By Jim Hagarty
I love music. I sing, play guitar and write songs.
But I have never been comfortable being called a musician. Singer-songwriter, I don’t mind.
But a musician, to me, is someone what dedicates his life to making music and I haven’t done that.
I am fine with acknowledging I have musical talent. It’s nice to hear the applause when I play. But sometimes my guitar stays locked up in its case for a whole week without my going near it.
Musicians I have known and loved would have to be in a coma and in grave condition for them to ignore their instrument for a week. I know a guy who plays his guitar for hours every day.
But even he has other interests, other talents. Music is his living, not always his life.
And this is where I left the path. Making music for a living is not an easy road to go down. I tried it for awhile, long enough to know I don’t have what it takes to make it in that field.
But I have other interests. News, politics, writing. Those interests eventually propelled me into journalism, a life and lifestyle I was suited for. I had a good career.
Sometimes our talent can be our enemy. Because we are good at something, we think we need to pursue it. People urge us on, thinking they are helping.
But just as water seeks its own level, the human spirit finds its way. Through Happenstance and Fate, a path opens up.
Still, there is the nagging doubt. Could I have made it in music?
The answer, to me, is clear. I couldn’t have made it.
My heart wasn’t in it.
