I’ll begin again back in the days of Mars Hill College. In January 1978, I was 19 years old and a flute major. Recently on Facebook I became friends with my high school band director, Bill Stell. He gave me the opportunity to play flute when the band program began at Madison High School when I was in the 10th grade. I wanted to play drums, but Mr. Stell just said no (as I remember it). He wanted me to play tuba (actually sousaphone, I guess) because I have thick lips. I remember telling him that I would but that I would like to buy a flute through the music program Dunham’s Music offered. So, I got my flute and learned it at home while listening to Jethro Tull. Over the next few weeks, the sousaphones that were on order for the new program didn’t come and didn’t come. Mr. Stell finally said that he was tired of seeing me sit around during band and do nothing, adding that I should bring in my flute just to have something to do instead of being a “limp dishrag somebody threw across a chair.” I brought the flute in, and that was that — I was a flutist-in-the-making.

Captain’s Log: Stardate 011.778 [Tuesday, January 17, 1978]

Today: No different from the rest. I did go to the music building and practice for an hour-and-a-half. Then I talked to A——— for a while; she’s really nice. Tomorrow I’ll probably practice two hours . . . .

A——— was the pianist — also a freshman — who accompanied my flute pieces that weren’t written for solo flute.

Captain’s Log: Stardate 011.878 [Wednesday, January 18, 1978]

I’m so bored. Watch TV and lay around, that’s no fun. Tom came up tonight which helped out the day . . . .

Tom DuVall was a high school friend. We went through periods of playing music together, which was always fun. I remember a time when we sat at his house and for some reason we were trying to whistle in harmony. We couldn’t do it. Not because we couldn’t do it, but because as soon as we got it right we’d break out into smiles. You can’t whistle when you’re smiling! We once wrote a song together: “Don’t Keep Running Away.” And the opening story in my manuscript collection of short fiction is based on an experience Tom had one winter’s night when he was coming from his house in Marshall to mine in Walnut.

Captain’s Log: Stardate 011.978 [Thursday, January 19, 1978]

Today was fairly decent. This morning we had some of the most beautiful snow, there were flakes as big as a fifty-cent piece. Other than that the day was the usual. Kenny and me went to see “The Late Great Planet Earth.” It was good and was pretty revealing about the future of our world here. Mike & Bobbie recommended we read the book to really get down to the meaning. I’ve also got another book called “Before the Last Battle” which I feel inspired to read now. Tomorrow’s Friday and I can’t wait to get done for the weekend . . . .

I’m guessing that I was referring to Kenny Ray, a friend I went to school with from Walnut’s short summer kindergarten through high school graduation. I thought he’d gone to UNC-Chapel Hill, but maybe he was with me at Mars Hill. Or maybe UNC hadn’t started its spring semester yet. Funny how the memory completely lets go of some things and not others.

Captain’s Log: Stardate 012.078 [Friday, January 20, 1978]

It’s finally Friday and I’m goin’ home. I’m looking forward to a pretty easy weekend . . . .

Looking back, it doesn’t seem like the weeks that January were particularly difficult. How much difference could the weekend make?

Captain’s Log: Compiled Stardates 012.178-012.278 [Saturday-Sunday, January 21-22, 1978]

Well I had a real good weekend. Snow kept the roads pretty bad so I didn’t get to go much of any place so I just hung around the house and practiced quite a bit.

My biggest event this weekend was getting a letter from Kelly Brady. She wants me to come and spend the weekend with her sometime. I’m really looking forward to that. She’s such a nice girl in many more ways than uno!

I’ve got this strange urge to work on A———, my accompanist for last jury. You might call it more of a hunch I guess. Well I believe I’ll retire for the night.

Kelly Brady was a girl I met when I was a boy in the White Water Band. She was from Greensboro, but we — the band and I — met her and a lot of other girls one wild summer week of playing a few nights at a campground in Myrtle Beach. You can read about it here. It is the stuff of legend — in my mind at least.

