Finish What Ya Started… (Repost)
2/7/2023: Featuring new content…
My Little Guitar
Photo Credit: Anthony Woodard
My journey to becoming a “rockstar” began in earnest during the fall of 1982.
It was the beginning of my Fourth Grade year and my elementary school began offering guitar lessons. However, my first steps on the path to “stardom” were rather bumpy. First of all, much to my dismay, no electric guitars would be allowed. Instead, all lessons required the use of a student-size ACOUSTIC guitar. No exceptions. I thought, how boring is that? How can I be a rockstar without a “Les Paul”, a “Frankenstrat”, a “King V”, or even a “Tele”? On top of that, my weekly lessons were moved from after school to during recess, and on Tuesdays of all days!
Recess, especially Tuesday recess, was of utmost importance to nine-year-old boys like me. Why? Three words, “Monday Night Football”. In the early 1980s, Tuesday recess was the place to be. It allowed us to become Joe Montana, Joe Theisman, John Riggins, L.T., or Marcus Allen, if only for a little while. It was our opportunity to reenact and incorporate their exploits from the night before, in our own ways. Thirty minutes to settle scores and to create new legends for the day; our legends.
Photo from my Fourth Grade yearbook…
Nonetheless, there was no quitting now. Lessons were until the end of the semester and I had to finish what I started. About a month in, after learning (or in my case, not learning…) “Every Good Boy Does Fine”, how to properly hold the guitar, and fret a chord or two, it was announced that us students would be performing in the Christmas program later in the semester. The assignment; we all had to learn to play “Silent Night”. Christmas programs at Catholic schools were major events, with gymnasiums or Churches filled with a few hundred people. This was the big time. All eyes would be on me and the handful of other students holding six-strings. I really needed to pay attention, practice, and learn those chords!
It was around 11:40 a.m. and the bell rang on that cool late-November morning. As my friends were all “suiting up” to do battle on the playground gridiron, there I was, alone with a six-string in my hand, somberly walking to my assigned classroom. “Mr. Woodard, Mr. Woodard, earth to Mr. Woodard…”, said my teacher, around ten minutes later. You see, I wasn’t really paying attention, for I knew that in about twenty minutes it would be lunch time and I would have to hear about the exploits of my fellow generation of gridiron greats. Most of all, lessons were so d@#% boring. “C Major, G Major, A minor, blah, blah, blah...” This wasn’t MTV. I wanted to rock! I wanted to play like Eddie, Angus, or Randy. Truth be told, I couldn’t even fret a chord. It hurt my fingers, especially when trying to fret an F Major chord.
A couple of more weeks went by and alas, it was early December. The program was only a week away and as you can guess, I absolutely had no clue. It was obvious that I was not practicing and that I was not going to learn to play “Silent Night” in a few short days. Ironically, it really was going to be a silent night, at least for me. Most of all, I absolutely did not want to be standing like a house plant in front of a few hundred people. Life Lesson: “No Tony, you can’t just quit”, said my teacher. “You are going to go up there, even if you have to fake it.” Well, that escalated quickly... Understandably, I was in somewhat of a panic. This was going to end up being very, very embarrassing.
That week went by slowly, but strangely, also quickly.
It was again Tuesday evening, around 5:45 p.m. and our Christmas program would start in about an hour or so. A cold sweat broke out on my face and my stomach started to ache, as I got closer to the Church. “Hey Tony, what’s wrong?”, my friend asked, while we were assembling. “Ah, umm, pfft…, nothing’s wrong”, I awkwardly replied. As the minutes and songs went by, the nerves set in more and more. I tried to hide my trepidation by loudly singing with my fellow classmates in the choir, but it was to no avail. Suddenly, it was time to perform “Silent Night”. I reluctantly strapped my guitar on and walked towards the front of the audience, seemingly to my demise. It felt like I was “walking the plank”. “One, two, three, four… Silent Night, Holy Night…”, our sextet came alive with the sounds of creaks, pops, missed chords, and trembling voices. And, there I was, showcasing a new form of unplugged playing, mixed with elements of what would later be known as “air guitar”. I hid my then lack of phalangeal dexterity by belting out some truly memorable vocals, reminiscent of a small foghorn. Amazingly, no one seemed the wiser. In fact, at the end, there was a fair amount of applause and some laughs. Most importantly, I survived the night, or so I thought…
Wednesday, December 15, 1982, 11:40 a.m.
It was another recess and it was time to play some serious kickball. It was a fine day and the sun was shining through the clouds. However, as me and my fellow classmates took to the asphalt diamond, a fellow guitar student (herein identified only as “S.S.”) gleefully exposed my dark secret from the night before, and yes, I would be the laughing stock for the next ten minutes or so. Author’s Note: To S.S., Looking back, I apologize for the brutal “head shot” I inflicted upon you as you rounded first base in the second inning. While funny at the time, the imprint it left on your face probably still haunts you today.
To be continued…
Tony’s Takeaways
We can all agree that it is important to “finish what ya started” [Yes, that was a nod to my favorite band, Van Halen] and to live up to our commitments, especially in business. Trust goes hand-in-hand with reliability. Conversely, certain downside risks and negative outcomes can be viewed as a quantification of unreliability. Ultimately, as author David Koenig states in his book The Board Member’s Guide to Risk, “a loss of trust negatively impacts our value, as every goal we pursue, or need we have, becomes more expensive when trust is damaged.” In short, any damage to our reputation caused by being viewed as unreliable will last longer than ten minutes and will cost us more than a few laughs. While what we do is hard and requires keen focus, we also need to be willing to take a chance and grow, both personally and professionally; take smart risks and be willing to go on life’s stage...
Looking back, what I also didn’t realize then, was that whether you know your chords or not, the show must go on.
Give em’ a show…
Playing live in 2022…
Photo Credit: Josh Stolberg
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