Don’t Give Up

I moved to Nashville when I was 18.  Young, dumb, tons of teenage confidence.

Every year there’s a writers festival called Tin Pan South.  The big hit songwriters from all over the world come to Nashville and hang out for the week and get to perform their tunes themselves at the night time showcases…there’s also panels, Q&A’s and all that during the days.

Passes to get into the showcases can be pretty expensive.  I was 18 and I couldn’t afford expensive. I could barely afford cheap.

But there was one particular venue that me and a buddy knew how to sneak into. I could afford that.

After getting in I tried to blend in (I’m sure I did a horrible job) the best way I knew how…by talking to someone.  

Turned out the first lady I talked to wrote the song I Hope You Dance.  Pretty cool.
As we were talking, I glanced over her right shoulder as some bright colors in the crowd caught my eye.  

Neon pink, neon blue. And it was on someones face.

There’s only one guy I knew of who usually had a goatee like that.

Mark Hudson.  Among tons of other hits, I knew him from all the Aerosmith hits he’d co-written with Steven Tyler and Joe Perry.  This was big time.  I’m a big Aerosmith fan.

I pointed him out to the lady I was talking with.  She could tell I was nervous so she asked if I wanted her to introduce me.

Um, yes.  

I talked with Mark Hudson. He told me Aerosmith stories,  Ringo Starr stories and some writing stories.  A really really nice guy.  It was awesome, especially for a kid who just moved to Nashville.  

As we were parting ways he gave me his email address and told me to drop him a message.  

What?! Nobody like HIM gives out their email address like that. It was an AOL email. Remember AOL?

A couple days later I sent him the “nice to meet you” email. And he replied asking me what I was up to and what I wanted to do.

Really?! HE asked ME???

This was my chance.  I should tell Mark about the awesome rock songs I was writing and how I wanted to take over the world with rock music.  He would tell Steven Tyler, Steven would freak out. He’d call me, invite me on tour, invite me into the studio, invite me into his heart. Obviously.

So I wrote Mark an email back. A long email. An email straight from my 18 year old heart.  I wanted the moon and I had to be clear, not sparing any detail.  The more I explained, the more he would understand, and the closer I’d be to world dominance.

I hit send, and instantly started refreshing my inbox waiting for a reply.  

A day passed. No reply. Obviously he was still catching his breath from my stunning email.

Day two. Refresh, refresh, refresh.  Sweating.

All of a sudden there it was.  Mark’s reply.  Would there be an attachment of a plane ticket to come meet him in LA? Would there be a bank transfer code so he could send me a pile of cash?  Would there be an invite to a weekend getaway with him and Steven and Joe?

After pouring out my heart, soul, plans, goals, dreams to Mark Hudson….this was it.

I clicked to open.

Here was his response in it’s entirety.

“Don’t give up.

Peace,

Mark”

So I didn’t.

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I’m always interested in your perspective, whether affirming or dissenting. Continue the conversation anytime: gabethebassplayer@gmail.com