Brian Leighton Column (Written 2007)

Musicians walk a fine line between jealousy and respect.  While it’s true that outwardly, Twin Cities musicians are supportive of each other, what they feel on the inside of someone’s success can often be a different story.  How musicians deal with the success of others in the business can dictate how you define your own success in this business.

  As far as I can tell, there is only one artist in town who plays in clubland that deserves and merits the jealousy of other bands and deserved respect.  His name is Brian Leighton. His band is G.B. Leighton.

  Brian Leighton is well known around town as the leading band in clubland in the Twin Cities.  Wherever he plays, he seems to sell out.  His Wednesday nights at Bunkers is legendary and has been packed wall to wall for years.  His audience has grown with him and stuck by him. In the process of doing this, he has also picked up a new younger base of fans that see him whenever they can. 

  He has released multiple original CD’s and DVD’s.  G.B. Leighton merchandise is unparalleled in town.  He always has terrific stuff for his audience to wear and they wear it proudly.  He always has top players playing with him.   The list goes on and on.  Bottom line is, Brian Leighton has figured out how to build and sustain a working band that few have duplicated in the history of the Twin Cities music scene. 

  The path I pursued and Brian pursued are similar in many ways. We both made Bunkers Music Bar and Grill our home base for many years.  We both gained acceptance in this town from our weekly shows, which grew into both our bands playing many other places in town.  Brian and his band appeared many times at the benefit I founded, Heart & Soul. Every time they played, they donated their performance, as well as making their own donation to the cause.  We both list Springsteen as a main influence and we both try and display that type of showmanship and dedication when we perform.  We also both respect our audience. We’ve both seen audience members get married, divorced, experience childbirth, and all the other human occurrences that happen in our age group. 

  While it’s true there are many similarities between us, how Brian conducted the “business” of the music business is what separates him from me, and as far as I can tell, every other band in this town.  How did he do it?  Well, I don’t talk to Brian every day and I have no idea what his master plan is, but as someone who has watched him perform off and on for over a decade, I have some theories.

  Brian did the simple things and stuck to it.  He found a group of guys to be in the band. He asked for commitment. He had a vision of what he wanted his band to do.  He talked to the employees of the clubs and he made them friends.  When those “friends” told people about G.B. Leighton, they told their own friends what a great band it was and how much fun they were.  Brian worked everywhere and anywhere to get the word out about the band and he created a base of die-hard fans. 

  As the band grew in popularity, he kept the core of the band together and they grew as a team.  From the beginning, he conducted the band as a business and he did it very well.  He had a loyal audience, a smart business plan, talent, commitment, vision and a plan to get what he wanted. 

  Other bands have some of these elements. There are great bands out there that if you based it solely on musical talent, deserve to achieve success.  But as everyone in the music business will eventually figure out, it just isn’t about the music. It’s about the “business” of music that eventually decides your efforts.  Lamont Cranston and The Hoopsnakes in their heyday, Martin Zellar, Tina Schlieske did it. The band CBO also has remarkable business acumen, but from what I can tell, G.B.Leighton has been the most successful model.  

  As for me, I’ve achieved a certain level of success in this town and I’m proud of what I’ve achieved.  I’ve attempted a lot of things in this business. Some have succeeded, some failed.  I like trying new things and I’m a bit of a dreamer, despite being in this business as long as I have.  But I am also a realist.  I realize that my success in this town is nowhere near Brian.  I also realize that nearly every other band in this town is in the same boat. 

  As a fellow musician who has been floating around this town for longer than Brian has, should I be jealous of his success or respect it?  To quote Simon Cowbell before he lays down the gauntlet on one of the singers, “if I’m being honest”, I would have to say that I’ve experienced both emotions where Brian is concerned.

  I used to be jealous of the fact that his audience is so loyal and he sells out wherever he plays.   My shows would sell out occasionally, but nowhere near the amount of times it happens for Brian.  Was Brian’s band better than mine?  Our styles were so different it was an apples and oranges kind of thing as far as I was concerned. We both had great bands.   All I knew and know today, is that Brian Leighton’s band always has more people in the club than when I perform at the same club.  No sense getting upset about it. Facts are facts.

  For a very long time, jealousy has not been what I’ve felt concerning Brian Leighton. After all, nothing gets accomplished by being jealous.   I became too old for that crap and it could be one of the dreaded seven deadlys too. To quote my own song LUCKY MAN, “any man who isn’t satisfied, only has himself to blame.”

  Respect is what I’ve felt for the method of his success, his business plan and the kind of man he has become and probably he has always been.   

  We’re both fathers. We’re both lucky to be married to women who understand what we do.  He’s a hard working and compassionate man. He’s a smart businessman.   He’s also a great songwriter and singer.  He knows how to lead a band and his band members are grateful for the steady work.   He’s woven his music in to the fabric of thousands of young men and women in this region and across the country.  He’s made thousands of people happy by his performances and his recordings.  That’s quite an accomplishment.   I have a lot of respect for the man and what he’s created.

  As someone who has the platform to write, on behalf of the Twin Cities music community, we wish you well with your new CD and your future efforts.  Will the critics like your new CD?  Judging from the type of music you do and your huge fan base already, probably not very many.  It has nothing to do with how good your songs are.  It has everything to do with how you are perceived, or taken for granted because of your long success in this town.  That reaction can be frustrating for someone like Brian.  I know because I’m in the same boat as far as the critics are concerned in this town.  But in the end, its one person’s opinions and that person doesn’t pay your bills and the salary for your band.  It’s the people that see you all the time and the people who purchase your songs that any artist should consider. 

  If your future efforts take you to where you want them to be, we wish you all the best.  You and your band have provided a great platform for other bands to duplicate.  If this record doesn’t take you to the level you’ve dreamed of, remember that you have nothing to be disappointed about. You have achieved an enormous amount already. Far more than most. 

  If another band is jealous of a success story like G.B.Leighton, you’ll ignore all the evidence in front of you and continue to flail away in this business.  If you respect his success, maybe you can learn something and perhaps it will help your own band’s success.  I’m learning every day about this business.

  Thanks Brian.  Well done indeed. I’m proud of you.  You have a lot to be proud of.

