There are moments in life where you feel small and insignificant. Friday night for me, was one of them. Trent and I went to see Ray Lamontagne, the folksy, sandpaper-voiced singer-songwriter who can break your heart, renew your love for your lover, and lift you off your seat within a few bars of any song. His three albums are enough to put a big lump in your throat, and seeing him live is as chilling. It makes you want to be good, if not great at something. This man sings for all the right reasons. Not to make money, not to gain fame, in fact he's practically a recluse, and says nothing but thank you during an entire set. He writes and sings from the inside out, he sings because he is meant to, and projects that through the emotion with which he uses his voice.I already get soft going to the symphony, wishing I had taken up the violin at a young age, pursued music, and made something of myself. When I was in high school, my tenth grade history teacher told me I should become a DA, because no one could argue against me, and I was the best bullshitter he knew. So, I decided I'd stop screwing around in school, and become a lawyer. That's what I planned to do when I applied to college. Something went askew when I got rejected from my dream school, scored remarkably low on my AP exam in history (that I not only didn't study for, but decided on the day of the exam to take it), and ended up majoring in journalism that changed the course of all my childhood dreams. Damn you MARS class scheduling system at UMCP!
So, seeing Ray with the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra was a dose of both enjoyment and woe. I enjoy the show, but I start regretting that I don't see the BSO more often, or that Lyla doesn't listen to anything but Countdown Kids, Dora songs, and Poker Face.
I start feeling guilty before Lyla is even of the age to be cultured, that she's not cultured enough. I close my eyes and breathe deep with the satisfaction that Mozart, Brahms, Bach, and Handel bring to my ears, and the dissatisfaction I feel in myself for pursuing nothing important in life. I know how to do very little, I study nothing, I have little passion for anything I do, and I speak with no expertise on any subject.
All of the arts do this to me. I start thinking how we need to become more involved in the art community, support the symphony, go to the ballet, or sit on a board of something that supports something good. I also decide Lyla should become an artist, a musician, and a dancer respectively.
The Olympics has the same effect on me. Every sport I watch, I think, "Should we put Lyla in that starting at 3, so she can become passionate, and eventually be in the Olympics?" Then I think of those gross parents that have their two year olds in pageants and crap like that wearing lipstick singing Dixie Chicks songs, and I wake up. There are even a few people who have already talked about holding their sons back in kindergarten so they can be older to play football in high school. I won't be that parent.
Anyway...
This is all somewhat relevant, because Ray Lamontagne squashed his desire for music at a young age because of the passion his abusive father had for it. He only escaped his fate as a shoe factory worker when he heard the Stephen Stills song, "Treetop Flyer" wake him up for work one morning. He decided at that moment, to start his career as a singer, and worked as a carpenter on the side to earn money. The man knew what he was meant to do, and he dropped everything to do it. Now, he is not only making incredible music, he is touring the country and giving back much of the proceeds to The National Children’s Cancer Society. What a story.
I've really never taken a chance on anything [but love] in my whole life. Which, I guess paid off, because Trent and I really shouldn't have ended up together, since I was fighting against anything that resembled a boyfriend when Trent walked into my life. I moved to L.A., had nowhere to live, no job, got mugged, broke up with my sometimes boyfriend, and was falling asleep in my car and at my desk from the sleeping pills I was taking to treat these weird fevers I was getting fevers I got. Let's just say I needed to work on getting good old Jen pieced together, so I was a tad resistant to embarking on a long distance relationship with a guy who just broke up with a girl I knew, and knew everyone else we knew. Well, he told me in a letter to take a chance on "us" and I did, and well, after 10 years, you can see where taking chances more in life could help me. So, if I run away to join the circus this year, you read it here first.
I seriously digressed from the subject at hand here, which was the concert, but like I said, it's nights like that that make me wonder what we are all meant to do.
In the mean time, I should probably just continue with my shallow exploitation of celebrities, fashion, and the countless reality shows I TIVO each and every day.
Enjoy five of my favorite Ray Lamontagne songs won't you:
1. Trouble
2. Hold You in My Arms
3. Three More Days
4. Till the Sun Turns Black
5. You Are the Best Thing
As a bonus, I have embedded Ray's cover of Crazy, the pop hit by Gnarls Barkley.
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