and wave while the towel soared through the air in defeat.
Headed to bed with sunken shoulders, I crawled beneath the sheets and stared blankly at the barren ceiling. Why is inevitability so hard to swallow and accept? This question led to further questions, as if I was hoping to identify all the inevitable things I would ever encounter throughout the rest of my life. I wanted to face them all right then so I could wake up determined to leave all those thoughts of failure, heartbreak, and disappointment in the past. This is a scary stream of consciousness and thinking which ultimately arrives at the end of the road - death. We live, we die.
It would be hard to argue against John 3:16 being the most quoted scripture within the Bible. I would venture to say that even non-believers could attest to being somewhat familiar with the verse. The latter half of this scripture reiterates the promise that those who have been redeemed will inherit everlasting life. What happens to us upon death is one of the most controversial and widely disputed elements of not just scripture, but humanity. Personally, I am always fearful of apocalyptic discussions and will literally shy away from listening or contributing. I typically struggle with any issue which involves more speculation than evidence. I would be a horrible CSI agent. The truth is that those who believe are not really left with much to stand on other than the promise that Christ will, at some point, come again. Within the Christian faith specifically, it is widely perceived as the ultimate inevitability.
It is at this point that I wonder if all inevitability should be feared. Think about it… if you believe in the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit and confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, then you believe that though He was once nailed to a cross and died, the stone was ultimately rolled away. He whom death had, has, and will never have any hold on fervently promises the same to any who believe. We will live, we will die, but we will be raised again and live life eternal. If we believe what we say we believe, then within our belief there should be no room for fear. The inevitable is no longer that which is waiting in the shadows of darkness but that which holds our gaze above and beyond anything in this world. Our eyes follow the confession of our heart which should encourage us to live and proclaim a continually redeemed life.
At this point, my mind can’t help to wander to a particular scripture which I sometimes love and often times love to hate: “Though the fig tree should not blossom and there be no fruit on the vines, though the yield of the olive should fail and the fields produce no food, though the flock should be cut off from the fold and there be no cattle in the stalls, yet I will exult in the Lord, I will rejoice in the God of my salvation. The Lord God is my strength…” (Habakkuk 3:17-19)
“Break my heart for what breaks yours…”
This lyric has haunted me from the moment it first hit my ears. It comes from a song entitled ‘Hosanna’ that has become somewhat popular within church worship circles over the past few years. There are moments that it has haunted me so deeply that I can’t even sing it when it flashes across the screen. However, it was not until earlier today that it completely shattered me to the point that I had to physically stop and realize what was going on.
It isn’t uncommon for church worship to use such verbiage, asking for our senses to take reference from the divine in how we perceive the world around us. If Christians are really attempting to be Christ-like, you would have to agree that such pleas would hopefully be continual and full of merit. I have no desire right now to theologically break down the meaning of worship or get into a larger discussion of the hows, the whys, and even the why nots… primarily because this lyric no longer reads to me solely in this way.
Whether you believe in God or not, there really is no denying community. You live in one. You work in another. You pick and choose which communities to embace and which to frown upon. Simply stated, we’re not alone. I’m convinced for one reason or another that we’re not meant to be alone. It’s often said that people feel all alone or die alone. That really is a an entirely different conversation based on different circumstances. The truth is we all enter the world because of a mother. Immediately, we’ve already got someone we should be thanking. Above and beyond that, who really wants to go through life alone? Sure… we all need some time to ourselves. The thought of even being present in a certain social situation can create for me an emotional wreck. But ultimately, I believe that deep down we weren’t made to be and really don’t even want to be alone.
If you don’t claim to be alone, you claim to belong. To belong is to be in the midst of something outside of yourself. It’s no longer about me but about us. Sometimes belonging sucks. I can only speak confidently for myself when I say that I tend to get selfish. I’ve thrown some fits and tried to get my way. I’ve tried to pick the lock on the door and run as far away as I can. I’ve embarrassed myself to the point I can’t even look community in the face. I’ve faked a phone call to avoid community and I’ve pretended to have plans so I wouldn’t have to make new ones. Community is scary and messy. But for me, it just got scarier.
How much deeper would the depth of community go if we dared to echo the lyric? What would it mean for me dive into the depth of someone else’s broken heart? If I became convinced of anything today, it was that community begs us to embrace each other. A heart can only beat if it’s not broken. Life needs help to be revived in the trenches. I may not know what it is like for you and the particular pain that you are experiencing, but everybody… EVERYBODY… has felt pain.
Usually for me, this sort of thing happens in reverse. I’ll hear a song on the radio, catch glimpses of a beautiful sunset, or hear a child’s innocent laughter and be thankfully reminded of the mysterious identity of God. But today, something that was intended for God has literally demanded a redefinition of my role within community. And to be perfectly honest, I’m not sure I’m ready for it.