 

Soul of a Woman

Soul of a Woman

“It took the love of a woman / to steal my shaking hands / like eyesight to the blind / like salvation to the damned / but it took the touch of a woman / to make me who I am – from the song SOUL OF A WOMAN by Kevin Bowe and Mick Sterling

I have been surrounded by women all my life. I was primarily raised by my mother. My father was in my life, but my parents divorced when I was 5. Despite their difficulties in marriage, as far as dealing with kids after a divorce, they did a pretty good job about my father being in our lives, despite living with my mother. There were other issues that weren’t very good, but for the point of this story, I won’t go in to that.

The overriding fact of my life is that I was always around women since I was a kid. As a boy, when you’re in that type of living situation, you see at an early age, the effect women can have in your life. The things that women bring to your life are at times displayed in grand and sweeping ways. In other ways, and seemingly most often, it’s the little things they do that impact a man in the most important and emotional way.

When I was a boy, I had a very hot temper when I played sports. I never got mad at anybody else, just at myself if I screwed up. I had a lot of talent when I did any sport I attempted. When I screwed up, and I screwed up enough times, it would always lead to me throwing a crying, frustration driven tantrum. I hated doing it, but at the time, I accepted that was the way for me to get through it. All of that changed when I was playing baseball one Saturday afternoon for my New Hope Baseball league team.

That particular summer, I was pitching for 3 different teams. None of the individual teams knew I was pitching for other teams. This Saturday afternoon, I was throwing terribly because my arm was killing me from pitching so much. As I was struggling on the mound that Saturday afternoon, I was walking everybody, hitting everybody and losing the game for my team. Each pitch that I threw increased my frustration. Soon I lost control and started a tantrum on the mound and started that frustrated cry that you do when you get in that state. As I was in the thick of it, my mom walked out to the mound. She took the baseball from my hand, grabbed my face, wiped my tears and told me to stop doing what I was doing and that I looked ridiculous and to get it together or we were going home in front of everybody. That shook me up and smacked me back in to reality.

I still lost the game, but her simple words, words that could only be delivered by a mother to a son, resonate with me to this day. Those 30 seconds affects me to this day.

There are so many small things that women do for men. Every man should know that if not for those small things, men’s eternal struggle would be an insurmountable struggle of bad choices and inefficient methods of maximizing your time and energy. For me, and perhaps for millions of other men, the best thing that women do for men is give us the impression that there is someone out there who understands us in a way that only a woman can understand a man. What’s more important, men know that there is somebody out there that wants to care for them in a unique way.

The woman doesn’t have to be in love with you in order for that same woman to understand a man and deal with a man differently. Perhaps it’s with more compassion, or gentleness. Other times it may be more direct and brutally honest. However a woman deals with a man, the majority of the time, it is done in a way, a feminine way that appeals to a man. Granted, there are times it appeals to a man in a sexual way, but at the core of it, there’s just a sense of comfort that a man gets from a woman that he can’t get from a man. The truth of the matter is, for most men, the approval of a woman, not just sexual approval, molds a man from childhood to manhood. Men want the approval of women, more than they want the approval of men. It’s not just about sex, it’s for much more.

There are men I know that don’t trust women or see them as objects, etc. There are men out there that have been horribly hurt by women which skews their opinion of all women. I’m not in that camp. I’ve been surrounded by strong women all my life. I know what they can do. I guess I’m lucky that way.

A few days ago, I saw an elderly couple at church. As the pastor was finishing his service, I watched the woman gently stroke the back of his head, running her fingernails through her hair (I love when a woman does that). She then slowly moved her hand from his neck and down to her side. As a reflex, the man grabbed her hand gently and held it as they listened. I could tell by that interaction that they have done those movements before, probably thousands of times. It was subtle. It was gentle. It was powerful and it took less than 5 seconds. This man and woman needed this intimacy. Why did they feel the need to do that, especially after all the years together?

I’m not exactly sure, but I know what I felt. The woman needed and wanted to do that for the man. She obviously loved him, and he loved her, but it was more than that. The man needed that type of comfort at that time from someone he trusts, a woman he loves. What I was certain of what that the subtle and gentle touches each gave each other was important. The simplicity of it defined their long life together as they found comfort and peace in church that day. While I enjoyed the sermon the pastor preached to the people gathered that day, the interaction between that elderly couple was the most earthly spiritual thing I saw that day.

There are thousand other reasons why I am a big fan of women. Some grander in scope, but mostly, I know they know things that I could never know and I’m grateful that they want to share just some of their wisdom with me occasionally.

I am who I am because of the women in my life. If any man out there is honest with themselves, they probably would say the same thing.

Don’t Leave me Hanging Bro! (Written in Jan. 2007)

The moon is in the 7th house and Jupiter has lost its bloody mind. You have to admit, things are starting off a little shaky.  As 2007 begins, I am puzzled and concerned about fairness and political correctness in America. 

 

In the final days of 2006, Saddam Hussein was finally put to death for all the decades of horrors he put the entire country of Iraq through.  He was a brutal dictator that was found cowering in a hole by American troops over two years ago.   He was held in prison and tried with judges from his own country.  His trial took months.  Saddam spouted off quite frequently in court, which in turn, found its way to the media.  He got to wear a snappy black suit, white shirt, no tie, each day to court.  If he was malnourished in custody, he didn’t show it.  I seem to remember that he quite enjoyed Dorito’s in custody.  Dorito’s are tasty, especially for ruthless dictators.

 

After months of captivity and court proceedings, he was finally found guilty. Within 30 days, the Iraqi authorities, acting upon their own laws, put him to death, by hanging.   I’m assuming when he heard the news he was going to be hung, he requested as many bags of Dorito’s as he could consume and had himself a good “man cry” alone in his cell.

 

On the morning of his execution, he was surrounded by Sunni’s in masks, guiding him to the awaiting rope and hanging platform.  While he was being prepared, someone on the platform told Saddam to “go to hell” and taunted him.  Heavens to Betsy, that’s not nice is it?  It’s not nice to taunt the poor man about to be hung.  Who would be mean enough to do that?

 

My question is, why are some people in this country, the media to be specific, focused on worrying about how mean someone was to Saddam Hussein during his last minutes. 

 

What happened to this society?  Why should we care one bit about how Saddam was feeling or what verbal abuse he received?  Why do we care about the potential hurt feelings of a ruthless dictator who saw to the execution and murder of hundreds of thousands of residents of the country he led.  He had people raped and tortured, remember?

 

Every day on television, we see people being humiliated and treated far worse then Saddam on the hangman’s platform.  Flavor Flav treats his “ho’s” on his reality program worse than what Saddam went through during his entire captivity, and he’s the biggest star on reality TV.  What is it about this society that refuses to accept the fact that in some rare cases, someone is just plain evil?

