Now Playing: "From Sprint To A Marathon"

Well, here it is: 1998. Huh? It’s 2008? Oh my gosh, time flies. Isn’t “90’s Rock” modern music? How is it that we are almost at the second decade of the 21st century? Time flies when you have spent the last five years creating and raising two kids (3 and 5), designing and building a new house in a new state and moving there, and starting a brand new entrepreneurial career from scratch.

As I pause to reflect on this past year and this coming year — a tradition I really love to take part in, a time of year that makes me reflective and philosophical — I realize that, for me, this January is not a time to reflect on the the past year and the coming year, but rather a time to reflect on the last decade and the coming decade.

I have been sprinting for a decade. I suddenly realized that. Truly sprinting. Ten years ago, in 1998, I launched a new career as a high school music teacher. I had no experience teaching and no training either — just a love of music and a makeshift career as an independent recording artist, documentary soundtrack composer, and a few other odd musical jobs. Little did I know that teaching would be something that I loved so much it consumed all my creative energies. I didn’t write much music any more — I spent all my time, almost every waking hour, working on developing a totally unique and modern music curriculum, from classical music history to writing and recording songs in the studio with Pro Tools. As my wife said, my creative passion switched from creating music to creating teaching curriculum. (One day, when my kids are older, I will transform this curriculum into a different sort of music history book.)

Five years later, I found myself the music teacher, soccer coach and arts department head. I worked long hours, my choirs went to Disneyland and won awards, I spent even less time on anything else.

And then my beautiful baby Sidney was born, I realized that all had to change. I wanted to develop a career that gave me more time with my wife and kids, and that was more in tune with the life I wanted to lead with them. So I “retired” from teaching in 2003 with a vague idea to be a very present dad and husband and develop a career making music and stories for kids the ages of my kids.

This idea took the better part of the next five years to enact. It included the creation of the first (and as-yet-unreleased second) CD; the creation of the first book; the creation of the live show; the creation of an extensive website; the building of a business plan and team to help me accomplish it; the construction of a home with space for a music studio and walking distance to everything we need; a move to a new state; the raising of two action/adventure warrior/princess superhero daughters to the brilliant ages of 3 and 5; and the launching of the official Doctor Noize career — a career that, in retrospect, has been bolstered and enhanced and prepared by my five years in the trenches teaching high school music and my five years raising two adventerous young girls.

So as I look forward this year, I find myself in a position I have literally been working toward, sprinting toward, for ten years, with very little vacations or breaks from the constant pressure of making the next hurdle in the sprint by the necessary deadline. And I can’t believe how amazing it is, after all that work, to feel that I am no longer laying the groundwork — not working toward a “future career,” not building toward a “future home” in a “future community,” not holding a tiny baby in my arms in the middle of the night and thinking about what she might say when she begins to speak, not working toward my first kids’ CD or show or book or my first good review or my first fans or the website and marketing materials surrounding them. Now, finally, after ten years and at the age of 38, it is time for the sprint to end and the marathon to begin — physically, emotionally, philosophically.

And that is why, as tired as I am from the last decade (and those who know me know that I rarely feel tired), I am excited and proud and happy in a way that I haven’t felt in years. I am not deluding myself into thinking I have now made it and the work is done. As a robust business, Doctor Noize still has a long way to go. I am merely feeling the tremendous difference between laying the groundwork in all things personal and private — planting the seeds — and having the opportunity to now spend my days maintaining and growing the fruits of many labors of love coming together harmoniously — growing the garden, if you will.

Not many people ever get to a point where they suddenly realize their hard work has allowed them to look around and say: ‘This is why I worked so hard, this is where I want to be, this is what I want to do, and I have a shot at keeping it all going.’ Again, I am not saying I am home free — if you saw Doctor Noize’s income versus expense statements from last year, you would know there is still a lot of pressure on me this year on the business side of things — but I would be a fool not to feel grateful for the opportunity I now have to earn a living doing something I think is valuable, something I enjoy, something my kids and their friends love that I can share with them, something people my age who are parents can value, and doing it in a home and place we handpicked because of all it had to offer our family and our lives. So, whatever happens, and no matter how much success or failure Doctor Noize has in the future, I have at least gotten to a place of opportunity that feels like the culmination of a decade of living, planning, hard work and good intentions. I couldn’t ask for anything more.

Here’s to the next decade. Please join me in the marvelous marathon.