My anticipated gap year
My morning stream of consciousness, Meshell Ndegeocello, and a possible book
I had an epiphany this morning. I need to plan a gap year within the next five years. I can’t quite retire, and the words leave of absence imply a person is going to leave something behind. In my case it’s a desire to make time for something different.
A few hours ago (as I write this second paragraph), a seed appeared for a project that will require the focus and time I don’t have while teaching. Writing about it here makes me accountable, so I suppose this post plants the seed. I expect this project will evolve into something completely different than envisioned, but that’s the power of creating time to pursue an idea and see where it leads. Fortunately, a teaching schedule allows for time off in the summer, so I can play with the idea for awhile first.
The last time I took a gap year, in 2013, I ended up as a public school teacher. I took time off with no particular plan, but it was intentional nonetheless. I felt I needed a mission. Something that would inspire me and disrupt my tech career. Something that would contribute to the community and create more person-to-person relationships than writing software. I would need space and time from my everyday obligations in order to reach a state of mind that would speak more clearly and authentically. (There is so much privilege in being able to do this and I don’t take it lightly.)
I’ve had slower, more evolutionary, changes in life. In 1994, I started a band with friends as a bass player and switched within a few years to drumming. In 2000, my bandmates and I took professional leaves and traveled across the country playing gigs. This inspired a move to Portland, and soon after, Hood River. The disruption was a change of place, but ultimately I returned to high tech. However, living in a small town instead of the city or suburbs has been important in setting the stage for future changes.
So what’s this project idea? It has unfolded in this way.
For many, many years I've had this rock and roll fantasy dinner party in mind. For me, it's all about my most enduring heroes. So the attendees tend to be close to my age because they've inspired me since I was in my teens or twenties. At first it was all women, but not by design. I simply gravitate toward the stories of female musicians and am inspired by them.
Later, I added Martina Navratilova to my dinner party list, even though she is a sports figure. Her story is inspirational, and she was a personal hero before any of the original dinner party invitees were on my radar. Then I decided Tom Petty would be interesting (when he was alive) and would likely feel comfortable in a room full of women. Then I considered whether these people would all get along. Some of the guests (Chrissie Hynde and Annie Lennox) are known to be friends. But Chrissie wouldn't sit at a table if meat were served, and she's known to get either rowdy or antisocial depending on the situation. Also, I'm not sure of the dietary restrictions of the others.
Although the dinner party started as a fantasy, I can't seem to escape reality. I realized that such a dinner party wouldn’t be viable, so it’s no longer interesting for me to imagine it. Perhaps I should have fantasy dinner dates instead, and meet each individual for a separate dinner. The thought of having dinner with Chrissie Hynde is actually quite scary. What in the hell would sustain a conversation between us?
Then I realized most of the women were white. I thought about my rock heroes who are women of color. And I mean rock heroes vs. being separated into genres such as R&B, Soul, or Motown. People like Joan Armatrading, Tracy Chapman, Meshell Ndegeocello. Why hadn't I considered them for the dinner party? And why such a limited selection of women of color when I was younger?
While pondering all of this as I woke up this morning, I wondered what Meshell is up to these days. I dabbled in bass guitar for years, but when Meshell appeared with John Mellencamp on Wild Nights in 1994, I realized I needed to play bass in a band. Urgently. So I think of her as my rock and roll hero, even if her catalog is classified differently. Her 2018 album was nominated for a Grammy in the category of Urban Contemporary. Call it what you want. This is my rock and roll dinner party, or dinner series, and I can invite who I want.
What is with my semi-obsession (semi?) with the stories of my contemporary (age-wise) musicians? Rather than invite these women to dinner, what if I wrote about them? What if I were able to contact them and explore a common theme that is beyond what a person could find in the press or in their published biographies and auto-biographies? Why am I so captivated by their stories? What if I asked each of them a question that blew their minds. Something that no one has asked before. Something that would lead to a part of their narrative that they had never considered.
So that’s my plan. It will take a few years to ponder. I hope no one on the list dies before I get started.
I’ve already written about how I wormed my way into meeting Chrissie Hynde in the 80’s. More recently, I contacted and then hosted Jill Sobule at a party. My older sister once interviewed B.F. Skinner while writing a psychology paper in college. She found his number, called him, and he picked up the phone. (If she and I can make time to talk about the details, I’ll write about that story.)
What I’m saying is that I will find a way to get these stories. I have an idea of where to start.
In the meantime, enjoy this beautiful video of Meshell performing Waterfalls. It’s pretty powerful.
I hope to tell you in a few years that I’m taking a year to find and tell some stories about these women, or something else they have lead me to.