Monday I took my church keyboard to Norfolk for repairs.
After my 2-hour journey (which included stopping by Regent to take Sarah to lunch), I pulled up in front of the store and went in.
There were three employees there, all young men in their 20’s and 30’s. They sported band t-shirts, cool, shaggy hair, and funky jeans. In fact, if you were to happen to see them walking down the street many miles removed from a music store, you would still know they were musicians. They had The Look.
And me? Could they tell I was also a musician? Probably not. (Well, apart from the fact that I was bringing them my keyboard.)
I have no doubt that when I walked in and their three heads raised from what they were doing to size up their new customer, they were all thinking the same thing. “Meh. Middle-aged, grandma-type, unfunky hair, slightly plump, not at all cool. But looks nice enough.”
And I am certainly fine with that. If I were a young musician in a music store, I would have made the same split second assessment.
The young man who greeted me was polite and courteous as he carried my keyboard in and talked with me about what needed to be fixed.
All fine. All dandy. Just another business transaction in the middle of another business day.
But you know what?
I was so very, very tempted to drop the middle-aged momma persona and tell those young guys “the rest of the story.”
Because here’s the thing.
There are thousands of amazingly talented musicians on this planet, most of whom dream of making a living with their music. However, only a small percentage ever succeed at doing that.
And what those guys did not know about the non-impressive middle-aged mama in their midst was that I had made a living with music for sixteen years, traveled full-time to about 35 states, covered 500,000 miles, wrote songs, and recorded 12 studio albums. Over the course of sixteen years, Steve and I (and our various band members including my two sisters and a brother-in-law) averaged about 180 dates a year.
(Actually, what Steve and I did included more than just music since Steve also preached in the churches we went to; however, music was a huge part of what we did.)
Steve and I have recorded CD’s with some of Nashville’s best players providing the track for songs we have written. (On about half our CD’s we played our own instruments but we eventually transitioned to studio players.)
We have loaded gear in and out of so many buildings I have lost count. I have been 8 months pregnant with a 6-year old child in tow, setting up and tearing down equipment all over the country. We’ve been broken down by the side of the road in huge cities and on deserted country roads.
In this particular RV, the engine was accessed from the inside, hence the hinder most parts of Steve and my brother-in-law, Randy.
After driving and living in some pretty old, decrepit vehicles, we eventually worked our way up to this lovely rig which, like all the vehicles before it, was our full-time home. And that semi truck was my family car, which I drove to the grocery store, Wal-Mart etc.
We started young, with my two sisters who were still in their teens. They lived with Steve and me in a battered old 31- foot R.V. for 18 months.
This is one of my favorite road pictures. Steve (who was raised without sisters) had to get used to living with three women in very close quarters. He was a real sport.
We entered a large music contest in Asheville, NC and took third place. The prize was a recording package at Mark Five recording studio in Greenville, NC.
The studio was owned by Eddie Howard who ended up producing half a dozen albums for us.
The kids spent a lot of time in those studios . . .
in vans and trucks . . .
and in churches and auditoriums.
The kids also got involved in the setting up process as seen in this picture when Nathan is helping his Grandpa Campbell unload stuff.
We went through quite a few permutations over the years.
We met thousands of people and sang in enormous, fancy buildings, store-front churches in inner cities. rural churches bordering corn fields, and metropolitan churches, one of which was in Arlington, VA and had people of 55 nationalities in attendance.
We did a little TV and radio and plenty of outdoor concerts in all sorts of settings. We got a kick out of the fact that our contemporary christian band was placed on a flatbed trailer advertising beer.
I could write story after story after story of our adventures but that isn’t really the point of this particular post.
The point is this:
It is so easy to see someone and sum them up in an instant without knowing a thing about them. I have done it countless times and you probably have, too.
The guys in the music store did what we all are prone to do. They put me in a preconceived middle-aged mom category, never dreaming that I have probably done more concerts in my life than the three of them combined.
