Changing Parameters

Wednesday, February 21, 2007

In Memory


On January 28, my 16-year-old cousin Cameron Chase Lee was killed in a car accident in his hometown of Mystic, CT. He is missed more than words can say. I've looked for poems and song lyrics to pay tribute to him, but I haven't found anything sufficient. His family and his many friends keep him in their hearts -- he lives on in us.

And on us -- about 25 of his friends, his brother, his mother, his aunt, and others I probably don't even know about, have gotten tattoos in his memory.

Here is mine. It's on my upper back on the left side. This picture was taken just after it was done, which is why the skin looks pink around it. It has healed nicely and looks great. I look at it every day to remind myself of the way that Cameron lived. I wish I'd known him better -- nothing I can do about that now. All I can do is try to live better. I made a list of a few things I took away from the week I spent in Connecticut with Cameron's family, meeting and spending time with Cameron's closest friends, listening to stories of how he lived, looking at pictures, and marvelling at the strength of love.

Things Cam Taught Me about Life and Love
Cameron lived and loved. Let him be an example.
Be there for the people you love.
Embrace the challenges.
If someone you love is in need, try to help them find what's missing.
Ask yourself what you’ve done to keep yourself alive or prolong your life today.
Fight your fears.
Work hard.
Play hard.
Call a friend.
Send your grandparents a card.
Tell your parents you love them.
Find the things that feed your soul.
Be open to love.
Let the good things come.
Give as good as you get.
Stop waiting for your real life to begin.
Never put your life on hold for anything.
Embrace your inner fool.
Let your freak flag fly.

I try to think of this list once a day -- sometimes I add something to it, or reword it as things become clearer. It's my life list. And my Cameron tattoo is my reminder to stop and think about it.

Cameron Chase Lee -- from what his friends tell me, he was bringin' sexy back, to know him was to love him (or at least laugh a lot), and his feet really, really stank. To me, he will always be FOREVER YOUNG.

Tuesday, February 20, 2007

Who Knows Where the Time Goes?


It's been ages since I've written, so there's way too much to say. To sum up -- since my last entry, I have made a change or two in my life. Quit my soul-crushing job in New York (hooray!), moved to PA, applied to grad school, started teaching voice, and cut off all my hair (see pictures). Obviously the haircut is the most impressive and gutsy move of the bunch. But let me tell you a little bit about the other stuff.

Some of you may recall that, about a year ago, I ran a marathon (broke my foot, yadda yadda). It was a strange thing for me to do. I've never been the least bit athletic, and I get grumpy if I have to run to catch the bus. I couldn't have told you why at the time, but it was something I had to do. It was a great experience, broken foot and all. I made some very good friends, and on top of that, I started down a new career path.

How it all began...

It was two nights before the marathon, and a bunch of us from the team had gone out to dinner. I sat next to one of the team members who I'd yet to get to know (there were about 40 people on the team, so it was hard to get to know everyone -- and I'm pretty shy), and he told me that he was a speech-language pathologist.

A what?

He explained that he helped people who had speech problems and disorders, and in addition to that, he was also a voice teacher.

Hmmm. I used to sing. In fact, I used to be a voice teacher.

Tom, my new friend, went on to tell me how much he loved what he did.

Hmmm. There are people who love what they do? This was news to me.

I asked him dozens of questions -- what kind of training is involved? how long does it take? can you make a good living? -- and as he spoke I got more and more excited.

Is this something I could do? I wondered.

Though the excitement of the marathon distracted me for the next few days, I knew that night that something important had happened.

The seed was planted...

Then I broke my foot. And as a result of breaking my foot, my seat on the flight back from Arizona (where the marathon was) had to be moved so that I could sit next to the coach and elevate my foot (we thought that would be better than asking a stranger if they minded holding my broken foot in their lap for the entire flight). And next to the coach was my new friend Tom! So, I got to bother him with more questions on the flight back.

Now, because my law firm had just merged with another law firm, it had this wonderful (and uncharacteristic) medical leave policy. I was able to take eight weeks off -- fully paid!!! -- so I took 'em all. It was the beginning of the end (don't worry -- that's a good thing).

I used those eight weeks to research speech-language pathology programs and try to figure out how I could make this happen. I came up with a sort of vague outline of a plan. It was all very exciting.

But then again...

The eight weeks flew by, and before I knew it, it was time to go back to my soul-crushing job. Within a week, my soul was crushed, and my courage was dampened. I started feeding in to the garbage that a place like that dishes out: be a cog! be a cog! be a cog! put on these blinders and be a cog!

Tough Love

Luckily, I have some really good friends, and one of them -- one I met in the marathon, in fact -- asked me how the grad school search was going. I told her it was on hold for now. Why? she asked. Because I can't deal with the idea of living like a student again -- I like having money to go out to eat with friends and travel sometimes. I like not being broke. I can't deal with that kind of change.

"Oh," she said. "So, in a year you figure, what -- you'll be at the same job, or another one just like it?" she asked.

For a moment I thought my heart had stopped. Then it started to race as the idea of being at that job -- or any job like it -- for another year started to sink in. I realized that being a student -- being broke, being in debt -- was nothing compared to continuing down the road I was on.

An epiphany moment on the New York City subway system. I love those!

Anyway, long story short, I started making my plans again. And then I started to chicken out again. And then I had dinner with Tom (the speech-language pathologist who started this whole ball rolling), and he suggested I go to a voice course to get my juices flowing again.

Now, keep in mind that at this point, I'm an ex-singer. I'm only interested in speech-language pathology, not teaching voice.

The Kicker

OK, says I -- who's teaching this workshop?

"Kim Steinhauer," Tom tells me.

Now, if you are one of the few readers of this blog who actually went to high school with me (hi Amy! hi Wendy!), then you know why that name made all the difference in the world. Kim Steinhauer was married to Tim Steinhauer, my high school band teacher. We LOVED Mr. Steinhauer. And once, when we were rehearsing the high school musical, Bye Bye Birdie, his wife Kim came in to teach us some vocal warm-ups. It was the strangest vocal experience of my life (up to that point), and very enlightening and memorable. When I told my voice teacher at the time about the exercises she had us doing, he made me promise never ever to do them again.

Well, I broke that promise -- and then some.

Finding out that Kim would be teaching the workshop sealed the deal. I went home and maxed out my credit cards to enroll in the course and book the flight and a week's stay at a hotel in Los Angeles.

The course was in the Estill Voice Training System. And that course changed everything.

That was July. It's now February -- not even a year later -- and long story short (too late, I know), I am singing again (hooray!) and have started teaching voice. I also got my first level of Estill certification in December (CFP) and am studying now to take the test to become a Certified Master Teacher, which I'll do by this July if not sooner. (From zero to Estill in under a year!) And then I will go on to make billions of dollars as voice teacher to the stars.

For now I'm, as predicted, living like a poor student (and at my mom's, no less!) I'm also working with my two voice teachers (Tom from the marathon in New York and Kim Steinhauer in Pittsburgh) on a top-secret project to start a new corporate voice training company. It's all very exciting and high tech. I'm writing the course materials and helping with some of the marketing. And once I'm certified, I'll be a CFP, CMT and CVT (corporate voice trainer). And then -- who knows -- maybe I'll go to grad school to get my Ph.D. (if I get in!)

So that's the scoop. And believe it or not, that's, as I like to say, the nutshell version!