BREAKFAST WITH RANDALL
Almost a year ago I bumped into Randall Goodgame at a smokey lunchtime dive frequented by construction workers and elderly farmers and their wives. We were both there with our families, eating fried meats and cheesy veggies to the sounds of old school country twang coming from small speakers in a corner.
We exchanged e-mail addresses and a little small talk. We said "we should get together sometime" but I knew we never would - people in the music business just say that the way customer service agents say "let me put you on hold for just a minute." Never means what it should.
The next week I got an e-mail from Randall asking me when I'd like to go to breakfast. Since then we've tried to meet a dozen times and, always because of me, it never happened.
This morning it did.
We tried to meet - isn't this romantic in a purely heterosexual way? - where we first met (ahhhh). Figured fried meats and cheesy anything would make for a great breakfast. But it was closed. So we hung down the street at an equally unhealthy dive where a young waitress chased and swatted flies loudly throughout our entire breakfast and an English as a second language class shouted vowel sounds in unison from the back. A! E! I! O! Eeeewwwww!
In spite of the distractions we had great conversation. We have more in common than I'd thought. Besides both being musicians, Randall is now on staff at a church as a "part time" teaching pastor (not sure that's the title he used though). I've been "part time" at a church before. We've toured with the same folks - Ginny Owens, Jars of Clay - and swapped road stories. He has a wife and small kids. Me too. We worship Patty Griffin. We have the same thoughts about what music made by Christians can, and probably shouldn't, be. We've grown a lot in the last year in some of the same areas. We both blog. There was a lot to talk about, a lot of shared experience.
He caught me up on his work right now. He's writing for a new Caedmon's Call record and about to release a new disc, made up of songs he and Andrew Peterson wrote for their kids...kids they didn't have together but with women they married...each married one woman and then had kids...and then wrote songs for them...the kids, not the women.
The thing that struck me most about Randall was his listening. He mmm-hmmms a lot and nods and says things like "exactly" every now and then. There's not a trace of ADD in this man. He's focussed and right here right now the whole time. Made our first meeting easier than first meetings usually are for awkward me.
He gave me a history lesson on the Square Pegs (much different from how I thought it came to be). He gave me an invite to write sometime, maybe even take a tour of Osenga's studio/house if it works out. He gave me a book written by a nun in the 1600s - the title I can't recall right now but I'll definitely read. And he gave me two CDs of his. I gave him jack squat. So he probably won't call and ask me out again.
My stomach hurts now. Bacon and eggs and french toast are not my friends.
THanks for breakfast anyway, Randall. Glad we persisted. See you again in another nine months.
We exchanged e-mail addresses and a little small talk. We said "we should get together sometime" but I knew we never would - people in the music business just say that the way customer service agents say "let me put you on hold for just a minute." Never means what it should.
The next week I got an e-mail from Randall asking me when I'd like to go to breakfast. Since then we've tried to meet a dozen times and, always because of me, it never happened.
This morning it did.
We tried to meet - isn't this romantic in a purely heterosexual way? - where we first met (ahhhh). Figured fried meats and cheesy anything would make for a great breakfast. But it was closed. So we hung down the street at an equally unhealthy dive where a young waitress chased and swatted flies loudly throughout our entire breakfast and an English as a second language class shouted vowel sounds in unison from the back. A! E! I! O! Eeeewwwww!
In spite of the distractions we had great conversation. We have more in common than I'd thought. Besides both being musicians, Randall is now on staff at a church as a "part time" teaching pastor (not sure that's the title he used though). I've been "part time" at a church before. We've toured with the same folks - Ginny Owens, Jars of Clay - and swapped road stories. He has a wife and small kids. Me too. We worship Patty Griffin. We have the same thoughts about what music made by Christians can, and probably shouldn't, be. We've grown a lot in the last year in some of the same areas. We both blog. There was a lot to talk about, a lot of shared experience.
He caught me up on his work right now. He's writing for a new Caedmon's Call record and about to release a new disc, made up of songs he and Andrew Peterson wrote for their kids...kids they didn't have together but with women they married...each married one woman and then had kids...and then wrote songs for them...the kids, not the women.