I wasn’t upset about it then and I am certainly not upset about it now because they didn’t do a thing wrong. In fact, they were the epitome of courtesy and professionalism.
I just look upon the incident as a lesson to myself to never stop being curious about the story behind each person I meet. The temptation is to size them up, look at their clothes, their hair, their bearing, their socioeconomic status and imagine I’ve got them figured out. But I don’t.
It reminds me of a man who came to a meal our church was serving a while ago, someone most people wouldn’t look at twice. He was slightly over the hill, more than slightly unkempt and at first glance, not exactly impressive. Turns out he used to a university physics professor.
Who knew?
Who really knows anything about anyone at first (or second) glance?
And so this blog post is written to myself, reminding me that I should always give people a chance to show me who they are before I plop them down into the category I have created for them. Because I sure appreciate it when people do that for me.
And that’s my thought for the day.
Signed,
The Middle-Aged Mom
What about you? What is that people would never guess about you when they first meet you?
Becky, did you ever play at spiritual emphasis week at A/G headquarters in Springfield. I worked there from December 1996 through May 1998 and remember a family being the featured “act” on of those weeks. Just wondered if it might have been you.
Phyllis,
Nope, that wasn’t us. But it sure would have been fun if it had been! 🙂
Thought provoking post, Becky. I am as guilty as the next person. I realize it happens most often when I’m in the roll of protector like when my son was young or now with my little grandson. Otherwise I like talking to whoever is available!
I still have some of your cassette tapes and when able to play, Double Dose is still top of the list and was my son’s favorite. It still is and at 27 he still remembers it! Loved every time we were able to worship with you in southeastern CT. I recall one of your breakdowns was here and I was able to suggest a place for you guys to get parts … lol…all church secretaries are well rounded!
Guerrina,
That is so funny that your 27-year old son still remembers Double Dose. It is my mom’s favorite song that we ever did. Tell your son a voice from his distant past is saying hello to him today. 🙂
Thanks for suggesting a place to get parts all those years ago–church secretaries are the best!
Great post! We met a chap on the beach this summer, at first glance just a retired gent picking for fossils. Turned out that he worked with the British Antartic Survey team for years! Really interesting and still relevant work even though he retired about 15 years ago! A good lesson in judging a book by its covers for all of us! Ps just about to move…found a huge pile of zip locks down the back of the drawers, made me smile and think of you!
Wendy,
I bet you so enjoyed that conversation with the fascinating fossile-picking fellow. I love it when life unexpectedly introduces us to interesting people; I’m glad you didn’t pass up the opportunity to cross his path.
And I’m happy there is someone else with a huge pile of Zip-locs in the back of the drawer; we need to start some sort of club. I never knew the problem was so prevelant! 🙂
Great post Becky, when we first moved to Kansas 20 years ago, I was the room mom for my daughter’s fourth grade class and had to put out sign up sheets for parents to sign up to bring certain supplies for the parties throughout the year. So this blonde women, a little ditzy in my mind, signs up for a party late in the year and I am thinking well that is one I will certainly have to call and remind…..patting myself on the back for being so organized….well it turns out, she became one of my best friends, one of the nicest, NON JUDGMENTAL people in the world, and she wasn’t ditzy at all, she had her PhD in Engineering and was a professor at Kansas State University, she commuted 2 hours out to K-State, 2 hours back 3 days a week and was a divorced mom raising 3 kids, she was JUST exhausted all the time!!!! Boy, was my face red, I told her my first impression when we became close friends and she just thought that was hysterical and reminds me about it even to this day!
Dale,
I LOVED your story about the blonde-haired “ditzy” woman! And I really love that after you got to know each other, you told her your first impressions and that you both got a chuckle out of it.
I am inspired by just hearing about her–the PhD, the long commutes, the professorship, raising children on her own. So many amazing people with whom we get to walk life’s path.
