When selling you cable in WV, the Time Warner rep's sales pitch is "You get over 200 channels including ESPN, ESPN 2 and ESPN NEWS!". In West Hollywood, the sale's pitch is, "you get over 200 channels including Logo!".
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Sunday, May 3, 2009
12
A couple of years ago, I posted a blog about my dad, Mike Simons, who passed away May 3rd, 1997 at the age of 49. I add or change a few things each year since and repost. Since I posted it originally I've gotten so many great messages and stories from you. Some of you commented as sympathetic readers and others responded with your own stories of loss. Either way, I post this blog again because this date is a big part of who I am and the music I write.
Thank you for reading and thank you for continuing to listen to my music.
s
---------------------------------
Twelve years ago today my whole life changed...
My father, Mike Simons, passed away unexpectedly at the age of 49 from complications after a bone marrow transplant. He had a blood condition called Aplastic Anemia but he was supposed to pull through. He had the best doctors at Johns Hopkins and a perfect match bone marrow donor, my aunt Eileen, his sister. In fact, the day he passed away he was technically cured but while his immune system was compromised from the transplant he contracted pneumonia.
I'm not sure losing someone ever gets easier, you just learn where to put it in your heart and mind so you can go on with your life each day. However, this year has been particularly tough for me because of my move to LA, my first solo release as an artist and my career as a songwriter starting to take shape a little bit. My dad was the one who encouraged me to major in music composition in college when I was in 9th grade setting me on this path. He also spent 9 months in LA trying to make it as an actor in his early 20's but after 2 extras jobs and no money, he returned back to West Virginia to get into local TV and radio. When I was 19, a year before he passed away, my dad took me on his NBC affiliate's meeting in LA for my first trip out west. NBC put us up in the Beverly Hills Hilton and we met TV stars, watched upcoming pilots for the fall season and got to bond. I never thought I'd ever live here, NYC seemed more likely, but now that I do I have a million questions for my father I'll never get to ask. Aside from my dad's amazing wit and sense of humor, his strongest trait was probably his ability to listen, give advice and make big deals seem less big.
My dad continues to be the biggest influence on my life and my music. I have so many great memories of my father and a lot of them revolve around music. In hindsight, I feel like my dad was training and preparing me for what I do now my entire childhood. He wasn't a professional musician. He was actually a weatherman, and a damn good one too. Not a metereologist, mind you. He didn't know much about the weather, but he prided himself on being able to talk off the cuff without saying 'uh...' and being the personality and face of the station. Although, he was born and raised in Philadelphia, a lot of people knew and loved Mike Simons in the state of West Virginia. I still get stopped and told stories I never knew about my dad or how he touched someone's life.
My dad would work 9-5 everyday making commercials and imaging for the TV station or then do a 530pm and a 6pm newscast. He'd come home for dinner with his stage makeup on and we'd have dinner and then hed go downstairs and take a nap somehow sleeping while blasting either La Boheme, his favorite opera, or Simon & Garfunkel Reunion Live in Central Park. Then hed wake up at 10:15pm and go back to the station for his 11pm newscast and be home again by midnight. On the weekends, he had appearances for the station or charities. He loved his work but somehow I don't remember him missing anything important of mine - performances, soccer games, pictures before school dances, etc.
Before he was a weatherman, he was a radio DJ and I still have a ton of his vinyl. He also acted in and directed community musical theatre and was the best in the area. In high school, he was a very good clarinetist and when it was my turn to be in the school band in 5th grade, I unknowingly signed up for a life of testosterone-fueled hazing and chose to play the clarinet just like my dad. I remember the night I first rented my plastic Bundy from Bandland and my "Best in Class Book One" vividly. My dad setup up two chairs and a music stand in the living room. First, he showed me the delicate way to put together a clarinet. ('You have to hold down this key up here so the bridge key doesnt get bent when you twist...'). After the assembly lesson, we went thru the first few notes in the book starting with 'open G' - me on my shiny plastic rental clarinet and my dad on his worn and dull wooden professional model clarinet. I showed up to school on the first day of band already ahead of my class. When I turned 15, I was first chair clarinet and my dad finally gave me his wooden clarinet - the Selmer 9-star with the wide barrel just like Benny Goodman, one of my dad's idols.
