by Robin Munson
Music runs in my family. My father, who had written songs during World War II as a POW in Germany, had dismissed the notion of being a professional songwriter after the war as a crazy, impractical idea. He opted instead to partner with his brothers in a home improvement business in order to provide for our family. My mother, who had inherited a beautiful singing voice from my grandmother, loved to sing and made no secret that she was a frustrated Judy Garland.
So it’s not surprising that all my life I wanted to be a musician and I opted in on piano and voice lessons quite early on. But I soon came to realize that my chosen profession was not exactly the most stable one in the world. My father used to quip, “It’s not a profession, it’s a cult.” And for all my mother”s encouragement in general, she lectured us on the vicissitudes of The Biz. Furthermore, surrounded as I was by very talented musicians, it seemed to me that at best, I was mildly gifted. Continue reading