Sunday, March 4, 2012

La Longue Route Vers Paris

Death and life are in the power of the tongue, and those who love it will eat its fruit. - Proverbs 18:21

My high school required two years of foreign language study in order to graduate. For reasons that currently escape me, I elected to take French. It did not go well.

I did alright with the vocabulary: I could memorize and retain words fairly well and I was keen to spot the similarities between many English and French words for the same object ('music' & 'musique' as an obvious example). What killed me was the conjugation of verbs. For the life of me, I simply could not figure out when to use what word in relation to the proper verb and so forth and so on and on and on.... It was hopeless to my 15-year-old mind.

Granted, high school was a time of frustrated priorities for me: all I wanted to do was play the drums and yet for 8 hours a day I had to go apply myself to the study of things I cared not a whit about. So, my galling lack of retention of the French language might have been bolstered by my insistence on mental engagement with music at all possible times. Nevertheless....

The teacher who had the unfortunate duty of trying to instruct me in French was a woman by the name of Mme Knighten. She was a kind and gentle soul and as far as I could tell had the patience of a saint. Despite my lack of ability to really grasp what she was trying to teach me, she was able to make the classes fun and the interaction was most always uplifting. She was consistently positive and encouraging, even when I insisted on setting the stage for my own failure: I distinctly remember telling her before taking my second year final that I was ill-prepared for it, knew that I was ill-prepared for it, and that I didn't want her to take it personally if I totally bombed her class. She just smiled and told me to do my best in a way that was not all condescending or rote. Consequently, that conversation is one my most pleasant memories from high school. (Oh, and I passed the test. Just, just barely.)

Quite the view.

But, Mme Knighten was not just encouraging in the subject she getting paid to teach. She was an inspiring voice for me in my pursuit of music, as well. She was one of the only teachers I remember that acted as if she thought a life of music would be a great thing for me. She didn't consider the idea ridiculous or wonder aloud right in front of me about when I would stop with the nonsense and start giving consideration to the "real" world. She even went so far as to accommodate me when I asked her what the lyrics to Sting's La Belle Des Somme Regrets meant (a song written & sung in French): she had me bring the CD into class and we all went through it line by line, translating each of the lyrics along the way. Even that little nod to my passion for music was something that I shall remember all my days.

So, that brings us to today: more than a decade has passed, and I am now finally able to say that music has brought me to France. On March 2, Tyler Ward and his band played their very first show in Paris (as an opening act or otherwise), and the theme of the night for this drummer was that of a completed circle: inspiration from a teacher of French finally made its way back around to the people of France. The encouragement that was given to me as a young man barely dipping his toe into the world of music has stayed with me for all of the time that it has taken to realize this dream.

Debut à Paris.

Which leads me to...

The words we speak to one another form powerful realities: encouragement can fuel a fire for years & years to come while the degradation of forcing someone into a predetermined box defined by culture or how one is "supposed" to do things can keep a person down for just as long. I cannot tell you how many frustrated tears were shed or how many times I slammed my metaphorical head against the wall due to someone's insistence that I was throwing my life away by pursuing my dreams. When it comes right down to it, far too many people live in a world of passionless doldrum. They insist that the only proper way to live life is in the way that they themselves have done it: according to the rules, the prescribed formulas, and the societal equations that make up most people's definitions of the good life.

But there are the few: the few that dare to believe that maybe.... just maybe.... someone they encounter in their life might slip outside of the box and do things a bit differently. And, believing that, they lend their words to them as nutrition for their dreams. They speak life and love to another with no strings attached. I truly hope that each and every one of you dreamers out there have at least a few people you can think of who fan the flames of your life's passion.

So, Mme Knighten, this one's for you. Le batteur est finalement venu à Paris. And timeless Amsterdam. And idyllic Bruges. Thank you for your support and encouragement: it has meant the world and I shall never forget it. 

Uitverkocht (sold out) in Amsterdam.

And to everyone who's ever believed in this music thing that we've been going after (seemingly) forever: 

Thank you, thank you, a million times thank you. 

And for the Collector's Edition DVD types who like to know what goes on behind the scenes, I relate the following anecdote -

On the way to our hotel after the Paris performance, we were driving through the city along the Seine River. We took one little turn and happened across this....

 
It was completely unexpected and a bit mind-shattering.

We had planned on getting up early the next day in order to see Gustav's tower before we headed out to Amsterdam, but it seems God had other plans for us. Not only did we get to see the late-night, lit-up version of the Tower, but 1 AM struck while we were there and this happened....



Paris: if I didn't get it before, I get it now. Merci pour les surprises. It is truly the stuff dreams are made of.

2 comments:

  1. This is an amazing post. Really inspiring for whoever is facing the harshness of the society pressure for people to stick to the rules. Without dreams, I wouldn't have been able to go to UK and work there (as a French assistant) and to see you. This is a very nice thing to say about France and I believe this might have been incredible to see the Eiffel tower sparkling/twinkling/whatever the word ^^

    Anaïs, the Frenchie you saw in Manchester.

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  2. Beautiful thoughts, I love the proverbs :) Thank you for the amazing show in Stockholm tonight and for taking your picture together with me -You are awesome!

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