Captain’s Log: Stardate 012.378 [Monday, January 23, 1978]

It’s been an easy day. I guess the biggest thing is what I’m looking forward to doing. They are going to Kelly’s for a weekend, going to George and Betty’s for a week, working at a summer camp, and going to Minnesota in August . . . .

I remember going to Kelly’s in Greensboro. It was the weekend of an ice storm in that area. While I can hardly even recall what Kelly looked like (very blonde hair, I know) or what we did that weekend, I can remember watching the ice grow into a fantastic shape streaming from the sideview mirror as I drove I-40 East toward her place.

I probably went to George and Betty’s in Elizabeth City for a week at some point, but I didn’t work at the summer camp or go to Minnesota for a long time after that.

At 19 in 1978, I seem to have had no idea that two years later — at 21 in January 1980 — I’d be living in Nashville, Tennessee.

Captain’s Log: Stardate 012.080 [Sunday, January 20, 1980]

Well, I’m back in Nashville after a weekend at home. Saturday I saw Ed, Keith, Phill, and spent most of the day in Asheville with K———.

I had a joyfully uneventful trip back tonight and spent most of the time, after I got here, studying Accounting and will soon start CMH. I hope this will be a good week for the kid . . .

And two years after being a 21-year-old Belmont College music business student, I was 23 and singer-songwriter and newly signed with a small Nashville music publishing and production company.

Captain’s Log Stardate 8201.19 [Tuesday, January 19, 1982]

Delays and more delays! Earl has had problems with collecting money so as a result both mine and Ron’s checks have bounced. Then, in trying to right the whole thing, recording was postponed[;] now things look like it will be February before we start. I’m being patient enough I guess but we’ve had snows and ice storms so I’ve been cooped up here at the house for quite a while and now have a definite case of cabin fever; I’m stark raving stir crazy. I keep thinking about the album and what I’m gonna be able to get on tit and what it’s gonna come out sounding like . . . I’m about to explode! I’ve almost finished a rocker called “Some Kind of Magic” and I feel I’d like to record it; if need be in the place of “Fallin’ For You Again”. Also, there is a new slow ballad called “Just Can’t Find the Words” and I’d like to put it on the album. So many to choose from now that I cannot allow, if at all possible, anything outside of my own to show up on the record.

Mom is better these days and I hope is continuing to improve. I don’t want to talk about it much.

The romantic front is bleak as ever. C——— is the only one near and of course there is no future for that other than the great platonic relationship we have now. Everyone else I know is so far away. There’s a girl in Richmond, in New York City, in Toronto, in LA . . . I feel totally alone now and see no way out at this time because I don’t play the singles game and don’t have any oppurtunity [sic] to meet anyone at all. So, here sit I, the lonely man songs are made of but I try not to write sad songs so much anymore because that’s not what I want to do for people. Sure, they need sad songs to relate to and know others feel the same way but they also need the happy and hopeful to make them forget and know better day[s] are coming. All that aside, I am still a lonely heart, just me and my songs and my albums.

On the religious front, I feel there is some sort of battle raging over my soul. I keep wanting to really sit down and sort out my feelings toward God and Jesus, and to rethink my priorities a bit . . . a lot. There are times when I’m afraid that music and the things associated with it are becoming a god to me, obstructing my view of my true Father and my Savior Jesus the Christ. It is a great need of mine to stop and think this through but I can’t seem to stop my mind racing this way and that to think at all. I just hope the Lord understands and gives me time to come together. I know it’ll be alright . . .

Captain’s Log Stardate 8201.21 [Thursday, January 21, 1982]

“The Waiting is the hardest part” . . . TOM PETTY and waiting is all I seem to be doing these days; waiting to finish songs; waiting to start my album; waiting to get my money; waiting for love; waiting for the tomorrow that things will get better. It is said tomorrow never comes but I hope this time it will at least show itself. As I write this, Earl is trying to get my and Ron’s money back together, after which (hopefully it will be after the money is taken care of), he will be leaving for MIDEM ’82 in Europe (business) and he’ll be gone for 11 days. So that means if he leaves as he plans on 8201.25, he won’t return until 8202.06 which in turn means it will be at least that long before I can go to Nashville to start my life.

