Barry's Story
It was in the late 70's, I was living in Los Angeles.
I found myself at a job on Hollywood Blvd. whose purpose was to sit at a phone all day long and call engineers from a list I was given. I was to tell them that I represented an aircraft business (like Lockheed who had engaged the firm to do that) and was setting up appointments for an engineering job that paid so much an hour. The more engineers' I could get to go to those appointments, the more money I'd make.
My superior, whose task was the same as mine and the boss of about 6 others doing the same job, continually beat us all. That's probably why he was our boss. One day I signed up 11 and tied him. His demeanor turned to distrust and scorn. Guess I threatened him, at least for that one day.
I became so discouraged with most of the engineers telling me "No", my subsequent low rate of success became obvious and I was fired at the end of the week, which seemed to have lasted about 147 years.
But the saving grace of the job was that on my lunch hour, I'd go across the street to a large antiquated building I was told was slated for demolition. It had a number of pianos in their many high ceiling rooms. I introduced myself to the person in charge explaining I was an aspiring singer/musician requesting that on my lunch hour, could I use one of their piano rooms to work out in.
I was told the pianos were in use most of the time on a first come first served basis, but if I found a room no one was in, I had the approval to use it.
I usually found one room empty that had the worst piano of them all, but I was grateful for the opportunity. For the brief time of those long ago lunch hours, I found solace playing and singing.
The best piano of the lot had a small stage in the room, usually occupied by a middle-aged male music writer. One of the days of that week, I got to that room before him, elated for the opportunity to play on what was an extraordinary grand piano. Mid-way, the music writer came in, most annoyed I was in 'his room' even though those weren't the rules. He criticized me for attempting to enter the area of singing which only the most serious and talented prevailed, and how could I possibly think I'd ever enter that hallowed ground? And that the true test of a singer's worth was singing with no musical accompaniment - acappella - just the singer singing, and did I have the guts to stand up on the stage in that room to show him I had that rare gift of talent that no way could I have.
I got up on the stage and sang a country song of haunting lonely love and when finished, he was noticeably changed. He reluctantly and grudgingly told me I had talent. What I then did next I'm not proud of. I emotionally told him how egotistical he was, that I wasn't the fool he thought me to be, and that I had no respect for a condescending person such as he, walking out.
I don't know why I think of that long ago event, but I'm happy to say I somehow persevered and in about two weeks, a CD of my gospel songs is about to come out.
In retrospect, had I to do it over again, after the guy told me I wasn't so bad, I should have told him, "Thank you".
And then walked out.
--Published in the July 30, 2008 BOONVILLE HERALD