The Parting Of The Light
or
What’s She Have That I Don’t Have?
4/4/09

I stood on stage in a rock concert entitled “Burnin’ Up” that I had created, performing a song I had written and sung to great success over the years.  Behind me was a 12 piece horn band of great NYC musicians and a full set of tiered staging and theatrical lighting.  Out front was a full house of over a thousand people rockin’ along to the power of the music.  We were a success – great reviews in Stamford, NJ and then NYC, a strong and dedicated producer behind us, a great band, and the machinery to make a real run at rock n’ roll stardom.

The song was a duet.  Jenny Burton stood about 15 feet to my left in another spotlight.  We traded melodies and sang harmonies to each other’s melodies.  We had performed this song over a hundred times together and so I was at the top of my game – confident, early thirties, already a lead in Broadway’s phenomenal “Hair” and a national million selling record under my belt as a song writer (If You Let Me Make Love To You, The Why Can’t I Touch You).

Normally the follow spots are so bright, you can’t see your audience.  Oh you can feel them and hear them and catch glimpses of their masses in the changing splashes of light, but it’s not like you can just stand there and look into their faces.  But in an odd moment, for whatever reason, the lights cleared and even though the spotlight was still on me and I was playing and singing, I could suddenly see the faces of the first 30 rows of people in the theater.

Now remember, in this story, I was absolutely at my best.  This was a moment in the sun, all the gears working and all fires cookin’.  After all, the evening was called “Burnin’ Up”.  I had worked so hard to get to just this place.

So in this odd moment as the lights cleared and I was able to look into the eyes of my audience, just what did I behold?  I was completely taken by surprise.  The eyes of the entire audience were on Jenny.  I had the attention of no one.  It wasn’t her moment in the song, it wasn’t a lighting effect on her.  It was supposed to be a duet of equal proportion.

I remember wondering (while I went on singing and playing), “What’s she have that I don’t have?”  And so (while still singing and playing) I turned to look.

And there stood Jenny Burton in all her power and magnificence.  The energy poured off of her like an explosion, her commitment to the song and to the pure act of singing was an amazing demonstration of deep talent that made her in that moment a star.  Had they turned the spotlight off, she would have still lit up the stage and theater.  I too couldn’t take my eyes off her.  Her energy was so powerful, it was like rays of light poured forth from her body and shot out across the footlights.  I was to witness this moment thousands of times more over the ensuing years.  She was just a huge talent.  And I simply stood on stage like a little boy and watched her in wonder.

It was an inspired moment that I shall never forget.  It was so inspirational that it inspired me to completely change the course of my life, my career.  I was inspired to give up performing.  What I witnessed in that moment was something that I realized that I did not have.  I had no clue how to get it and I completely understood in that moment that I was not in my right place because she was so clearly in hers.  It was a seminal life moment, an absolute turning point for me.  Basically, in that moment, I gave up trying to be a performer.

I moved off the stage and to the back of the house where I have lived happily ever after.

Did I fail?  No.  In fact, I’ve always felt that in that moment of the parting of the light, God allowed me to look into myself and see the truth of who I am, where my talents lie, and why I am here.  With no regrets, I turned from one idea and moved on to the next.  I got it in one clear moment.  Performing wasn’t for me.  Watching Jenny was an inspired moment that changed my life for the better.  So, no, I didn’t fail.  I succeeded… in knowing myself and my talent.

I’ll always be grateful for that ‘parting of the light’.