MURDERER OF FUN
I’ve got a buddy who packs fun into everything he does. More accurately: everything is so fun that I am not sure how anything actually gets done. There’s laughter at every turn, and every question he asks must first be evaluated for being a joke. Spending a few hours with him is something I always look forward to. Spending a few days with him would likely kill me.
I like to think of myself as a fun guy. I love to laugh. I seem to be able to make people laugh. But put a serious goal in front of me and I have a hard time keeping the fun alive.
MR. KILLJOY IS IN THE HOUSE
In my last post I told the story of my first band “breaking up”. What should have been a gang of high schoolers having a great time playing music together I had turned into a grind with schedules, responsibilities, and objectives. In a brilliant coux, the guys removed me from my own band so that they could go back to having a good time. It didn’t occur to me to change my approach going forward. I went straight to work building another band. It would be better. We would work harder.
12 years later: My band is on a U.S. summer tour. I had driven all night through Texas after the previous show, slept a little, kept driving, and it was almost noon. We were traveling with our own production, and were going to be late for all of the setup and soundcheck. We were on a fuel stop, then the final stretch to the next venue. While the fuel was pumping I was quickly changing my clothes and grabbing anything I would need so that when we arrived I could jump into action.
When we pulled up to the venue I turned around to find everyone still in their underwear playing Game Boys, making sandwiches, and generally having a good time. They’d slept all night and half the day and were just beginning to get their bearings. They were living their best rock star life.
I exploded on them. It was justified. There were schedules to maintain and fans we couldn’t let down.
I think about that day often. It didn’t need to go that way. First, I didn’t have to do all the driving that night. We were doing well enough and had a small crew with us. I just loved driving sixty feet of metal down the road and likely felt more in control when I was behind the wheel. Also, being an hour late for setup wasn’t going to compromise the show. Even after I took additional time to ruin everyone’s day by yelling at them, I am sure we were ready in plenty of time to relax, have some dinner, and prepare to rock. One thing I know for sure: That show was compromised. Only it wasn’t because we were late- it was by me murdering the fun that afternoon.
KEEPING THE WHEELS ON
They say there is always someone in every band, company, family, or organization that takes this role. Someone that keeps the wheels on. Those people don’t need to be told to do it. They can’t help but do it. The difference is that many of them can do it without ruining it for everyone else.
I would like to say that I’ve learned this lesson. It’s more likely that I’ve only improved some. I am still demanding, but I don’t have people breaking up with me as often as in the past. I hope that’s an indicator that I’m treating people more fairly. My stomach still burns if I’m going to be a minute late to an appointment, but when with a group I try my best to just laugh it off. It’s progress.
Fun is off of life support and breathing on it’s own.