Long time reader, first time commenter. I just want to throw something out there because it struck me as funny. You assumed that they had you pegged as not a musician, as perhaps nothing more than a middle aged mom type who couldn’t possibly have paid their dues as a struggling musician. Perhaps you chose to leave out parts of the story that clearly show that they did take you only at face value, but as the story is written you made a judgement about who they were too.
One of my very close friends appears to be very young and works for a large guitar store chain on weekends. He is in to music, has The Look, and was in several bands as a young(er) person. My friend has a 4 year old daughter battling retinoblastoma and works on weekends to help offset the cost of treatment, by day he works in an office managing production flow. So although we all make judgements as part of our toolset in navigating the world (we have to!) maybe those employees didn’t assume anything about you based on your presentation in their store outside of “person coming in with keyboard that needs to be fixed” and you were projecting a little on to them. What if one of those guys had the same opportunities as your children and when you walked in they thought “She reminds me of my mom, the super amazing musician, I bet she thinks I only care about what is new and current.”
So many relationships never start because we think we know what others are thinking about us. I always try to use the times where I’m feeling judged as an opportunity to check my mindset. Often times I feel most judged when I am feeling like an outsider so I acknowledge my feelings and try to address the feelings in a way that doesn’t also have me being a judgymcjudgerson.
Just a thought.
J Bradd,
I’m always happy to hear from a first-time commenter; thanks for taking the time to join the conversation.
What you wrote is a great example of what I mean when I say that the comments are the best part of the blog. My readers open my eyes to so many new things and help me see viewpoints I might normally never think about.
I love the perspective you provided and I agree that, without even being aware of it, I was maybe being a little judge-y on my end with the music store guys; not necessarily in a negative way because I thought they were very friendly and courteous. But I probably did read more into the transaction than I needed to, doubtlessly because of my own insecurities.
I loved when you said, “I always try to use the times where I’m feeling judged as an opportunity to check my mindset.” What a great reminder to all of us.
I was sad to hear about your friend who has the daughter with cancer. I know he must be so exhausted working a full-time job, in addition to weekend hours at the music store and also dealing with his daughter’s hospitalizations and treatments. A cancer parent juggles love, worry, uncertainty, exhaustion and hope—sometimes all in the same five minutes. I can honestly say I understand at least a part of his journey since Sarah was 6 when she was diagnosed with neuroblastoma. My heart goes out to him and his family.
Again, thanks for commenting. Would love to hear from you again!
Loved your post. First thing folks would never know about me is that I’m a PK. For those that don’t know, preacher’s kid. We also sang with mom and dad at churches. Was not born into a Christian home, but that’s another story. Many of those pictures with the kids are what I remember when you were traveling because you came to our church in Minnesota. Think Sarah was about 3 or 4. Sooo cute(just a more mature cuteness now). Have about 3 or 4 of your cd’s. You were a blessing then and even more, knowing the trials and blessings you have gone through.
Sharyn,
How fun to hear that you grew up singing with your family, too! Those are some great memories, aren’t they?
And it’s so great to know I have a few readers who actually heard us sing back in our road days. How cool is that? 🙂
Great post. Such a reminder not to judge people but get to know them. We are all guilty. People probably do not know that I have lived in Guam for 3 months and visited Germany and Japan. If you were a stranger you would probably think I am a little old gray haired grandma but never would guess all the things I do. Thanks for the post and reminder to give people a chance.
Ann,
You have done some very significant things with your life–travel back when you were younger, your career in Social Services and now your volunteer work and the way you help so many people.
You have so many great stories behind what people may see as ‘little gray haired grandma.”
Becky, you and the family have certainly led an interesting life! Loved seeing those looks from the 80’s!
Since I am small and blonde, I think most people have the stereotypical first thought of “dumb blonde”. Some seem surprised that I am both knowledgeable and capable!
Kari,
Small, blonde . . . and smart! A great combination and I am glad you get to surprise people with it. 🙂
Wow, that was a trip down memory lane! And with a great message to take away. Great post as always, Beck!