When did music fail to be enough?
Sure… Beyonce can sing. Elton John is a rockstar. Jay-Z is great at what he does. But tuning in and out of the Grammy broadcast, I kept coming back to that question. When did music fail to be enough?
It seems that the Grammy Awards (and furthermore, the music industry) look to borrow criteria from say the Oscars or the Tony awards. In a way, they ask, “What do you have besides this lyric and melody?”
I’m not attempting to be cynical nor am I standing on a soap-box saying that popular music is nothing but a circus of freaks and bad talent. (Side note - Lady Gaga does freak me out and I have a hard time vouching for the ‘other’ two members of the Black Eyed Peas). My point lies in the the fact that the music industry and popular music are no longer holding the actual music at the top of it’s paradigm. The heartbeat of music is drowning in the selling of sex appeal, pretty faces, and bubble-gum beats. And believe me, I’m not naive… we’ve seen this coming for at least a decade or two.
The image of an academic setting comes to mind. Growing up, everything I did was graded on a set scale. For instance, any score between 93-100 was considered an ‘A’ and so on. What I feel has happened and continues to happen is an expansion of the grading scale. Like Harvard deciding to drop it’s minimal GPA to a 2.5, the flood gates of admission into the once premier, upper echelon music industry have been opened up. How else can you explain a periodically tone-deaf Taylor Swift singing alongside Stevie Nicks? Or Leon Russell having to play along to a song with the lyrics ‘all the things we love, like our chicken fried and cold beer on a Friday night…’
Who is to blame? American Idol? N’Sync? Vanilla Ice? Napster? MySpace? Honestly, it doesn’t matter. Because there is hope. The hope lies in subjectivity.
We live in a day in age where we can pretty much listen to whatever we want, whenever we want. I’ll never listen to a Jamie Foxx record. Why? Because I don’t have to. Earlier generations didn’t have this option. Unless they were loaded with cash to spend on music and music players, they listened to what was on the radio if they needed a music fix. All we have to do is push a button on our phone.
Music is mysterious and often magical. It has a way of affecting us, transporting us, lifting us, even depressing us… You may choose the backing electronic beats of T-Pain while I close my eyes and imagine sitting in Abbey Road listening to Ringo come up with something new. PotAYto, potAHto… I’m thankful we live in an age where we can disagree on the means but meet each other at the end - music truly is a beautiful thing.
John Lennon once famously wrote: “Living is easy with eyes closed…” Absorbing all of the things surrounding the earthquake in Haiti, I haven’t been able to shake this lyric from my mind.
We live in an age where the world is very much within our immediate grasp. I’m beginning to see this as a blessing and a curse. Truly it’s a blessing in regards to the ease of finding information on the internet, communicating with loved ones far away via video or phone, etc. There is really no need to explain that any further because all of us can attest to its’ truth. However, there is an element of it which can be rather haunting.
Less than one hundred years ago, the entire scope of communication was entirely different. Before television, you only came to know of information from print media or the radio. You weren’t bombarded with endless images of various celebrity mishaps or the president on vacation. Personally, the first place I turn for the latest happenings in the world is social networking, such as Twitter or Facebook. It was the source that informed me of Michael Jackson’s death. Just a mere 48 hours ago, I found out about the devastation in Haiti via Twitter. Of course, from there I turned on the news and found various online sources for updates. Ultimately, those of us living in today’s age are informed before we’d even want to be informed, know more about a story than we probably would ever want to, and are presented images from things around the globe in a moment which makes us feel like we are physically present.
This is where the haunting can come into play. We can not easily ignore anything, even as badly as we may want to. We do not have the luxury of copping out in regards to our knowledge of devastation and depravity, hatred and hurt. We sit at our computer or in front of our television and literally witness the horror and hell of what other human beings just like us are experiencing at a very moment.
Living would be much easier if we could close our eyes when we see stuff we don’t like… cover our ears when we hear things that hurt us… or turn off our feelings when pain comes knocking at our door. Does the devastation in Haiti immediately affect me? No. I have no loved ones buried beneath the rubble. But what it does to us all is present a challenge which we truly cannot ignore. Will we selectively close our eyes when the world looks ugly? Or will we open up our hearts when devastation comes to stare us down?
In light of all of this, I’m choosing for now to let the words of Theodore Roosevelt answer for me: “Do what you can, with what you have, where you are.” I can’t physically go to Haiti, but I can pray and donate even the smallest of an amount to help the cause. But when I am thrust in the midst of devastation and pain, no matter to what degree, I only hope that I (and all of us) will choose to respond faithfully, appropriately, full of courage, and never lacking in love.
