The Quest
Lately, I have been reviewing my rather conspicuous accomplishments. No doubt brought upon by my approaching birthday, I have found myself remembering friends and associates from the past. I am scheduled to attend a seminar this weekend in Chicago. While there, it will be a homecoming of sorts as I lived there several years ago. I will try to squeeze in some time to visit with old and dear friends. So as I have been flipping through my address book, two thoughts had occurred to me.
First, recrimination for not having kept in touch on a more frequent basis with those I thought enough of to put their name in my book in the first place, and,
Second, a commitment to re-establish contact with those that I can reach.
So, here is where one particular journey has taken me.
After high school, I took my first job in the music business working for a small independent distributor in Detroit. The name of this company was called AMI Distributors and was owned by three men who, themselves, were childhood friends. I could share many stories of the many characters I met there and the unusual dynamic that centered on these three gentlemen. One person in particular had a tremendous impact on my life and I have thought about this mentor frequently through the past twenty odd years since I last spoke or saw him.
I have begun the process of trying to contact him again just to offer my thanks for the last impression and the lessons I learned from him, my unwitting mentor. I hope that it will still be possible to reach him for I am long overdue in telling him what his confidence and support has meant to me to this day.
Conclusion: Shortly after making this post, I was searching through some old notes I had stashed. In a bundle of several folded scraps of paper, I found an old phone number of my former employer / mentor. I dialed the number and after several area code variations, I was greeted with a recording that announced the number had changed, etc. etc. I phoned the new number and a woman answered. I explained that I was trying to locate someone and I hoped I wasn't disturbing her evening. I told her I was looking for the Bobby Schwartz residence. She said that I had the correct number but that Bobby was deceased. She added that she was his daughter. I shared my condolences and told her my reason for seeking to talk with her father and what he meant to me in my life. In moments after hanging up the phone, I was greeted by my expected disappointment and validated the importance of sharing the way we feel with those we care while we can.
Perhaps I will share some stories about Bobby "Sugar" Schwartz but not today.
First, recrimination for not having kept in touch on a more frequent basis with those I thought enough of to put their name in my book in the first place, and,
Second, a commitment to re-establish contact with those that I can reach.
So, here is where one particular journey has taken me.
After high school, I took my first job in the music business working for a small independent distributor in Detroit. The name of this company was called AMI Distributors and was owned by three men who, themselves, were childhood friends. I could share many stories of the many characters I met there and the unusual dynamic that centered on these three gentlemen. One person in particular had a tremendous impact on my life and I have thought about this mentor frequently through the past twenty odd years since I last spoke or saw him.
I have begun the process of trying to contact him again just to offer my thanks for the last impression and the lessons I learned from him, my unwitting mentor. I hope that it will still be possible to reach him for I am long overdue in telling him what his confidence and support has meant to me to this day.
Conclusion: Shortly after making this post, I was searching through some old notes I had stashed. In a bundle of several folded scraps of paper, I found an old phone number of my former employer / mentor. I dialed the number and after several area code variations, I was greeted with a recording that announced the number had changed, etc. etc. I phoned the new number and a woman answered. I explained that I was trying to locate someone and I hoped I wasn't disturbing her evening. I told her I was looking for the Bobby Schwartz residence. She said that I had the correct number but that Bobby was deceased. She added that she was his daughter. I shared my condolences and told her my reason for seeking to talk with her father and what he meant to me in my life. In moments after hanging up the phone, I was greeted by my expected disappointment and validated the importance of sharing the way we feel with those we care while we can.
Perhaps I will share some stories about Bobby "Sugar" Schwartz but not today.
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