I remember in 6th grade telling my Dad about the teasing I was getting for having picked clarinet as my instrument. Kids would snicker "Isn't that a GIRL'S instrument?". So my Dad gave me a piece of advice. The next time anyone asked if clarinet was a "girl's instrument", since most famous clarinet players are male - Benny Goodman, Woody Herman, Artie Shaw (I know, I was a dorky kid) - I should reply, "If the clarinet's a 'GIRL's instrument' then name one famous GIRL clarinet player...". For the next few weeks, I boarded the afterschool bus armed with my pointed response. I couldn't wait to defend myself. The first kid to say something would be reduced to tears, not with fists, but with my crushing retort. In line for the bus there was one soccer kid, Todd, who had a spikey mullet and seemed to always wear shin guards even on non-game days. Todd looked at my plastic black clarinet case and asked THE question as if he were the first to ever pose it. I shot back quickly with "WELL... If clarinet's such a 'GIRL's instrument' then name one famous girl clarinet player..." and waited for him to run away crying. After thinking for a brief moment, Todd said, "Scott. I can't even name AAAA famous clarinet player," and (probably) high-fived some other soccer player and laughed his way onto the bus. Thanks, Dad for the advice, but most father's don't instill the lineage of big band clarinet players into their 6th grade sons... but I wouldn't have it any other way. I'm glad you did... and I still hate shin guards.
Another great memory of mine is being in elementary school riding in the passenger seat of my dads car and listening to him sing an impromptu harmony with the song on the radio. It was a motown tune but I can't remember which one and I asked him 'How do I know what notes to sing for harmony?' and he answered, 'Just sing a third above or below the melody and that usually works. You'll have to change a few notes here and there to fit the key.'. I didn't even know what a third was but I could hear what he meant and it made perfect sense. That piece of information was way more valuable and simple than anything my college professors (that I'm STILL paying for) taught me.
In 8th grade my dad saved my career. I was REALLY into Young MC and MC Hammer and yes, even Vanilla Ice. I was in the back seat on the way home from a vacation with my parents and my dad had recently re-purchased his two favorite albums on cassette - 'Revolver' and 'Sgt. Pepper's'. We listened and sang along a million times to both tapes that trip and when we got home he handed me the two cassettes and said 'Learn these.'. I did. I learned every song on my 47-key yamaha my parents just bought me. That started my obsession with the Beatles and I began to sift through my dads Beatles vinyl, cassettes, magazines, pictures, videos, etc. He told me stories of when he saw them twice - once in Philly and once in Atlantic City - while I watched the famous Shea Stadium concert on video being drowned out by shrill teenage screams. He told me about skipping school to buy the new Beatles record and he and his friends would sit and listen to it on repeat all day and night. And when the rest of the world thought that Beatles 'got weird', my dad thought they got even better.
When I was in high school, my dad let me write the 22 second WBOY news theme and even credited me at the end of every news cast. Any sample cassettes he received in the mail of national news and jingle packages he would hand off to me for me to listen and learn to what was out there so I could one day have the option of doing jingles. So while my friends were listening to 'In Utero' and 'Siamese Dream', I was probably in my room listening to 'Intense News Sequence 2'. Ultimately I chose pop songwriting as a career, but because of the experience he gave me I am able to pick up a few free lance gigs a year writing commercial music.
Even though I wrote a lot growing up, my dad never heard most of my pop songs. He died before the Argument formed and before I graduated with my composition degree. He did hear a few less-than-stellar cover gigs and even booked my first gig for me at age 15, new year's eve at his friend's restaurant in Clarksburg (see earlier blog: "My First Band"). He also helped me with some lyrics on songs I was starting to write for myself at 19. However because of him, not only was I prepared to make music my life but I chose to. My dad's passing away keeps me grounded. It reminds me why I do this through the ups and the downs with no promise, just the hope of success. My dad gave me so much knowledge and taught me how to be passionate about music and it'd be a shame to let that go to waste.
This blog is only a fraction of my memory of my dad. Somehow, I ended up with so much more than 20 years of memories, but these are the "music" ones. I could go on and on about his sense of humor and wit, his creativity, his passion for family, his love for film and tv but I'd fill the entire internet.
