Frank’s band, the Lost and the Lonely, has experienced a few ups and downs over the course of the last few weeks. It all began when they went to Denver to record their first demo. The guy who was supposed to let them into the studio and help them with the recording, didn’t show up. Word was he was in the hospital, which the boys didn’t know before they packed up their instruments and made the drive.
As I do often, I texted Frank part way through the morning and asked how it was going. He told me the news, and said they were trying to figure out what to do since they were up there.
I’m fuzzy on how the next part played out, but they were sitting on the steps of the building and were approached by a talent agent. I learned later that they spent a couple hours in his office and played some songs for him. And then the agent told them about an opportunity of a lifetime.
As I’m sure was true with the other boys in the band, Frank called me from Denver, to tell me the great news. Incredulous, I listened. Warning bells were going off inside my head. I bit my tongue several times, reminding myself to allow Frank to enjoy this experience, and not rain on his parade. After all, it was possible that I was wrong, and the band had just been discovered.
Several emails, lots of research, a parent meeting, and a couple weeks later, the woman in charge of the "opportunity of a lifetime" finally showed her hand. As much as the five sets of parents were looking forward to a Las Vegas vacation, where the opportunity was to take place, the cost for the band to enter what we finally determined was a talent showcase, was more than the boys (or the parents) were comfortable with.
I had sent an email out to a few friends in the entertainment industry asking if anyone had heard of this person. The answer came back only moments after the one and only phone call I had with her. Stay away. I had just come to the same conclusion.
The boys were disappointed, but without the parents being the ones to dash their dreams. They realized they were being scammed and fielded at least a couple more phone calls from the agent with an effective "no, thank you."
One boy's parents offered to host a BBQ and house concert for the parents who hadn’t yet heard the boys play. It was this past Saturday. And it was awesome. Before they started to play, and during their set, Doug took photos, which were later played for the group as a slideshow.
For me, it was the first time I heard them play plugged. The practices and concert I saw before were acoustic. It was also the first with a drum set. Noah, the drummer, was really good, as were the other boys.
The biggest surprise, and source of great pride for me was what a performer Frank has become. He sang, he played guitar, he danced around the performance area, jumped off equipment . . . he really got into it. He sounded and looked like a budding rock star.
The band played five or six songs, and then we took a break for dinner. After dinner Frank and a couple of the other guys played two acoustic songs. One was a song I recognized.
A few nights prior, I heard Frank playing in the room below mine. I texted him and told him whatever he was playing was beautiful. He responded with really? I answered, yes, really, really beautiful. A few moments later, I got a video text of him singing and playing a minute or two of the song. Tears. Of course.
When he played it at the BBQ, my sunglasses hid the tears that fell again. The melody is simply gorgeous and the lyrics . . . so moving. It is likely Frank knew I was crying, because he’s come to expect it. Music does that to me. Especially his music.
A few minutes ago I saw that Frank posted a couple of the photos Doug took. And I copied them . . .
During their performance I motioned one of Frank's closest friends over. "Can you believe it?" I asked him. "Look at him. He's amazing." The friend nodded his head in agreement, the same look of pride on his face as was on mine.
I looked over a Doug periodically during the performance and after. Most of the time he was taking photos. When the slideshow played, I saw the love he has for Frank captured in his images. There are so many really good shots of Frank, and also of the other boys. When he has time I’m sure he’ll retouch some and give them to the other parents.
As a lover of music, some might say fanatic, there is nothing sweeter than hearing the songs my son has written. I am so very proud of him.
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