 

It’s as if there are some out there that are just hoping that Saddam may have been sexually abused by a priest, had dyslexia, and drank tainted water, anything in his life that would explain how he became so doggone mean to people.  There must be something because there is good in everyone isn’t there?  Remember, Mussolini made the trains run on time and Hitler had a cool VW back in the day. That doesn’t mean they deserve to have history rewritten to look past their little indiscretions like a tendency to want to commit genocide and their pesky hobby to take over the world.   Evil is evil and Saddam, I’m sorry to tell you, was evil.  He deserved to die, once it was decided that he should die by a court of his own people.

 

We are a forgiving nation.  We love to forgive people who make mistakes, as long as they own up to it.  I’m grateful that I have forgiveness in my heart.  However, I am also fully aware that the past actions of this man have played a role in the deaths and injuries of tens of thousands of Americans.  I am also full aware that this man lived an opulent life built on violence and intimidation far more severe than the schoolyard variety of intimidation he received on the hangman’s platform.  This was not a “sectarian lynching” as some are saying, it was an execution, nothing more or less. 

 

If there was good in this man, he hid it very well and he showed no signs of it through his reign as the leader of Iraq.  Maybe he was sweet to his kids and grandkids and his wife at times. So what?  It’s easy to be sweet to a 5 year old; they can’t overthrow your government.  Sometimes you just have to come to grips with the fact that some people are just mean and they deserve what they get.

 

What we saw on the hangman’s platform and what we saw during the court proceedings, was that Saddam Hussein was one tough SOB who wouldn’t give an inch.  In a weird way, I respected the fact that he was true to his beliefs throughout this entire proceeding.  I’m sure on his way up the evil ladder, he knew how to take a punch and he sure knew how to give one.   I’m sure at that moment someone yelled at poor Saddam, he was man enough to weather the moment and move on from it.   That’s what we should do.

 

Let’s not worry about hurting someone’s feeling all the time, especially Saddam Hussein.  People are mean sometimes to others.  Just remember, at times, there’s may be a good reason people are mean to mean people. Trust me, Saddam is over it, literally and figuratively.

 

Now, I implore you, enjoy your own Dorito’s in the comfort of your own cozy home while you keep on obsessing about global warming, second-hand smoke and global warming for that matter, the puzzling and baffling career of K-Fed and the unfortunate lack of panties on Britney Spears.

 

The Last of the Troubadors (Written in Nov. 2006)

unlike any other job that is out there.  You may be occasionally applauded at conventions or if you receive an award for your job, but there is no other job where you receive such immediate recognition of a job well done.  That is a perk of this job, don’t let anybody tell you different.

 

However, there is the other side of this job.  The boredom, the disappointment, the betrayals, the financial hardship, the list goes on and on.  It’s easy to dream that you want to be a successful musician, but to actually achieve it takes thousands of hours of practice, performance and trying to avoid the pitfalls along the way.  It takes someone of hardy stock, to hang in there and make a career of what of what non musicians so casually call “playing”.  I am very thankful that I know a person with this same kind of hardy stock.  I am lucky that he wants to know me.  Yesterday, I saw a retrospective of his professional life at the Medina Event Center and it was beautiful to witness.  His name is Sherwin Linton.

 

As someone who has been playing in town for a long time, I had always heard of Sherwin Linton, but I never saw him play.  In 2004, I contacted Sherwin about an event I was producing called LAKE HARRIET LIVE, a concert to celebrate the free refurbishing of the Lake Harriet Band shell. The lineup featured The Honeydogs, Debbie Duncan, TCC Gospel Choir, Boogie Wonderland, as well as my band.  I asked Sherwin to sit in with my band and do a Johnny Cash song.

 

It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon in September when Sherwin got on stage in front 10,000 people.  As I watched from the side of the stage, I began to understand Sherwin had been performing for so long and why people loved him so much.  His charisma is undeniable. His look is unmistakable.  His voice and presence tell you immediately that this is a man who has a passion to perform and an authenticity that makes it work for the audience. 

 

As my band rocked behind him, Sherwin basked in the love that the audience was giving him.  As a front person myself, I always love to see someone command the stage.  Sherwin did. I will never forget that.

 

A year or so later, I was booking a room in Shakopee. I had asked Sherwin to see if his band could perform a date.  I received a phone call from Sherwin while I was in Las Vegas with my band.  Sherwin sounded terrible, very sick.  The gig was just a happy hour gig for very little money.  Sherwin asked me if there was any way for me to find someone else to cover for him due to how sick he was. I told him it would be no problem and for him to get better.  Ten minutes later, I get another call from Sherwin, telling me in no uncertain terms that in his nearly 50 years of performing, he had never missed a gig and he wasn’t going to start now.  That made me love him even more.  He put his man pants on and he did the job.  Sorry for throwing this oft used phrase, but that was “old school” kind of thinking.  As long as he could stand up and have some kind of voice, Sherwin was going to honor his commitment.  Inspiring stuff.

 

In 2005, I had presented an idea to Sherwin about doing a documentary film about his life.  Funding was found for the film and it was beginning to happen.  At this point, the film is on hold, but I hope someday it will be resurrected.  This man deserves to have his life documented for his thousands of fans to see.

 

As I sat inside the Medina Event Center and witnessed over 1000 people hang on his every word, the love for this man was palpable.  As rewarding as it must have felt, as a frontman myself, I suspect there may be been a bit of melancholy inside Sherwin too.

 

Sherwin Linton could’ve taken the route of Johnny Cash, George Jones, Merle Haggard and the other legends of Country music.  He had that talent and he had that drive.  Why those legends achieved what they did are due to luck, timing and of course talent, but at what price? Are you willing to risk your financial, physical and personal health to attain a dream that is on the face of it, is so far fetched?   That is the trade off that all musicians have to come to grips with.  When Sherwin is playing the hundreds of dates he performs every year and hitting the road as much as he does, there has to be a piece of him that feels like he hasn’t achieved everything he wanted.  Such is the struggle all musicians go through, even the ones who others deem have “made it”.   In my estimation, what Sherwin has accomplished is equally important and worthy of praise and admiration.

