What would you do if success was guaranteed?

Then again, what defines success?

I found the “title question” on Facebook. I thought it might be a reasonable question that I could find a reasonable answer for. Then, I thought about that question and wondered, "What actually defines success?" I can only guess that success can be defined by most, as how wealthy you are. I think that success can also be defined by, “Being able to fall asleep in peace each night”. For the sake of this article, I'll stick with the first assumption that in order to be successful, you would be able to do something you love, something you are good at doing and you would reap the rewards of financial independence.

Musician life

What would I do? Well, my entire life, I have been a musician - so, that's my answer.

Shall I elaborate? Assuming the defined parameters I previously listed above - I absolutely love being a musician. I love the guitar as much as I love breathing. I'm actually quite good at it too. How do I know this? I've played in many bands in my life. I've played with many incredible musicians. These musicians were the best I ever knew. They let me play with them, so I figure - I must have been good enough.

I remember a quote in the movie "The Color of Money", where the character, Fast Eddie Felson (Paul Newman) says to Vincent Lauria (Tom Cruise's character)…

"If you've got an area of excellence...you're the best at something, anything...then rich can be arranged. Rich can come fairly easy."

I always imagined as a younger version myself, that with enough hard work, practice and enough correct decisions, I could be a successful musician. I dreamed of the rock star lifestyle: Fast cars, fast women, big houses, yachts, exotic vacations, fancy restaurants, more money than I could ever spend.

That's what I would have defined as being successful as a musician - about 40 years ago. Why? Because that was the very definition of the rock star lifestyle. It was what I wanted. I didn't want to be married with kids in my twenties like everyone else I knew. I wanted to be married to the road, on an airplane, on a tour bus to the next gig, and being paid glorious amounts of money to play bass guitar in a rock and roll band. This was what I defined as success.

One day, I turned 18, and I had to figure out a way to make a living so I could move out of my parents house. I had no interest in going to college. I knew that I had to find a job that could pay me enough to live on. So, instead of chasing that music dream, I went to work at a job. I had to put the dream off for a few years.

Then, I turned 24 years old and moved to Florida. I desperately wanted and needed to find a new life, a new place to find out what I was truly made of. If I was lucky, maybe I might find others with the same dreams as me. Again, this would have to be put on hold for another few years.

In 1994, I met someone who had the same dream as me. His name is Mike. Mike was a master guitarist/teacher. Mike and I became friends and eventually, band mates.

In 1996, I changed my life and began teaching music. I purposely sacrificed the stability of a weekly paycheck, so I could chase the dream once more. I found myself surrounded by musicians who all had the dreams of rock star success. I was finally with my own people; and the dream seemed more possible than ever before.

The greatest rock band.

In 1999, Mike and I joined up with two other musicians and formed the greatest rock band I was ever in. I was finally living the rock star life...well, not really. At least, I felt that I was on the right track to maybe one day becoming an "almost" rock star. I had been in twenty some-odd different bands since my teenage years. If ever there was going to be a real chance at being successful in a rock band, this band was it.

We came close. In 2005, we won the Grammy Academy of Music showcase in Miami. We were supposed to meet with record labels at that showcase, but not one representative from any of the anticipated labels showed up.

We beat out well over two-hundred other artists and bands - but ultimately, nothing came of it. It was indeed our last shot as a band. It also turned out to be the last time our band would play together as a group. We had been on again, off again for six years. We recorded two albums, played numerous gigs, did everything we were supposed to do in order to give ourselves a fighting chance at success, and ultimately, it was all for nothing…or was it?

Redefining success.

You see, success can be defined in many ways. My success has been the endurance, the dozens of years and countless hours of practicing, the commitments to the belief in the band effort, the paid gigs, the unpaid gigs, the sleepless nights, the endless traveling to gigs and rehearsals, the dramas of being in shitty bands, the sacrifices of relationships and friendships, and of course the belief in myself and my dream. I was in it unconditionally from the start.

"It is better to have tried and failed than it is to have failed to try." 

I don't think that what I did with my life in chasing that dream was ever a failure. I didn't necessarily succeed in realizing the actual dream itself, but I did succeed in trying to find it. That dream was not guaranteed; and I was well aware of this going in.

There is no guarantee of success in a musician's life. You become a musician because it is the air you breathe. You have no choice. Without it, you die inside. Most people have no idea the passion, dedication, sacrifice and commitment it takes to be a working musician - much less, a successful one.

Maybe in another time and another place, I might have become that successful rock star. Maybe that's why some people believe in alternative universes. Maybe in one of those universes, I became successful in a world where music and art pays more money than what a lawyer or a doctor makes. Maybe in that world, artists, teachers and musicians are revered as the types of dream jobs that offer a means for a stable income.

Unfortunately, I don't live in that world. Yes, I could have just as easily busted my ass and killed myself by staying at a meaningless, tedious, mind-numbing job all these years - but I would not have been true to myself or my dreams of the success I wanted in my life as a musician.

Ah, but time has a way of changing our definitions of success.

So, now I write.

I thought about starting/writing blogs and getting paid for my writing when it became a popular online venture several years ago. I just wasn't serious about it. I was 100% into my work as a guitar teacher. I started many blogs, but only a few people ever read them.

In 2019, I started a personal blog about my life, sort of as a daily diary. I allowed everyone to read it because it was important to me for people to know what I was going through, to try to get my life back on track after my collapse. I needed an outlet to vent and share my feelings. I needed something to organize my thoughts. I guess, I was inadvertently looking for validation too.

It was great therapy for me, but by the middle of 2021, the novelty of what had happened to me had long since worn off, and very few were interested in my progress. So, I stopped writing.

One afternoon in May of 2022, I was watching a video on YouTube. It was an interview with a writer connected to music. When he was asked which platform he uses to write for his subscribers, he said "Substack". I'd never even heard of Substack before. I immediately looked into it and found out that “would-be” writers (like me), could get their work published and they could get paid. I jumped on it and started my first newsletter: "SoundHole".

Now, I have a new dream of success.

I want to be a successful writer. In many ways, I already am. I have nearly 100 subscribers. A few of them actually pay to read my words. Writing is something that I can see myself doing for the rest of my life. I love to write. I now imagine a day in the future where I can actually make a living sharing my words. When that day comes, I will have finally reached the success I outlined in my original definition at the beginning of this article.

Time changes all of us - we grow, and our dreams and definitions of success change with us. At 60 years of age, I have a lifetime of things to share including my dreams. My hope is the same hope I had as a teenage kid with my first guitar. If I put hard work and commitment into this, I may actually see that success.