I have a lot of fear about this whole life. First, I fear what my music will turn out as in comparison w/ what I have heard it in my soul as being. I’m not sure Earl will want what I want and as a result, since he’s the boss, my music may soon be less my music. Second, I fear playing to the acceptance of the public: what will their reaction be if any? When the single of “Daisy” goes out, will anyone care at all for the heart and soul of my child? Can I accept the fact that it probably won’t go to #1, that it might not even make the HOT 100 or that it may not eve be played at all. Can I be satisfied with what does or does not happen? Third, I fear the stage, not the performing but the relating, no not really even the relating but rather the entertaining. Sure I can entertain my circle of friends but that’s easy because the[y] love me for myself and my music for being mine. Can I step out front and take a song or story and make people laugh or cry? Make them feel joy? pain? soothing? exhilaration? Fourth, I fear longevity. Can I write enough good songs to successfully sustain a career for 5 years? 10? 20 or 30? Fifth and last, I fear myself. I am very weak and I am afraid I might all too easily get caught up in myself, my music, my public, and/or “the business”. Might I become to[o] caught up in these things and their “busy-ness” and forget who I am and, more importantly, whose I am?

I fear all these things but not as much as I fear failure before even beginning. I don’t want to become a bitter, reclusive, untrusting soul at the tender age of 23. I feel so destined for all the good things I could dream of, could I accept the loss or alteration of those dreams.

With things like they are here at home coupled with the waitings and fears for my future, I feel I am about to explode and sometimes I wish I could and would . . .

Midem is described in this way: “Launched in 1967, Midem is dedicated to helping the music industry and its partners develop business and creativity by bringing together the key players of the music ecosystem over four days in Cannes.”

Although “Daisy” was the first song to catch the ears of people in Nashville, “Fiesta” was the one that emerged from the recording sessions to be the single.

Five years later, in January 1987, I was 28 years old, the age my son Raleigh is right now.

Captain’s Log Stardate 8701.18 [Sunday, January 18, 1987]

Unfortunately again I have let time pass between entries but things have been pretty even so I guess it’s OK. Things are going well. The holidays were fun and low key which is the way I like it these days. I mainly just did the family thing at Christmas and hung around with K——— a little. Sometimes I find it disappointing that I am not turned on by her. We are good friends which is most but not all of what really matters in life-long love. I thought about Leesa an awful lot while I was home but I did not make contact with her other than saying “Hello” through Wayne and Walda and sending her a card. I know that would have great difficulty working out if we were both free to try it but I’m haunted by the big question, “What would sex have been like with someone you love and are attracted to that much?” I hope I learn the answer one day but I don’t expect it to be from her. I did get another song from the deal, “The Best I’ve Ever Seen”. I really like it. It was also based partly on emotions felt as I finished another Larry McMurtry book Leaving Cheyenne. What a great writer and story!

The band is coming together slowly. We’ve got Ron Harvey in as bass player. It feels good and we will soon start woodshedding material.

Dad had chest pains a couple of weeks ago and will be having a triple by-pass surgery on Wednesday so I’ll spend next week in N. Carolina. I’m confident that things will work out well but there is a slightly hair-raising sensation about the whole ordeal.

I am still remaining in touch with A——— and J———. Hopefully there will be more options come down the line this year, even though I’d marry J——— in a heartbeat given the chance.

Christian artist Margaret Becker recorded a rewritten version of “Break the Silence” as the title of her LP debut. I wish now I’d gotten more involved with the rewrite but I blew it off . . .

So, I guess Dad had heart surgery on January 21, 1987. He was 55 years old. Wow! That’s six years younger than I am now. Somewhere along the line, somebody told me that such by-pass surgeries last about 10 years and then have to be redone in some way. Dad walked on just short of ten years after this surgery, on Thursday, November 7, 1996.

To end on a better note than the above, I did, in fact, learn what sex was like with somebody that I love and am powerfully attracted to. And it was, in fact, Leesa.