 

This man has been performing for audiences for 50 years.  I’m not sure non-musicians will ever understand the magnitude of that musical statement. Not only has Sherwin Linton performed for 50 years, he’s performed 50 years and provided himself and his family a quite comfortable way of life, thank you very much.  With the direction of his devoted and brilliant wife Pam, Sherwin is in great hands.  Together, Sherwin and Pam provide their musicians with work.  They bring joy to thousands of people every year inside small clubs, outdoor festivals, conventions and more.  They bring their authentic brand of Country and American music and deliver it with passion and showmanship.  They respect their audience and their audience loves them.

 

Sherwin Linton is a rare success story in the music business.  He’s a troubadour that takes care of business.  I respect that.  I respect the man. I respect the bond and the marriage that Sherwin and Pam so clearly live every day.  All of us in the Twin Cities area and the region are lucky to have a man like Sherwin Linton in our midst. 

 

In the end, this business is a mixture of naiveté, pride swallowing, risk, reward, rejection and praise.  In order to get through those emotions and a thousand others, you have to maintain.  You have to get up, learn the songs, write the songs, find the right players, get the gigs, drive the van, get to the club and hotel on time,  deliver on stage and pay the bills.  Sherwin Linton has done that for 50 years.  Thank you Sherwin for showing the rest of us how to get the job done. 

 

The Mark Foley Blues (Nov. 2006)

   Whoever you may deem as the creator, you have to admit that whether the creator was an actual person or entity or spirit, it was a clever and insightful creator. He (and I will use He for the sake of simplicity, no offense intended for individuals who may believe otherwise) gave us all the tools to do what needs to get done. He provided us a brain that can do miraculous things when life tests you. The only little mistake He made was not giving us the wisdom we all have when we can solve all problems with an effective tool called hindsight.

If we had the power to know what we know when hindsight enters the equation, all of us would be brilliant. Mistakes, sins, errors in judgment, miscalculations, shortcomings, jealousy, bad love affairs, adultery, and a whole list of other emotions and actions, would be no longer happen in our day to day lives. Hindsight clears things up. Hindsight makes us just a little bit smarter than the average bear. The only problem with hindsight is that it never comes along when you need it. You have to place your invoice in to the hindsight office, not in writing, but by your deeds. That creator is clever. You have to admire that type of cunning.

As I’m writing this column, the Mark Foley scandal is like a roaring freight train on all the news channels, talk radio and in print. All of the parties are dealing with their dose of hindsight. How bitter that dose is depends on what your particular hindsight is.

If you’re Mark Foley, his hindsight is a 70 ft man eating squid with razor blades attached to the suction cups. What can this guy be thinking when he looks in the mirror? What was he thinking all of the years that he communicated with young pages in the Congress? Doesn’t matter if he’s gay or straight, he had to know in his gut that what he was doing was wrong? What motivated him to do it in the first place? How could he betray a public trust like that? It doesn’t matter if particular Democrats in the past have gone down that road, or even acted, took it to a physical level with a child, what Mark Foley did was incredibly stupid and immoral and he did the right thing by resigning. The bottom line is, he was in a position of authority and he abused it badly. In hindsight, he would’ve done things much differently.

If you’re the Republican Party, you’re going to be faced with the endless stream of “what did you know and when did you know it” line if questions for the next few weeks. If any Republican knew of the true extent of what Mark Foley was doing, they have to resign. If any Democrat knew the true extent of what Foley was doing, they need to step down.

If the Republican leadership knew about the true extent of this and covered it up just so Republicans could stay in the majority, they have to go. Life goes on, whether it’s a Republican controlled senate and house or if it’s controlled by Democrats.

An argument could be made that if any Democrat knew what President Clinton was doing with Monica Lewinsky, the same rules should apply. The same principles have to apply for both sides. When you’re in a position of authority, you don’t have sex with your interns. There’s another phrase for this type of activity, but it’s a little gross. You know what it is.

Is what Mark Foley did an indictment on the entire Republican Party? No. Is what President Clinton did an indictment on the entire Democratic Party? No. Is power an addictive drug that both sides wait in line for every minute of the day? You bet they do. When you taste that power, your power of reason is threatened. This isn’t the city council meeting of a city the size of New Hope. This is the US House of Representatives and the US Senate and the Presidency. That kind of power has many perks. It also has severe drawbacks that can destroy lives. In hindsight, would any of the parties involved gone through this series of events? No way.

This is a very juicy story. It has all the elements that we salivate over. The way it’s being presented now is that Mark Foley was a gay predator of young children. That’s a risky road to go down for the obvious reasons. If the press continues this line of accusations, they could be accused of gay-bashing Mark Foley. That is not a route that any network or newspaper company wants to go down. It doesn’t matter if Mark Foley was hitting on young men or women, the principle of it is what’s important. That’s what should be presented, not whether he was gay or not. It’s a non-factor in the grand scheme of things.

The only explanation I can think of is that there is a reason that Mark Foley is going through this now. It may be a final slap down for all of his discretions. Or, it may be the kick in the ass he needed to snap out of it. Because in the end, he can’t blame the Catholic priests for allegedly (and oh so conveniently timed announced as well) abusing him as a teenager. He can’t blame the invention of the internet for the instant messages he sent. He can’t blame his lust for younger boys as a disease, he has to come to grips with what his actions have done to his family, his party and the government itself. That’s a lot to ask of someone who just thought he was flirting with a government page. Regardless of that, he has to come to grips with it, in his own way.

Hindsight is the only true friend that Mark Foley, both parties and the press have. It’s a friend they can choose to ignore, or embrace. It’s a friend that may not be telling them what they want to hear, but the right words are at the tip of it’s tongue, just waiting for them to let hindsight speak.

Without hindsight, none of us learn anything. Without hindsight, we keep repeating mistakes. Without hindsight, nothing gets resolved or improved. Mark Foley is not a monster. He hasn’t killed anybody. He’s a sexually frustrated, apparently, lonely man with some major shortcomings who made a lot of stupid and tragic mistakes. But, he has an opportunity to improve. We all do. I’m glad for that. You should be too.

 

The Aftermath of Wild River (Oct. 2006)

Recently I finished a project that was many years in the making.  It was the Wild River Music, Comedy and Film Festival that was held in St. Paul on Sept. 6-10.  The process of creation, finding sponsorship, finding funding, booking the bands, planning the site, took a while.  While this event is unique in so many ways, it’s really no different than any other beginning company. Now that I’m a week away from the end of the event, what strikes me as interesting are the people you meet along the way.

