June 2000
There's this quote I know. I don't know the exact words to it and I don't know who said it; but I remember what it was about. It was something like "The people who made the most brief appearances in our lives, may have the biggest impact on us." or something like that. I really didn't understand the quote. How could a person who's been in your life for a couple of minutes have such a big impact on you? I didn't understand, until I met her.
March 1996
It's late at night, and here I am, walking on the sidewalks of Tulsa at...I'm checking my watch...12:04 am. My mom would freak if she found out I'm doing this almost every night; but I don't care. This is a time where I get to be alone and have privacy. Privacy. A word barely exercised in the Hanson family. I never get to be alone in my house. I guess it's easy to understand because I have 6 brothers and sisters. My friend Mason once told me "Your Mom shoots babies out like a Pez dispenser." Note to self: kick Mason's ass later.
All joking aside (lame and bad joking, i might add), I came out here for a reason tonight. I came out here to think about some things. To think about my life, and my future. My brothers and I just got rejected for the eleventh time today. You see, I'm in a band with my brothers called Hanson. I (15 years old) play the guitar, my 13 year old brother Taylor plays the keyboards, and my 10 year old brother Zac plays the drums. You can leave the wise-ass comments about our age at the door, thank you. We may be young, but we've been working hard all of our lives. We did countless performances at schools, malls, and anywhere where we could get a gig. We even made a couple of CDs. I think we've done pretty well; but other people don't seem to think so. We send our CD to record companies, and all we get in return is rejection. Though we are working really hard, we are still ignored.
I sit down at a bus stop. I look at the night sky. It's beautiful. The way the stars are twinkling, the way the moon is shining, it's beautiful. But the stars and the moon can't make me feel better. No matter how bright they shine, or how beautiful the look.
Music is my life. It's what I've always wanted to do.It's my dream, but I don't think that people want my dream to become reality. How long will I continue to struggle and be rejected before someone notices my work? I've been working so hard; and I'm starting to get tired. Maybe I should just give up and work at McDonald’s. I sigh and look at the ground with a sad and tired expression on my face.
"You know, if you frown any more, your mouth will fall off of your face." a voice said next to me. Startled out of my self-pity, I turn my head and see a girl sitting next to me. She looks Asian, brown skin and dark hair. Probably 17 or 18. She has dark brown, almost black hair that reaches to her waist, with eyes to match.
"Who are you?" I ask the girl.
"Oh, I'm just a girl who came out here to think. And, if you don't mind my asking, what are you doing out here at this time of the night?"
"Same as you."
"Sooo." she says. "You wanna talk about it?"
"Talk about what?" I say to this girl.
"The thing that's making your pretty face look so sad."
I look at her for a couple of seconds. Can I trust this girl? I've only known her for a minute. How can I just talk to a complete stranger about my problems? I look into her big brown eyes and something tells me I can trust her. Maybe it's the sincerity and concern I see in her eyes. "Yeah, okay. It beats paying $10,000 for therapy."
She laughs. "So spill it, blondie."
I smile at her, and she smiles back at me. I like this girl. She doesn't beat around the bush. "Well, I'm in this band, called Hanson. You ever heard of us?"
"Hanson. Hmmm...Oh! You're the one that I saw perform in the mall a couple of days ago. Great performance."
"Thanks. But other people don't think it's so great. My brothers and I have been working for so hard for so long. It's our dream to do this professionally. It's my life. But even when we work hard, we still are unnoticed. We've sent our CDs out to a lot of record companies, but nobody wants us. What am I doing wrong? I'm starting to doubt myself. Maybe I'm not as good as I thought. If this much people don't want us, maybe I'm not good at all. I should just give up being a musician. I...I just don't know what to do." I confess to this girl that I've only known for a couple of minutes.
"You know, I've always liked drawing." she says to me.
"What?" Drawing? What does that have to do with anything?
"I've been drawing ever since I was a toddler. My mother used to get so upset because I always drew on the walls with my crayons." she laughs, having this nostalgic look on her face. "I drew everyday. I still do. I can't stop doing it. It's like your music, it's my life." she says while putting a large book in my lap.
"What is it?"
"Look at it."
I open the book, and I’m amazed by what I see. Even though my only source of light is a street lamp a couple of feet away from me, I am still in awe of these beautiful sketches before me.
"This is my life." she says, pointing to her sketches of various things inside the book.
"Wow. This is awesome. You're a great artist."
"Thank you." she says while blushing a little. "Here. Look at this one." she says, turning to a page with a beautiful drawing of a beach. "This was my home. This is at a beach in Hawaii."
"It's beautiful." I say to her.
"Thanks. You know, I know what you're going through."
I look at her, curiosity grazing my face.
"I've entered art contests in junior high and right now in high school. I've always ended up second or third place, sometimes, I didn’t even make the cut at all. There were times where I thought that I wasn't good enough; but..." she pauses.
"But what?"
"Look at this." she says, pointing to a drawing of a beautiful woman. She looks like the girl, only older.
"She's my mother."
"How does your mother relate to what I'm going through?"
"She always said ‘It's always beautiful after the storm.’ And I believe her. You have to work hard, and wait until the storm is over, but I know your day will come when the storm is over and you can finally shine." I look at this girl for a moment. I don't know what to say to her. She made my future look a whole lot better. I think she may have possibly saved my dream, and maybe a career. Just as I was about to say something to her, she stands up.
"Well blondie, I gotta go. I don't want to worry my mother when she finds out I'm not home. I bet yours will be worried too if you don't go home soon." Just as she was about to walk away, I go up to her and give her a hug. She seems a little surprised at first, but she hugs me back. "Bye." I whisper to her as I let her go.
"Goodbye, my friend. Never forget what I said." she whispers to me, and then walks away.
I sit back down for a couple of seconds when I realize I forgot to say something to her. "Hey!" I yell out, but she is too far away to hear me. I sit back down on the bench, "Thanks." I say softly. After a couple of minutes, I get up from the bench. Then I walk towards the direction of my house, and towards, hopefully, a brighter future.
June 2000
So here I am. I'm doing my first concert for my first world tour here at home. Hanson's new album is at number one right now, and has been there for a month, showing no signs of moving. I'm now nine years into my career, and it's still going strong.
As I go onto the stage with my brothers, the crowd goes wild. "Heeeellllooooo Tulsa!!" I yell into my microphone. As the fans scream and cheer, I notice someone. Someone that I haven't seen for a long time. Someone who changed my life. There she is, after all these years. She's still as beautiful as the last time I saw her—at a bus stop at midnight. I smile at her, and she smiles back at me.
