Mark,

Just a few short years ago, I was real close to burnout. I was performing 7 to 9 jobs a week, well over 400 jobs a year, lots of doubles, even some triples, not sleeping well at all, I neglected my home, I neglected my wife, I rarely got to see my children and grandchild, and I wasn't taking care of myself, both physically and mentally. Every waking moment was dedicated to music.

Now, there are some folks that will say "Well, those nursing home, assisted living, senior center and retirement community jobs are just one-hour jobs. What's the big deal?" Well, those one-hour jobs require the same amount of effort as a three to four-hour job. The same preparation time goes into each and every job. Travel time to and from the job, set-up and tear-down time is the same, billing and collection procedure the same, dress code the same, etc... So, the only difference is a couple hour playing time is added, but that's the fun part of all the jobs. So, in reality, that one-hour job, when all things are considered, takes about 4 hours at the very least. And, when you have a couple a day, and sometimes just an hour or less between jobs, you really have to hustle.

A schedule like that wouldn't be too bad if I were 52 years old, but I'm not. Add a couple decades to that age category and the equipment begins to get heavier, and you begin to physically and mentally wear out.

Six years ago, on a Sunday morning, I got out of bed, fixed breakfast, walked down to the basement office, turned on the computer, printed out an invoice and began checking my email and some of the forums. I felt a sharp pain in my wrist, but ignored it thinking I must have slept in an awkward position, which could be causing the pain. A few minutes later, the pain began slowly creeping up my arm, and I felt a bit weak. I took my pulse, took a few deep breaths, and slowly walked upstairs. I then took four aspirin tablets and told my wife to drive me to the hospital emergency room right away. She wanted to call 911, but I told her just drive me there and I'll be much faster and safer.

I had an 85-percent blockage of my left anterior descending coronary artery. I was lucky in that from my medical background from many years ago, I knew exactly what was happening - I was having a heart attack. The next three days was spent in the hospital, a couple stents were placed in the blockage area, when I got home the phone was ringing off the hook and the phone message recorder had 30 messages on it. While there were a few get well soon messages, there were several wanting to know when I would be back to work full time again.

At that point, I looked in the mirror and realized there was an old man looking back at me. I also came to the stark realization that there were a lot of things in this old world that I wanted to do before I was unable to do them. I told my wife and kids that I was going to slow down a bit, cut back to just 3 to 4 jobs a week, pretty much eliminate doubles and absolutely no more triples. A schedule this light would almost be like being semi-retired.

The next step was to closely examine the bucket list and figure out which of those dreams I could fulfill, both physically and financially, before I kick the bucket. The bucket was pretty damned full, that's for sure. So, I combined a few things.

First order of business was to lighten the job load, which was a bit difficult, mainly because I rarely said no to anyone's request for my services. Therefore, I ended up cutting out all of the facilities on the west side of Baltimore, which eliminated a couple hundred jobs right off the top - or so I thought. As soon as word got out that I had cut the long-drive-time jobs, some of the facilities closer to home began calling and asking for performance dates. I reluctantly accepted some of them, but not all. This allowed me to open a slot during the dead of winter so I could do something I really wanted to do - travel to a warmer climate during late January and through February - the worst winter months here.

I loaded the mini-van with my music gear, packed some suitcases, closed up the house, and the last week in January, headed south. Damned it was a nice feeling to drive out of the land of cold and snow to the land of Spanish moss, palm trees, sugar-white sand and turquoise colored water. Prior to leaving I made arrangements to stop at various places along the way and visit with many of the good folks here at Synthzone and the PSR-Tutorial. I spent a half-day with Joe Waters, creator and founder of PSR-Tutorial, and his lovely wife Joan. Joan fixed a wonderful steak dinner. That night, I was in North Carolina and got to see and hear one of the PSR-Tutorial guys perform at a local nite club.

Also, while on this particular trip, I spent some time looking for a sailboat big enough to live on. Something that was ocean capable, and would be large enough to carry me, and my music gear. I drove a total of just over 5,000-miles. Ironically, I found the boat I wanted just 50 miles from home. I got to meet up with Eddie Shoemaker, Randy (Saxman), Diki, Don Mason, Hank Bowman, Bill (Semilive), and many, many others that frequent this and other forums. We had a lot of fun together, played music with some of them, but most of all, I finally had the opportunity to connect a real person with the forum names.

After finding the boat I wanted, I then went about the job of fulfilling the biggest item on the bucket list - cruising to the Florida Keys, Dry Tortugas and Bahama Islands aboard my own boat. Now, some folks, including my wife, think this was crazy and that the old man had finally lost his marbles. Whether or not that's the case, I made the trip. I did something that most people only dream of, but never fulfill their dream. I put the sails up on that boat last October 3rd, pointed the bow south, and had the adventure of a lifetime. There were days when the only boat on the horizon was mine, and the only company I had was schools of dolphin swimming a few feet from the boat as I sailed slowly toward the land of palm trees and azure waters. There were nights when I just sat on the deck in a quiet cove in the middle of nowhere and looked at millions of twinkling stars overhead in a sky clearer than anyone can imagine. There were nights when I was suddenly awakened by a strange, clicking sound, which turned out to be shrimp picking specks of algae from the boat's hull. Sure were tasty critters. I was able to anchor the boat near Sombrero Reef, where underwater visibility ranged to 40 feet at times, jump overboard and snorkel with a myriad of beautifully colored, tropical fish that ate food from my hand.

Best of all, I got to meet an enormous number of wonderful people, people from all walks of life, musicians and entertainers, engineers, truck drivers, nurses, physicians, architects, etc..., people that walked away from a job from which they burned out, moved aboard their sailboats, and never looked back. Some were relatively young, and had young children who either attended the local schools, or were being educated by their parents. I met older folks, some much older than myself, that loved the life they live aboard their boats and have been living on the water for decades. One particular individual, Captain Jack, sailed from Miami to Marathon, Florida for a long weekend aboard his 26 foot boat with his wife. Jack was an engineer with a major corporation. He said that after three days of being away from his drafting table he couldn't think of a single reason to go back. That was 30 years ago when he was 61 years old. I played music for his 91st birthday, and for payment I got a treasure map autographed by Jack - I refused to take any money for allowing me to perform that night.

I just spent the past hour writing this post, and Mark, I know that eventually, you will be back to playing music - it's in your soul. But, as I've said many times in the past, take some time to smell the roses. There's an incredible world out there, a world beyond the realm of music, and it's waiting for you to come and explore it's wonderment. My only regret is that it took a heart attack for me to get started on this incredible journey of life.

Good luck,

Gary