  There is a wide range of reactions you receive from people when they see someone try to do something out of the norm.  As a singer-songwriter, I’ve experienced that many times. It can be as simple as adding a new song to the songlist at a gig.  That song can either work really well right off the bat, or achieve the opposite just as quickly.  If the song doesn’t work as well as you thought it would, how long do you keep trying the song before you decide to give up on it completely?  When I’ve released CD’s, each one has been so different from each other, that it was always a risk of what people would think.  The profession I’ve chosen means that my success is dependent upon the whim of others.

  Many of our early fans of Mick Sterling and the Stud Brothers have their own memories of when the band made an impact in their lives.  Because of that, it’s natural to assume that they would want my music to remain similar to the comfort zone that was created when they found out about us.  Whether it was due to my lack of discipline, or just the wide array of musical influences I had, I could never stick to a certain sound for songs I played a hand in writing.  That’s why when every record came out, there was always a chance of a negative reaction.  We strayed out of the norm of what people expect. When you do that, you risk rejection. 

  When you start a new project, it’s foolish to think that just because the idea may have come from you, that you can accomplish your task alone.  You always need to have a person or persons that believe in you and are willing to give their advice and input to help you achieve it.  Wild River was no different.  The idea was ambitious.  Fortunately, there were some key people that believed in the early stages, to get us to the final completion of the event.  Sometimes those same people aren’t same people you work with at the end of the project.  Sometimes that’s due to a conflict, sometimes it’s just as simple as a scheduling conflict, or the fact that they just wanted to help you in the beginning and let you take it from there.  With my event, some helped a little, some helped a lot. Some wanted to separate themselves, some left with harder feelings. When they left because of hard feelings, it was tough to accept.   Nothing worth doing ever comes easy.  I had to remember that when things got tough putting this festival together. 

  As someone who likes to create things, the people who immediately dismiss an idea always puzzle me.  What’s in it for them to dismiss it?  Are they dismissing it because they think it’s helpful? Is it because there is a level of envy or jealousy?  Or maybe they have no joy in seeing a person possibly succeed.  I suppose there is a combination of those things, and many others, that compel someone to react like that.  However someone reacts to your idea, you better be prepared to expect that reaction in whatever new venture you do, because they’re out there.  You have to have enough faith in what you’re doing to withstand the feedback.

  As I look back at Wild River in 2006, I see the things that worked and what didn’t work.  The things that didn’t work were not a complete surprise to me.  There were many people saying that those projects wouldn’t work.   There were people saying that we were asking too much of people to grasp all the events we were providing for a first year event.  In the end, they were proven right.  Does that mean we should’ve never pursued them in the first place?  A strong argument could be made that we never should’ve attempted those events, but as with every issue, there’s another side to it.  The other side is a simple as this; what if they did work?

  The particular events that were sparsely attended at Wild River wasn’t because the tasks weren’t completed.  The films that were scheduled were shown on time. The bands that were scheduled arrived and performed on time.  The missing equation was the venues weren’t full of people watching these great artists.  While it was disappointing for my partners and I to see such light attendance at these venues, you can plan and plan, but you can’t plan on how many people want to show up for something.

  Knowing what we know now, we won’t repeat some of these things, because you have to adjust things when something didn’t work.  However, if we hadn’t attempted them in the first place, it would bother me more to think we didn’t try it just because of pessimism or caution.  I would feel like we limited ourselves.  Again, the opposite effect could have happened.  All of those shows could’ve been heavily attended.  Live and learn I guess.

  I was very proud of what we accomplished at Wild River. I was proud of my partners who put so much time and energy in to making it a success. I was proud of all of the key people who made it succeed.  I was thankful to have their advice and that they wanted to give it to us in the first place.  I am also aware that you can’t shut out the people who aren’t as sure your idea will work as you are.  Those voices are important to acknowledge.  That doesn’t mean you have to completely change your plans in order to make them feel more comfortable with your idea either.  It just means that you have to be as sure as you can that your idea is worth pursuing.  You have to handle the risk of failure as graciously as you do when something succeeds. 

  In the end, there are people who want you to succeed.  There are people who want you to fail. There are people who could care less and never even think about you and what you’re doing.  Wild River is complete for 2006.  Just like any new business, you learn from your failures and successes and move along.  Wild River had it’s grand opening weekend.  The Al Green/Taj Mahal show on Harriet Island was magical and we made a statement.  Now it’s time for the business to continue.  Open up the gates next year and wait for the people to pass through them.

 

The Diminishing Effect of The Encore

The encore has lost all of its charm. There is no surprise anymore.  It doesn’t matter if the band had an average show, the crowd screams for the encore. The set list of all these bands include the pre-planned encore songs. For the artist, the encore was the way to show your audience that you appreciated the response from the crowd and you just couldn’t leave and you wouldn’t feel right if you didn’t do one more song. For the audience, the encore was the only way you could tell the artist that the show you just witnessed was so good that the show wouldn’t be complete unless the artist does just one more song.  Maybe it was my naiveté as a kid who hadn’t played in a band yet, but there was a time that the encore meant something special.  Lets face it, there’s nothing more pathetic on the stage when a band comes back for an encore that isn’t asked for.  When the band screams from the stage, “Do you want to hear one more!”, almost pleading for the audience to accept them, sorry, that’s just sad. Because of all those things and more, and after playing all these years,  I’ve discounted the encore as just another song in the set. That all changed at Bayfront Blues Festival in Duluth on Sun. Aug. 13^th.  In the acoustic tent that day there was, for a brief shining moment, the resurrection in my eyes of the bona fide, old school, roof raising, if this doesn’t happen this whole tent is gonna burn, encore. It was beautiful. 

   In my performing career, I rarely do encores.  After playing for 3 sets, there’s nothing really left to say.  Most of the time, I’m not sure if the audience really wants it, or their just being polite and asking for one because they think they should.  But my show in the acoustic tent that day gave me a new yardstick to measure if an encore is needed. Since 1997, I’ve performed on one of the outdoor stages at Bayfront with my band Mick Sterling and the Stud Brothers.  Every show in Duluth has been a special show for me.  The audience really dug each show. We were a bit different than the other Blues bands, mainly because we really weren’t a blues band per se.  We had the elements of the blues, but it was based more in the Soul, R&B and E Street Band flavor.  Whatever the reason was, Bayfront audiences treated my band like a champ.  The show was very special for the band too.  The band rose to the occasion and it was a sight to behold.

