I was going thru my blog archives
And found some on my drafts folder that never saw the light of day.

Whenever I am not happy with what I wrote
Or whenever I can’t find any sense in it,
I leave them there and wait until my head clears up a bit and continue on.

Most of the time my head never does,
so they stay there quite permanently

One particular post I was trying to write was about a year ago
around February, when I auditioned to join a church choir.

This is going to be long, so consider yourself warned.

Just to share a little history about my music influences,
I grew up playing music in church.
I have played music for worship since I was in freshman year in the Philippines.
I also played in Church the whole time I was in Canada
until I moved to the states.
My music was honed around gospel and folk.
I played in a lot of mass offerings.
Weddings, Funerals.
Even a lot of Church presentation plays.
I am pretty confident enough to say that I can carry out a decent tune
when I play in service for the church.

So when I heard that our local church was looking for new choir members,
including those who play instruments,
I thought I’d give it a shot and try out.

I go there, half an hour early.
With my guitar in hand, eager to join
with hopes of playing for service, (which I love) once again.

So the head of the choir called my name,
I come up and shook his hand introducing myself.
Quite a nice chap, seems like we’re the same age.
But he’s got that aura of someone who was classically trained to play music.
I was not.
The only training I had with music was just me,
my love for it, my feelings, determination and a lot of patience.

So we chatted a little bit.
Talked about my experience and the music I play.
I told him all.
I asked him about his influences and his music because I was curious,
He told me all.
I presumed we got along well since we spent a good half an hour talking about music.
His story.
My story.
I even told him about how playing in church to me,
is more of a payback of gratitude.
I have always been thankful I am able to express myself
through the instruments I know how to play.
He even told me his plans and what direction he wants the choir to go to.

As our conversation was ending, I was waiting for him to tell me
To take out my guitar, play a couple of tunes
And see where I would fit in his plans.

He didn’t

He simply said, and I quote,
“Well, I would love to have you in the choir.
Leave me your number or email and I will definitely get in touch with you.”

It has been almost a year, and I haven’t heard from him.
Though we sometimes see each other since we go to the same church
And I always have a habit of sitting close to the choir.

I don’t understand how I failed the audition
when I didn’t get to show what I can do.
I wasn’t given the chance to.
Maybe he already had someone else in mind to play for him,
but he just couldn’t tell me right at front.

Maybe from our conversation alone, he realized I wasn’t good enough.
I just didn’t like the fact that he said what he said and gave me an empty promise.
That was just cruel.

As of writing this,
I remember an audition I did when I moved to Canada.
It was for a band who was looking for a guitarist, to play in local clubs.

And as eager as I was, I showed up, with guitar on hand, ready to play.
I didn’t have a car then, so I took the bus and I remember missing my stop and I got lost.
But I made it in time.

I remember meeting the band and they were all very cool and nice.
Their lead front was a girl who was awesome.
Pretty cute too.

The audition went well, I thought.
They made me play and jam with them to the tunes of Billy Joel,
Some Police.
A couple of Bon Jovi songs
and a bit of Green Day.

So after the session,
Their manager asked me to step in his office for a little chat.
He told me how much a band member earns a night and the vicinity where they usually play.
He even told me some of the people he knew from the Philippines,
when I told him I just came from there.

Then, apparently he had to ask my means of transportation
on how to get to and from the gigs.
I didn’t have a car then so I told him I have to take the bus.

And that was the downfall of that night.
I was accepted to be one of them
but still not good enough to join them.
I wasn’t aware that having your own vehicle was a per-requisite
to become a band member.

I failed the audition because of something I have no control over.

It’s funny how sometimes you think you are good enough for something,
yet you end up with your face flat on the ground.
And life has a nasty habit of kicking you while you’re down there.

You would think you’ll get used to this crap,
but you really can’t.
Something will always come up and will drag you right back down.

Maybe someday, in our path,
Someone or something will just tell you honestly,
“Hey man!
You’re alright.
You’re good enough.
Come on in.
The water is fine”