Losing my best friend, my idol, my father was the hardest thing I've ever been through in my life. Its so personal but also universal because everyone loses someone in their life and is left with a huge hole and only tiny memories to fill it. Thanks for reading a few of my tiny memories.
s
Here is the song, "Foot of the Stairs", I wrote about my dad that is on my EP: http://blip.fm/~5fncz
Thank you for reading and thank you for continuing to listen to my music.
s
---------------------------------
Twelve years ago today my whole life changed...
My father, Mike Simons, passed away unexpectedly at the age of 49 from complications after a bone marrow transplant. He had a blood condition called Aplastic Anemia but he was supposed to pull through. He had the best doctors at Johns Hopkins and a perfect match bone marrow donor, my aunt Eileen, his sister. In fact, the day he passed away he was technically cured but while his immune system was compromised from the transplant he contracted pneumonia.
I'm not sure losing someone ever gets easier, you just learn where to put it in your heart and mind so you can go on with your life each day. However, this year has been particularly tough for me because of my move to LA, my first solo release as an artist and my career as a songwriter starting to take shape a little bit. My dad was the one who encouraged me to major in music composition in college when I was in 9th grade setting me on this path. He also spent 9 months in LA trying to make it as an actor in his early 20's but after 2 extras jobs and no money, he returned back to West Virginia to get into local TV and radio. When I was 19, a year before he passed away, my dad took me on his NBC affiliate's meeting in LA for my first trip out west. NBC put us up in the Beverly Hills Hilton and we met TV stars, watched upcoming pilots for the fall season and got to bond. I never thought I'd ever live here, NYC seemed more likely, but now that I do I have a million questions for my father I'll never get to ask. Aside from my dad's amazing wit and sense of humor, his strongest trait was probably his ability to listen, give advice and make big deals seem less big.
My dad continues to be the biggest influence on my life and my music. I have so many great memories of my father and a lot of them revolve around music. In hindsight, I feel like my dad was training and preparing me for what I do now my entire childhood. He wasn't a professional musician. He was actually a weatherman, and a damn good one too. Not a metereologist, mind you. He didn't know much about the weather, but he prided himself on being able to talk off the cuff without saying 'uh...' and being the personality and face of the station. Although, he was born and raised in Philadelphia, a lot of people knew and loved Mike Simons in the state of West Virginia. I still get stopped and told stories I never knew about my dad or how he touched someone's life.
My dad would work 9-5 everyday making commercials and imaging for the TV station or then do a 530pm and a 6pm newscast. He'd come home for dinner with his stage makeup on and we'd have dinner and then hed go downstairs and take a nap somehow sleeping while blasting either La Boheme, his favorite opera, or Simon & Garfunkel Reunion Live in Central Park. Then hed wake up at 10:15pm and go back to the station for his 11pm newscast and be home again by midnight. On the weekends, he had appearances for the station or charities. He loved his work but somehow I don't remember him missing anything important of mine - performances, soccer games, pictures before school dances, etc.
Before he was a weatherman, he was a radio DJ and I still have a ton of his vinyl. He also acted in and directed community musical theatre and was the best in the area. In high school, he was a very good clarinetist and when it was my turn to be in the school band in 5th grade, I unknowingly signed up for a life of testosterone-fueled hazing and chose to play the clarinet just like my dad. I remember the night I first rented my plastic Bundy from Bandland and my "Best in Class Book One" vividly. My dad setup up two chairs and a music stand in the living room. First, he showed me the delicate way to put together a clarinet. ('You have to hold down this key up here so the bridge key doesnt get bent when you twist...'). After the assembly lesson, we went thru the first few notes in the book starting with 'open G' - me on my shiny plastic rental clarinet and my dad on his worn and dull wooden professional model clarinet. I showed up to school on the first day of band already ahead of my class. When I turned 15, I was first chair clarinet and my dad finally gave me his wooden clarinet - the Selmer 9-star with the wide barrel just like Benny Goodman, one of my dad's idols.