Love, Deb
Deb,
Yeah, you lived that memory lane trip with me so I’m sure it was extra interesting for you to read the post!
Bravo!
Steve,
Thank you, kind sir.
Very thought provoking Becky. There certainly is more than meets the eye.
Now that I am in a wheelchair and use a communication device to communicate, it is interesting to me to see how people approach me versus some years back when I used to be a pediatric physical therapist who appeared like any other young professional.
I’ve heard a lot about how people with disabilities can be prejudged based on their wheelchair etc but surprisingly I haven’t felt that very much. While there certainly are times in a restaurant when the waitress looks at my husband to order for me etc, by and large I’ve been surprised by how many people approach me to say hi and are very friendly and kind.
Although I communicate in a pretty unique way, I answer very quickly and interact with high confidence to a person’s initial questions and quite often a nice conversation ensues.
However I also see the opposite with my son who is a big, handsome, able bodied 20 year old. People have no idea when they first see and approach him of his cognitive disabilities which impact how he will communicate back to their initial hello and questions. As a result he interacts differently than their initial look at him suggested. The person will often be polite but the conversation falters out and that heartfelt connection may not occur which hurts my mama heart.
Both of these situations are teaching me to look beyond appearances.
And wow, you have done so many cool things with your music!!! ?
Jenna,
You and your son are perfect examples of the post, being able to give perspective from two points of view.
I so admire your attitude of patience and forebearance when people are awkward or unthinkingly insensitive to you or Joe. It is a true testimony to your quality as a person.
And for some reason, I hadn’t realized you worked as a pediatric PT. What a rewarding line of work!
Good post! Great reminder. Nothing is as it appears, You have certainly lived a very full life so far Becky. And the best part is, I am guessing, that you have very little regret because you have lived true to yourself all these years.
As for myself, I actually think that what you see is pretty close to what you get. 95% of the time have Sarah by my side and that, in a nutshell, is what I’ve been doing for the last 20 years. Underneath, I would love to travel and do a great many more exciting things that most people would find quite mundane. So maybe, what one can’t see is what I wish I could do. That this is not all of who I would like to be. That I am frustrated, I do feel claustraphobic and limited. Kind of like a bird in a cage, I just can’t get out. I cannot live my own life because I must care for the one who depends on me. People see a happy, smiling, confident face but what lurks beneath is not so content. I am somebody else besides my daughter’s caretaker but I am caught in the net.
That’s what people would never guess about me when they met me.
Lesley,
Your reply stopped me in my tracks.
I appreciated your honesty and vulnerability and the door you opened to allow us to view the inner heart and struggles of a full time caregiver.
Yes, you ARE somebody else besides your daughter’s caretaker and I know that someday, in some way you will have the chance to put feet to your dreams.
I would have to say that when I was 18, I decided, with a friend, to enlist in the Air Force. We had our physicals, had done the entry paperwork and even had our job assignments….we were going to be fuel specialists and would be in charge of fueling up trucks, heavy equipment, convoys, etc. As the day for our delayed-entry swearing-in approached, we got really nervous because so many people had said ‘nice girls don’t go into the military.’ We were going to use the military education benefit and I so wanted to become a Physical Therapist. But it didn’t happen. We changed our minds.They scared us and they scared us right out of it. I guess in hindsight, it was a good choice because I never would have met my husband or had the children that we have. I love my life and can’t imagine anything different. When people look at me, I’m sure they see a semi-shy, almost 58 year old woman, not a flashy dresser, just comfortable, and who never went to college but has a great career and long time (33 years!) job. I agree, looks can be deceiving. 🙂
LeeAnne,
Isn’t it interesting to look back and think of all the “what ifs?” It sounds like you have made peace with the decisions of the past; I know you are enjoying a wonderful family, job, and life.
But I know it’s still interesting to look back at what might have been as a fuel specialist and wonder where that might have taken you.
You must have been quite the adventurer at heart to sign up for the military at the age of 18. Good for you for even contemplating such an adventerous step!