Fame

Recently I have become fascinated with the Jonas Brothers.

Fascinated.

Notice the choice of words there. Not infatuated, not in love with, not a fan of.

But fascinated. Intrigued, really. Because they're at the top, pretty much. Set for life, almost as famous as it gets. Maybe not universally respected, but almost universally recognized.

How do they do it?

And I know that the real answer is Walt Disney is pulling most of the strings. But that's what gets me interested. Just which strings, and how many of them are they pulling?

There are some people who believe that these people are completely legitimate: they write all of their own songs, they write all of their lyrics by choice, and the image that they give isn't manipulated - it's just who they are.

On the opposite side of the spectrum, people such as my younger brother Andy, believe it all to be a total scam. Disney buys songs for the group, writes their lyrics to be clean, and set up their distinctive image so that nobody can say they're a bad influence.

Musicians? Or Frauds?

Now I'm pretty sure that neither of these two sides are completely right; I'm pretty certain the truth lies somewhere in the middle. I've listened to some of their songs. It's alright. Nothing special, but they're alright. They're no fantastic musicians, but I'm pretty sure they at least qualify. But at the same time, I can't help but wonder how much of it was written by them, or bought by Disney.

And then there's the whole image thing. It's a big deal because it's perfect. The image. It's too... goody two-shoes, especially when you expect musicians to be involved with parties and alcohol and drugs and whatnot. These guys wear 'purity rings', basically the same concept as a chastity belt. They have a minister, who, if I'm not mistaken, is also their father, come to all of their concerts and say a prayer beforehand. And after hearing about all of this and then listening to their lyrics... it's just hard to take them seriously.

Another facet of the possibility of them being a sham is that they are actually trapped more than we know. For all we know, Disney's got them on a restrictive, long-term contract that restrains both their musical and personal freedom. It's hard to believe that they don't sometimes, after reading about how pure their music and lifestyles are. Parents and preteens are lapping it up, throwing money at these guys.

I just want to meet these guys and have an honest conversation with them. Are they frauds with no musical integrity? Are they trapped artists? Are they self-righteous, goody-two shows pricks, or just abnormally good influences for musicians?

Who are these guys?

What makes them tick?

My Music

This is as close as I could get to uploading my music directly to my blog.

Go HERE and log in as

mr.pianodude@hotmail.com

password - alcatraz

Or feel free to sign up to the website yourself. Just thought this might make things easier. Anyway, here are four songs from my first album, Save For Rachel. Enjoy listening!

Switched

I used to have an urge to write. And it was a considerable urge, perhaps comparable to some of my fellow blogger's motivation. It's what drove me to write in this blog so much in the first place.

Things have changed though, unsurprisingly.

The real urge is now to play music, and it's still not very strong. But it is strong enough to have led me to produce an album in the course of a year or so.

I may have mentioned it, but I am now studying with Del Parkinson, the head of the music department at Boise State University. He's a great guy, but furthermore he is impressed with me, and is pushing me harder, and pushing me to practice more.

At any rate, most of the motivation that got me to write my book, or got me to write daily in this blog, is now gone. It's a pity too. I can force myself to write, and I'd like to think I can still write well, but I lack the motivation to do so on a regular basis and I feel as if I have nothing to say.

So that's why I'm writing less.

Cause I'm playing more.

I'm still trying to figure out how to upload music to this damn blog...

Sanctuary From Change

Sitting here at the computer these nights, I wonder if I'm in my own world. Everything upstairs and outside seems so distant, it's like I could be stuck alone in this one place forever.

It's not just there though. I get that feeling other places too. Sometimes in my room, or in the car. There's this strange feeling that maybe I won't be able to get out, and this'll be the last place I ever spend time again.

You may be thinking that this is strange, but not so if you think about it. There are people who lock themselves up in a house all the time. Recluses. Hermits. Their lives are confined to a single space. Things don't change for them.

I can almost understand why people choose this way of life. The world is a scary thing. Things and people change. And change is hard. Why not try to block out the change, and make your life a ritual?

I think we all do this to an extent - We keep something in our life that we can always count on to be the same, or something that we try to keep the same. We make habits, and items, as a sanctuary from change.

For example, I've talked about my bracelets before. This one on my right wrist has been on for years now, and the one on my left wrist was on for almost a year as well. I kept them on constantly.

But now one of them is gone.

I'm not going to explain how it happened, but the bracelet on my left wrist is gone. Maybe this shouldn't matter, but it does. Those bracelets were a part of me. They stayed with me through it all - the thick and the thin, the joy and the sorrow, all of my experiences from the past years. If you could see their history, you could see me change and grow.

These two things have become two of the most spiritual things in my life. I kissed them on occasion for good luck, and before major milestones in my life. Hell, I kissed them before I got confirmed. And one of them is gone. Emotionally, it's like all those stories are gone, and I miss all the sentiment of having both of them. Physically I can actually feel that it's gone. My body's gotten so used to having these things on, and now it almost seems to miss them.

Am I being silly? I can't tell. Should it hurt like this, when you lose a sanctuary?