I remember in 6th grade telling my Dad about the teasing I was getting for having picked clarinet as my instrument. Kids would snicker "Isn't that a GIRL'S instrument?". So my Dad gave me a piece of advice. The next time anyone asked if clarinet was a "girl's instrument", since most famous clarinet players are male - Benny Goodman, Woody Herman, Artie Shaw (I know, I was a dorky kid) - I should reply, "If the clarinet's a 'GIRL's instrument' then name one famous GIRL clarinet player...". For the next few weeks, I boarded the afterschool bus armed with my pointed response. I couldn't wait to defend myself. The first kid to say something would be reduced to tears, not with fists, but with my crushing retort. In line for the bus there was one soccer kid, Todd, who had a spikey mullet and seemed to always wear shin guards even on non-game days. Todd looked at my plastic black clarinet case and asked THE question as if he were the first to ever pose it. I shot back quickly with "WELL... If clarinet's such a 'GIRL's instrument' then name one famous girl clarinet player..." and waited for him to run away crying. After thinking for a brief moment, Todd said, "Scott. I can't even name AAAA famous clarinet player," and (probably) high-fived some other soccer player and laughed his way onto the bus. Thanks, Dad for the advice, but most father's don't instill the lineage of big band clarinet players into their 6th grade sons... but I wouldn't have it any other way. I'm glad you did... and I still hate shin guards.
Another great memory of mine is being in elementary school riding in the passenger seat of my dads car and listening to him sing an impromptu harmony with the song on the radio. It was a motown tune but I can't remember which one and I asked him 'How do I know what notes to sing for harmony?' and he answered, 'Just sing a third above or below the melody and that usually works. You'll have to change a few notes here and there to fit the key.'. I didn't even know what a third was but I could hear what he meant and it made perfect sense. That piece of information was way more valuable and simple than anything my college professors (that I'm STILL paying for) taught me.
In 8th grade my dad saved my career. I was REALLY into Young MC and MC Hammer and yes, even Vanilla Ice. I was in the back seat on the way home from a vacation with my parents and my dad had recently re-purchased his two favorite albums on cassette - 'Revolver' and 'Sgt. Pepper's'. We listened and sang along a million times to both tapes that trip and when we got home he handed me the two cassettes and said 'Learn these.'. I did. I learned every song on my 47-key yamaha my parents just bought me. That started my obsession with the Beatles and I began to sift through my dads Beatles vinyl, cassettes, magazines, pictures, videos, etc. He told me stories of when he saw them twice - once in Philly and once in Atlantic City - while I watched the famous Shea Stadium concert on video being drowned out by shrill teenage screams. He told me about skipping school to buy the new Beatles record and he and his friends would sit and listen to it on repeat all day and night. And when the rest of the world thought that Beatles 'got weird', my dad thought they got even better.
When I was in high school, my dad let me write the 22 second WBOY news theme and even credited me at the end of every news cast. Any sample cassettes he received in the mail of national news and jingle packages he would hand off to me for me to listen and learn to what was out there so I could one day have the option of doing jingles. So while my friends were listening to 'In Utero' and 'Siamese Dream', I was probably in my room listening to 'Intense News Sequence 2'. Ultimately I chose pop songwriting as a career, but because of the experience he gave me I am able to pick up a few free lance gigs a year writing commercial music.
Even though I wrote a lot growing up, my dad never heard most of my pop songs. He died before the Argument formed and before I graduated with my composition degree. He did hear a few less-than-stellar cover gigs and even booked my first gig for me at age 15, new year's eve at his friend's restaurant in Clarksburg (see earlier blog: "My First Band"). He also helped me with some lyrics on songs I was starting to write for myself at 19. However because of him, not only was I prepared to make music my life but I chose to. My dad's passing away keeps me grounded. It reminds me why I do this through the ups and the downs with no promise, just the hope of success. My dad gave me so much knowledge and taught me how to be passionate about music and it'd be a shame to let that go to waste.
This blog is only a fraction of my memory of my dad. Somehow, I ended up with so much more than 20 years of memories, but these are the "music" ones. I could go on and on about his sense of humor and wit, his creativity, his passion for family, his love for film and tv but I'd fill the entire internet.
Losing my best friend, my idol, my father was the hardest thing I've ever been through in my life. Its so personal but also universal because everyone loses someone in their life and is left with a huge hole and only tiny memories to fill it. Thanks for reading a few of my tiny memories.
s
Here is the song, "Foot of the Stairs", I wrote about my dad that is on my EP: http://blip.fm/~5fncz
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