When you’re an expert at something, you ruin it for everyone
Reading the spines of the CDs in Mike’s bedroom, the thrill of anticipation I’d been feeling slid, instead, into confusion.
He and I had been dating for a couple of weeks. In London terms — certainly, in the mid-2000’s — that meant a lot more than it does these days. I often joke that when I lived in the UK, rather than dating, it was more like we had arranged matches — except, instead of the matches being made by your parents, they’re made by booze. You’d get drunk and then wake up in a relationship.
The getting drunk that Mike and I had done happened at a new bands live showcase. Like most of the people I dated when I worked in radio, he was in the music industry. An A&R Scout, it was his job first to go out to gigs every night looking for new bands to sign, and then to have opinions on the records being recorded for release. I was a radio DJ at a well-respected indie station. I liked him for his trifecta of being charming, funny and hot, but I can’t say I wasn’t also romanced by the idea of us being a junior-level, music industry power couple.
The first time I picked him up from his house before a gig, I was excited to look through his CD collection. Would we like the same bands? Would I learn from him about new bands I’d soon love? Would I find any guilty pleasures?? It was often my favourite part of any new relationship.
But as I flipped through the titles and artists, I was…
People assume this is a mistake in storytelling. But it’s an asset.
LET’S DO A FUN MOVIE QUIZ!!!!!
I know you know this!
Guess the movie based on my short story version:
The MOST important part of any story (it’s probably not what you think!) (5/5 in the story series)
I put the CD into the player and felt my stomach fizz with excitement. After months of stillness, finally, I was going to bring the room to life! I pressed play and looked up, expecting to see all the seniors bopping along. Instead: nothing.
No movement. One old lady eventually looked at me and furrowed her brow.
“This is The Beatles?” she asked.
“Yes!” I replied.
“Huh.”
She went back to her newspaper.
I was volunteering at the day centre for seniors with dementia, and I wanted to move them with music. But they had other ideas…
That’s one way to begin this story. Here’s another:
This is a story about the power of music, and surprising yourself – about the time I made a CD for the seniors that I work with, thought they didn’t like it, and then got shocked by an old lady, who danced the jitterbug with me like she was 16 again.
It all started when I first put the CD on. After months of stillness, finally, I was going to bring the room to life…
I ask people (during client calls or storytelling workshops), “Which is the most important part of any story?”
Here’s what they usually guess:
The narrative
The detail
The ending
The climax
In fact, the answer is…