   After my 2005 show at Bayfront, I drove home and decided on the ride home, that it was time for me to do something different musically. I had just released BETWEEN SATURDAY NIGHT AND SUNDAY MORNING, with a different group of players. The style  was different. The instrumentation and the interpretations of the songs really didn’t mesh with what the Stud Brothers were doing.  As proud as I was of our band, I felt very strongly that it was time for me to take a new direction. I told Bayfront this a few days after I got back. I told them that I had a different band and I would love to play on the main stage again with my new band.  As the 2006 festival approached, I noticed that I was not on the main stage, but in the acoustic tent.   I assumed it was because my band had changed and they weren’t sure if it would work on the main stage.  Because I love the festival, and I was promoting my upcoming event, Wild River Music Comedy and Film Festival, I jumped at the chance to perform in the tent.

   My goals for my show at Bayfront was to show my fans in Duluth a different side of me musically.  I performed with Paul Mayasich, Scott Sansby and Andy Dee for a 30 minute set.  The tent was packed and overflowing on both sides.  The crowd was ready for a great show and I was more ready than I’ve been for a long time.  Basically, I wanted to give them a show they wouldn’t forget. Our set was filled with new songs. All of them received a strong response. Before I did my last song, I thanked the audience for supporting the band for so long.  I then performed a Bayfront favorite, my version of Van Morrison’s classic, In to the Mystic.  That’s when things got really interesting. As the song ended, the crowd erupted and stood up and cheered. I was holding back tears because it was such a genuine and moving moment.  I left the stage with my players as the emcee told the crowd it was time to move from the tent to the next stage for the next show.  Just then, the crowd let out a huge and deafening boo.  It was a sound I hadn’t heard before.  They wanted more and they weren’t leaving until there was an encore. They needed more show. 

   As the emcee furiously got on his radio to talk to the organizers, it was clear the crowd was insistent on getting what they wanted. They screamed, the yelled, they clapped, they wanted more.  I looked at the emcee and gestured that it might be a good idea if we came up for one more song or this thing could get a little ugly.  I felt bad for John (the emcee). I had been in that position many times when I emceed the Heart & Soul concert series. People love their artists, and they want more, but the show has to stay on schedule too. Tough call. Luckily, after a couple of minutes, the organizers decided it was better to run a little late and let us up one more time. The crowd erupted. It was a beautiful thing. 

   As I drove home from Bayfront, what struck me about that moment was how real it was. There was nothing forced. Nothing was taken for granted. The emotion was genuine and the desire was simple and direct. A nearly 10 year relationship between an artist and an audience was solidified that day, forever in my estimation. There is nothing more than any other artist can expect than that kind of respect from an audience. The encore regained it’s position as a goal to shoot for. Not a pre-planned one, but a real one. One where the crowd can’t leave unless the band does one more. One where the artist feels like he or she cheated the audience if he

doesn’t do just one more. The audience and the artist connecting and wanting to give back to each other. That is a bedrock principle that should never be abandoned by an artist or an audience

 

Prelude To Wild River (Written Aug. 2005)

I played T-Ball as a kid at Yunkers Park.  I was small, but I had a big arm and I could swing the bat.  I liked playing any position on the field and I was confident and competent at all of them. As I grew out of T-Ball and got in to regular baseball, I was found out I could pitch the ball very fast.  What I also learned was that I was very competitive. Sometimes I had a terrible temper, (not at others, but I’d get mad at myself if I didn’t do as well as I thought I should.  Thankfully, I grew out of that).  I wanted to be able to do as much as I could when I was on the field.  In my adult years, competitive sports became a fond memory, but the passion to do a lot of things never left me.  I like making things happen.  I’ve found that everything I’ve tried to accomplish in my professional life is just an extension of my T-Ball days.

   I had someone close to me recently tell me that I was out of my element.  He said that I was feeling a bit too good about myself and that I was putting myself in danger of failing.  As I listened to him lecture me about the mistakes he said I was making, I let what he was saying to me sink in.  Was this a friend who made the difficult call to confront a friend to save him from himself? Or was it a friend who didn’t want another friend to succeed?  I thought it was the former when he said it. I found out later that was the latter.  Either way, the call had been made.  Whatever “element” I was in was an element I chose to be in.  If I failed, I had to suck it up and take it. If I succeed, I have to take that too and learn from any mistakes that happened on the way to the eventual success.

   In September of 2006, I’m venturing in to the most ambitious professional venture of my life.   It’s called the Wild River Music, Comedy and Film Festival. It will be held in the city of St. Paul on Sept. 6-10.  My partners, Dav Kaufman and Ken Onstad and I have taken a seed of an idea in Sept. of 2005 and turned it in to a potentially huge event for the Twin Cities and the entire Midwest region. 

   Wild River is a concept that I’ve been working on for 6 years.  It’s a concept that I tried in 2002 that failed miserably.  As embarrassing and humiliating as that was, I learned a few things and it toughened me up.  This event, like Heart & Soul before it, is ambitious and overwhelming at times, but the creative and positive payback makes it worth doing.  I’m hoping that anybody who supports live music in the Twin Cities and the Midwest region will find their way to St. Paul to come to the shows.

   Wild River Music, Comedy and Film Festival is the only festival of it’s kind in the world. There has never been a festival that features music, comedy and film under one conceptual umbrella.  I want this event to be our regions South by Southwest / Sundance Film Festival.  It can happen.  The timing is right.  The location is fantastic. The artists we have to kick off our first year is powerful.

   On Saturday, September 9 on Harriet Island, Wild River is proud to present Rock and Roll Hall of Famer and one of the leading voices in Soul music, the Reverend Al Green. You know Al Green, “Love and Happiness”, “Lets Stay Together”, Take Me To The River”, the list is long and historical.  Playing in front of Al Green is the World  Music Pioneer and hugely popular Taj Mahal.  Taj’s sound is unmistakable and as diverse as it comes. 

   I don’t know if anybody out there remembers RIVERFEST, an event that happened twenty years ago on Harriet Island.  It featured Stevie Ray Vaughan, Stevie Winwood, Whitney Houston and many others. Not to mention, one unforgettable and sweaty performance by Van Morrison. People still talk about that Van Morrison show.  I think the combination of Taj Mahal and Al Green on Harriet Island on Sept. 9^th  is the closest thing to that magical vibe that happened 20 years ago. 