The thing that struck me most about Randall was his listening. He mmm-hmmms a lot and nods and says things like "exactly" every now and then. There's not a trace of ADD in this man. He's focussed and right here right now the whole time. Made our first meeting easier than first meetings usually are for awkward me.
He gave me a history lesson on the Square Pegs (much different from how I thought it came to be). He gave me an invite to write sometime, maybe even take a tour of Osenga's studio/house if it works out. He gave me a book written by a nun in the 1600s - the title I can't recall right now but I'll definitely read. And he gave me two CDs of his. I gave him jack squat. So he probably won't call and ask me out again.
My stomach hurts now. Bacon and eggs and french toast are not my friends.
THanks for breakfast anyway, Randall. Glad we persisted. See you again in another nine months.
posted by Shaun Groves @ 10/17/2006
14 comments
14 Comments:
Honestly Shaun it's not the real food that's making you sick. It's that fake soy stuff you "have" to eat. Turn to ground turkey, at least you'd be eatting real meat.
I just don't RED meat, MPP. Turkey and chicken and anything else with wings is prey. Things that oink are not.
PORK is the other white meat!!
shaun!! Tell your "driver" on Thursday to take you to the shop........il be working!!
MPP, Yea yea, pork IS supposedly white meat but bacon? Bacon??? Not so much. Doesn't feel like it.
How'd the discussion from this post end up centering on meat products??
SS, see you in Ireland.
Shaun
One of Cracker Barrel's greatest virtues is it's Turkey Sausage.
And it's sweet tea.
Shaun - This entire scenario you describe is so Nashville. I absolutely love it here, but the whole music biz networking thing, and the who-knows-who and who-worked-with-who things, almost seem comical to me at times.
Of course, I don't make my living in the music biz, and I do realize that it's literally a matter of survival for many of the people here. You have to network. You have to know people. You may not be able to get into the front door to talk to the people who can hook you up, but if your co-worker's brother's friend knows the right people, then maybe he can hook you up. It seems like the dominant cultural paradigm here. If you strike up a random conversation with a stranger here, the odds are pretty good that you could walk away with a copy of someone's CD or demo.
I will say though (and maybe you can confirm or deny this with your experience) that I've found an overwhelming majority of these music biz people to be just as nice, decent, and approachable as can be. But then again, I've mostly met them in favorable situations, light social events, or whatever. It might be different if there's really something at stake, or when you have to deal with pushy, self-centered diva-wannabe types a lot.
MPP - Which Cracker Barrel are you talking about with the not-sweet-enough tea? I've never had a problem with the sweetness of the Cracker Barrel sweet tea. Nashville, Franklin, Lebanon, Murfreesboro, Knoxville -- doesn't matter, always seems to be the same to me. When I visited California a few weeks ago, I forgot that they don't have sweet tea out there. Went to a Mexican restaurant and ordered tea with my meal, and almost spit it out when I took a drink. Yuk. And adding packets of sugar didn't seem to help much. It's just not the same as Southern sweet tea.
Well then stay away from the Cracker Barrel sweet tea in Georgia. The stuff in Macon and McDonaugh I have to add sugar to it. blug. Now Zaxbys and Big Chic has some good sweet tea.
Shawn, I'd love to know the title of that book. I had a professor recommend a book by a nun who was a Christian mystic, and then I forgot what it was. I'm just wondering if the book you got was the same one.
(Sorry. I spelled your name wrong.)
Ann, I can help you out with that one. I just got this book fron Randall last week. It is Experiencing the Depths of Jesus Christ, by Jeanne Guyon. It was written around 1685.
Yep, thats the one. Just started it. Stephen, have you read any yet? What do you think?
Randall and Amy Goodgame are two of my favorite people! I lived in Nashville for a year and went to church with the Goodgames. They are two of the only people who still make time for me when I make the occasional visit to TN. They are some of the most honest, sincere, loving people I've met, and I'm jealous that you got to have breakfast with Randall! I miss that family!
To bring this discussion somewhere entirely different - music for children. You mention these other folks who wrote music for kids. I've seen your pictures of playing for kids in the neighborhood and read your stories about talking to (really talking to) your own kids. Have you considered a kids album or even a song or two? I think your warmth and wit could really shine on a kids track. Just my 2 cents.
Post a Comment
<< Home