It’s something that I still have a hard time with. I see the goal. I see the outcome. I see that I missed the goal, not once, not twice, but three times. But I have to be reminded of the journey.
I’m watching TV one night and I see this guitar player jamming away. I wanted to write songs. I’d seen my dad write songs. I begin to write. I write one of my first songs about a celebration of one of my friends from school beating cancer. I was insanely nervous singing that song in front of my youth group. That was the first and last time I was nervous singing. Made some good friends through that. I’m walking around singing one day and a friend of mine hears me. She says, “you should think about doing that for a living.” A few years later as I’m finishing high school, I begin pursuing a career in music.
I began going to writers’ nights. Met many great writers. I had cuts, mostly by new bands or artists that never made it. Made some lifelong friends during that phase. There are a handful of people I still talk to from that phase of life. People that if I called today, they’d help me with whatever I needed. At the end of the day, I did have three cuts that made some noise, one of which was an all-star cast of artists. It went to #75 on billboard. On that song, “Dare the World”, I was a writer, producer, played acoustic, sang background, and sang one lead line (because I forgot to get that line from anyone else).
I then moved into being an artist. It started with sitting in with a band led by Eddie Dunbar. That led to 6 different production deals. With each step, I made friends with the producers themselves, the players on the sessions, and writers that helped contribute. I spent a great deal of time in studios. I made friends with engineers at these studios. Made lifelong friends. Still talk to many these days. Some of the more notable producers were Jay DeMarcus from Rascal Flatts, Rob Galbraith (Ronnie Milsap’s producer), Shelby Kennedy of the famous Kennedy family (with credits like Garth Brooks, Reba), among others.
During this time I played the bar scene in Nashville. I spent most of my time at a bar called the Fiddle and Steel Guitar bar. Here I met many cool people, met a couple of heroes, and made lifelong friendships that stand strong today. I got to hang with Michael English, Toby Keith, Eric Church, Gary, Jay, and Joe Don from Rascal Flatts, and a host of others. I met my future wife there. I became close with the pickers that played with various artists. That period of time was a blast.
After 5 production deals came to an end, I took one last shot. I formed a band of a bunch of great players. Started with players that are world-renowned. Two of them chose to move in a different direction in their career. I ended up with a group of amazing musicians that seem to gel together nicely. We began playing out, writing, and pitching our sound to various labels. We then went into the studio with Rob Galbraith and Regie Hamm to record some amazing music. Warner Brothers was on board. They loved what we were doing. We were about to be signed when they had a meeting and decided that were simply were not country enough for where the industry was headed. And like that, 15 years of pursuit came to screeching halt. I looked around and realized no one was looking for the next big 36-year-old. It’s a young man’s game.
The next two years felt like one long funeral. It felt as though someone close to me had died. I was attempting to come to the realization and understanding that the idea of me touring with a record was out the door. But it still felt like someone sucker punched me in the gut. It felt like I had been chewed up and spit out of the industry. This contributed to my divorce.
That leads me to the journey. Looking back on that, it was the journey all along that was the part I remember the most. It was those I made lifelong friendships with that stood out. It was the process, not the culmination. It was the journey, not the destination. To this day, I’m still close to Eddie Dunbar.
As this was wrapping up, I began officiating basketball. I quickly moved from refereeing middle school to high school, to college, to minor league professional. As I began, I wasn’t sure if I was any good. As I began getting hired by college conferences, I felt that I may have something. I spent thousands of dollars each summer on training to get better and better. I moved up the ranks until I was given a verbal queue that I would be on a division 1 staff. That person was fired from that D1 position before he could see that through. I continued to push forward but fairly quickly saw the writing on the wall. And the writing was familiar. It was a young man’s game. I made it up to D2 and everything below. There I settled in. I failed again. But there was still high school.
I came to my 16th season of refereeing high school ball and was selected to the state tournament championships. There were only 14 refs selected, so it was definitely an honor. Of those 14, there was only one there that had been in the TSSAA longer than me. At the end of the week, 12 were selected to work a championship game. I had a very good week. But I was aware that the leader of the state simply did not like me. All I could do is do everything he asked of me to the best of my ability. And that’s what I did. It wasn’t enough. When asked what I could do better, I did not receive an answer that I could do anything about. He just didn’t like me. Once again, 16 years and I feel like I’ve been chewed up and spit out of a profession for nothing that I could control. I spent the next two weeks trying to find the energy to get out of bed. I’ve now failed majorly three times!
This leads me to the journey. The refs that I’ve met through the years are now lifelong friends. I’ve had many times where they came to my rescue, and I’ve come to theirs. At any moment, if I’m near their town and I need anything at all, they’ll be there. I have no doubt.
If the why is people, I’ve been blessed beyond measure. It doesn’t make the ending any easier. It’s still painful. It still makes you wonder. But it was never about the destination anyway. It was about the journey. Thank God for the friends. Thank God for the fun stories. Thank God for the journey. If you take anything away from this story, the destination takes care of itself. So don’t ever lose sight of the journey.
Stay Classy GP!
Grainger