Open Letter To A Young Star

You didn't ask for my advice. I know that. If there's anything good about unsolicited advice, it is that that it's easy to ignore, just like all the other.

You didn't choose rock'n'roll, either. It found you. That's the only way that counts. Once it found me, with the help of a devoted, single mom, I had my lodestar. You probably know what I mean. Over a lifetime, she would occasionally feign her intolerance for my obsessive self indulgence. I always knew that she ached every time that I turned my back on rock'n'roll. Oh, she could smile and hug me and tell me how proud she was when I cut my hair and put on a suit. She didn't have to fake it when I would get back to where I belonged.

It's not about the money. Hey, if they sign you to a major for millions, let's celebrate! On the other hand, I'm pretty sure that all of those "this close" stories build character. (Stop me if this becomes too hokey).

Here's the best part. You believe in magic or you wouldn't have been chosen. Heartache and heartbreak come with the package. They come with that other life, too. They may not call this stuff rock'n'roll for much longer. That's alright. It was kinda' a dumb term to begin with. You're already on your way to the most joyous adventure that there is.

Here's the advice part:

You're one of the ones who burn, burn, burn. Always keep in mind that the burning is in your mind. Chuck Berry burned and Bruce Springsteen burns. Stephen Hawking did, too.

You're good. Really good. Folks tell you and they will keep telling you. Elvis was good, too. Elvis was always nice.

Scales can be taught and scales can be learned but no matter how many pictures of Otis Redding that you pull up online or how much time you spend in front of a mirror, you'll have to learn about soul from having your heart broken. I can't say that it's a good deal but, hey, that's the price.

Use all of your gifts to help change the world. If you get rich, use your money, too.

It's all about the love so you're off to a fine start. Practicing those scales didn't hurt. Make it rhyme when you can and pay attention. Don't take a minute of it for granted. I promise you all of the joy that you can handle.

Love,

Ronny