   On Sunday, Sept. 10^th, we have a lineup that is so strong musically and so diverse, it makes me proud to be a part of this.  The majority of the day will feature some of the finest Americana / Roots bands in the nation.   The bands Robinella and The Greencards will open the day.   The Greencards were personally chosen by Bob Dylan and Willie Nelson to play with them on the summer tour in 2005.  Following them will be one of the finest singer-songwriters in the new country genre, Mindy Smith.  Mindy had a huge hit with her song COME  TO JESUS in 2005.  She also did an heartbreaking duet with the songwriter of a song she performs on her CD called JOLENE, the one and only Dolly Parton.  Mindy is a major talent. 

   Here’s where the event gets really cool. 

   Wild River received a call from the estate of Jimi Hendrix a couple of months ago.   They said they wanted to show a film called LIVE AT WOODSTOCK, that featured a ton of unseen footage of  Jimi Hendrix at Woodstock  The film was being distributed by Universal Pictures.  After 3 seconds of consideration, we said yes.  They then asked us if Billy Cox from Band of Gypsies could come and do a Q & A after the film. Hell yes!  He then asked us if he could put together an all-star band that would play Jimi Hendrix songs for 90 minutes at our festival.  Within a few days, we confirmed Vernon Reid and Corey Glover from Living Colour, Bernard Allison, Chris Layton from Double Trouble, Eric Gales, and others, who will burn for 90 minutes at Wild River on a Sunday afternoon.  Amazing stuff.

   The Sunday night on Harriet Island ends with one of the coolest and musically potent acts performing today, Nickel Creek.  I love this band.   Their videos are featured quite often on CMT and VH1.   They are critically praised and have a huge fan base.  What I love about this day is that you have Americana all day, throw in a Hendrix band and then you end with remarkable Bluegrass and Country. I can’t think of a better way to spend a summer night.

   Wild River also features music at the Roy Wilkins Auditorium with MN buzz bands like The Hopefuls, White Light Riot, The Alarmists, Jessy Greene, This World Fair and many others. We also have the incredible Kelly Joe Phelps who will  perform an intimate show at the Minnesota Music Café on Wed. Sept. 6.  Music will also happen at Station 4 in downtown St. Paul.

   Our films will be at the 3M Theatre at the MN. Historical Society.  We have a film featuring Glenn Tilbrook, who wrote all those great songs from the band Squeeze called  ONE FOR THE ROAD.  Our Hendrix film will be the premiere film on Friday, Sept. 7^th.  All of films are comedies, films about music, or art. That is our stamp.  For a first year event, we have some great films.  Easy to access and not too intimidating.

   Wild River will also feature comedy on the U of M Showboat. Hosted by Twin Cities legend Colleen Kruse, the showboat will feature performances by comedy troupes Idiot Box and the comedy institution that is the Brave New Workshop.  Colleen has also brought a huge group of regional stand-ups to perform.  The comedy portion of Wild River will happen on Thursday and Friday, Sept. 7-8.

   I know what you’re thinking.  I’m crazy. I know it.  But stick with me for a minute. 

   An event like Wild River needs to happen. This region needs it.  Our music and artistic community deserves it for all the amazing talent that is here.  Wild River is a national event that will turn in to an international event.  Remember, every international event has to be from somewhere. This one is from St. Paul.

   I’m proud of what we’ve accomplished. I want all of you to come to this event. I think you will have a great time.  Hopefully, you’ll discover some new cool things while you come to see something you’re familiar with. 

   Wild River Music, Comedy and Film Festival will happen Sept. 6-10 in downtown St. Paul.  Free up your calendars.  Bring your kids. Bring your lawn chairs and blankets and soak up the sounds on the river one more time before the summer ends.  Your attendance will assure that this concept can happen in this region for many years to come. 

   See you at the show!  Go to www.wildriverfestival.com  for tickets and for

complete information on the event.

My Friend Mark (Written Aug. 2005)

  I received a letter from a law firm today. It was a letter that was sent to a former building where I did some work.  As with any letter from a lawyer, it’s not the first thing you want to open.  When I did, I read with great sadness that a dear friend of mine had passed away.  It hit me in a particularly unusual way.   

  When I worked with this friend of mine, he never wanted his name printed. He never really wanted anyone to know his involvement in what he was doing, outside of the people  he actually saw while he was working with me.  As reclusive as he was, his outward demeanor was gigantic.  This was a man who could charm the socks off of you one minute and then just as easily, drive you crazy.  He was the imperfect combination of grace and a bull in a china shop. 

  Being his friend was an honor most times. At other times, he made it very difficult to know him. It wasn’t the equivalent of Peter denying he knew Jesus, but you get my point.  It was tough to be his friend at times.  I suppose it would’ve been easier for me to not know him in some circumstances.  But I did.  He frustrated me more than any man I’ve ever known.  He made me laugh.  He had my back. I had his back.  He loved me.  I loved him. Today I found out he was dead, weeks after he passed away. 

  The fact that I just heard about his passing is something that stings.  As much as my friend and I had been through, the fact that I wasn’t there to honor him when he died makes me feel ashamed. 

  I met my friend at the old Mpls Café on Hennepin Avenue. It was in conjunction with the festival I produced for Camp Heartland called Heart & Soul. My friend was one of the early volunteer leaders for the event. He was the security leader.  Through the process of the event, we became very close.  He shared things with me.  I shared things with him. 

  In the early days of Heart & Soul, it was a very small team of people that made it happen.  My friend was one of them.  He supported my crazy ideas. He corrected me when I was getting too big for my britches, and had ideas that had no chance of actually happening.  He believed in the mission of Heart & Soul to help kids living with HIV / AIDS and, of course, the mission of Camp Heartland.  In the early days of Heart & Soul, my friend contributed hundreds of hours of his time to make sure we had a successful event and we sent as much money as we could to Camp Heartland.  At the last one I did in 2005, he was there sharing his friendship with me and asking if he could help in any way.

  His friendship extended in to my immediate family.  He adored and was amazed by my family and how my wife and I dealt with each other as young parents with small children.  He was larger than life and my kids loved that.  My friend gave some life saving advice to me when my mother was showing early signs of a stroke.  His advice helped my mother find the right doctors at the right time to save her from a severe stroke.   How can I thank him enough for that?  This man entered my life and made a difference.

  As I said, he was a frustrating man at times.  He occasionally frustrated my volunteer leaders at Heart & Soul. He occasionally frustrated and angered my bandmates at Bunkers during the run of Mick Sterling and the Stud Brothers.  He had a habit of calling people “Sir” and “Madam”, which would puzzle people.  For him, it was a sign of respect.  For the recipients of the “Madam” or “Sir”, it would come across as unnatural.  He had that talent to confound people.  That was part of his charm to me.

  As I said, being his friend wasn’t always easy.  He and I had words a few times to the point of screaming. We hurt each other. We misunderstood each other. That happens with friends sometimes.  But I never doubted that I was special to him.  He never doubted that he was special to me.  It was an unusual friendship.

  There were times that we wouldn’t speak for months, but when we did, we were able to pick up right where we left off.   That stuff happens when you have that type of friendship.   Hard to explain, it just is.

  My friend was diagnosed with Pancreatic Cancer.  When I heard that last year, it saddened me.  Not just for the fact that he had Cancer and he was my friend, but the actual type of Cancer he had. My father in-law had passed away from that same kind of Cancer a couple of years before.  It is a very quick and decisive type of Cancer.  My friend knew that, but he wasn’t ready to accept it. He tried alternative types of medicine to combat it.  For a while it worked.  Today I found it didn’t work.

  Here’s what I’m struggling with.  I knew he was sick. I last spoke to him late in 2005.  I didn’t speak to him again after that.  Why did I do that?  Why didn’t I check in with someone who had shared so many moments with me and my family, both happy and sad?  I suppose the same thing could be said for him. He could’ve called me and told me how he was doing.  But honestly, it should’ve been me checking on him. I didn’t. I think part of me just doesn’t want to invest time in to someone who, at times, has caused turmoil in my life.  It’s a terrible reason, but I think it’s the truth.

   I’m not feeling like much of a friend to him or his memory today.  I should’ve been at his funeral.  I should’ve known when he died and I should’ve tried to be of comfort to him in his final days.  I wasn’t.  I didn’t know. I didn’t inquire about him before he passed away. 

  Any man wants to make an impact with his time on earth.  My friend did.  He wasn’t perfect; who is?  He made friends and enemies; who hasn’t?  As much time as I spent with him, there are many things about him that I have no idea about.  He was a mysterious man, but at his core, he could show the capacity of great tenderness and love.  He showed me that side of him many times.  I hope he counted me as one of his friends when he was in the final moments of his life.  As I read the letter from his lawyer, I know that he was a blessing to me.  His friendship helped me.

  His passing has made me examine many things about myself.  Death has a way of doing that. I should’ve been a better friend to my friend during this illness.  I wasn’t.    How  anybody acts on those examinations is what defines you as you get older.  I’m missing my friend today. I have to think about and improve  how I deal with painful episodes when they enter my life.  My friend deserves my attention to this aspect of my life.

  Goodbye Mark.  Thank you for showing me such concern and love and undying support of my personal and professional life and for loving my family.  Mostly, thank you for being my friend.  I’m sorry I wasn’t a better one to you when you needed one the most.

 

Mick has something say about Mick (Written in May 2005)

When you pepper your conversation with others and you address the other person in the third person, everything you say, or think carries more weight.  What you say is more important.  I’ve noticed lately that the people on reality TV and the music business feel the need to speak in the third person.  I’ve noticed lately that Mick thinks he may have to hurt someone if Mick hears it again.

 

What does it take to gain this type of confidence to merit speaking in the third person?  Perhaps it’s the environment of never-ending entertainment. We must be entertained every second of the day.  We must listen to our I-pod as we blog on our laptop with HBO in the background.  Because of that, if we don’t elevate our words to match our surroundings, speaking in the third person separates you from the other serfs who speak normally.

 

In the land of third person, the choices you make seem inconsequential.  You don’t have to worry about how the other person feels. The only thing that matters is how you feel.  Because after all, only you know exactly how you feel and you are the only person competent enough to comment about your own choice.  Spontaneity is thrown out the window in the hamlet of the third person.   Spontaneity requires another person in the equation.  People who speak in the third person work alone.

 

It’s hard to judge the self-esteem of someone who speaks in the third person.  Do they say their own name to validate their worth, or are they so cocky that they just love hearing themselves say their name?  If they’re saying it to remind the other people in the room about their existence, it can have an opposite effect.  In the end, the more the person speaks in the third person, the more the listener erases the name being drummed in the listeners head.

 

As a lead singer, I’m not a stranger to the concept of the third person.  You have to put yourself in every song you sing.  It’s not as blatant as actually saying your name in the song, (I don’t sing MICK STERLING WEARS HIS WAR WOUND LIKE A CROWN, to the tune of LEVON), but I’m in each song I sing.  While I want what I sing to express something about me, the melody is what separates the singer from the third person.  Unless you are performing in Spoken Word, it’s damn near impossible to sing a song in the third person.  Mick is thankful for that.

 

Pregnant women should get a pass to speak in the third person.  They deserve any and all opportunities to express to everyone how much their pregnancy is changing their bodies.  Let’s not even talk about the actual birth.  Every pregnant woman should preface everything they feel with how it’s affecting them.  If it bugs us, too damn bad. They have a bowling ball living inside that has to emerge from a space the size of a mini-donut. 

 

It could be argued that speaking in the third person is a sin against God.  Even God when he made himself known to Moses didn’t say, “The Burning Bush has been waiting for you Moses”. God said, I AM THAT I AM (I know this because of Charlton Heston, so my knowledge of this isn’t all that impressive).  My point is, even God has the courtesy not to speak in the third person.  Are people who speak in the third person more important than God?  I guess it depends on what’s going on in their life at the time, or if they had enough coffee in the morning.

 

Our lives are increasingly becoming a solitary existence. We still feel the need to communicate and touch people, but physicality and the spoken word is not necessary anymore to communicate your thoughts.  Because of those things, maybe people are so unaccustomed to actually speaking to someone in person that they feel the need to lend more importance to the interplay if they speak in the third person.  Or, maybe they just weren’t brought up right.  It could go either way I suppose.

 

One thing is for certain, as long as our icons speak in the third person, we’ll follow suit.  My wife Kristi reminded me yesterday of the ultimate third person declaration from Mary J. Blige.  Mary was asked to what she attributes her long success in the music business. Her reply was this; “Mary J. Blige is humble”.  When you’re as big as Mary J. Blige, or any superstar, your name is a company that has employees that depend on that name, so speaking in the third person can be a declaration that she knows that there’s her public face and then there’s a private face.  But her declaration was false.  Her brand name isn’t humble.  Humble doesn’t sell records.  Her declaration was a true testament to how she understands that her public face and her brand name face are one in the same.  In her world, she is humble.  Interesting and a little bit sad.

 

Mick has run out of ideas for this column. Mick needs a sandwich. Mick wishes someone would make him a sandwich.