Goinsomewhere

Some time in his young journey, he’d gotten the impression he had a good singing voice.  Supplemented by the periodic praise and polite-but-sincere encouragement of others, he thought he’d give singing a try, in an effort to combine passion with profession.

Unfortunately he ran into one of those all-too-common people in the arts who are convinced the only way they can make themselves more important is to put down the efforts of others.  He returned home to Indiana, and became a janitor at the middle school that was just a few blocks from his home.

For 23 years, that was his life—loved by the kids, praised for what little singing he did in local choirs and around school, he was arguably Harry Chapin’s Mr. Tanner brought to life.  Music was his life, but it was not his livelihood.

And yet. 

Happy with his work, engaged, and by all means settled down, he decided to give his heart’s calling one more try.  Off he went to Los Angeles, to audition for America’s Got Talent.  He walked onstage almost apologetically, dressed more for work than an audition, barely making eye contact with the judges.

To be fair, his choice of song is a favorite in my hometown, since it’s played at the end of every Detroit Red Wings home victory.  This is largely because the first verse makes a reference to South Detroit, something that actually doesn’t exist, since downtown stops at the river’s edge, which gives way to Windsor (yes, Detroit is north of Canada).

But it was immediately clear I wasn’t alone in my admiration for what Richard was doing to my city’s unofficial anthem.  Within seconds, his Steve-Perry-soundalike voice yielded delight and amazement from the studio audience.  This wasn’t pity applause for a nice guy who needed to try, then have something to talk about in retirement. 

Within two minutes, 2000 people were on their feet, clapping and singing along.  Throw in a couple of beach balls and some $60 T-shirts, and you’d swear Richard was on tour.  By the time he hit the high notes in the chorus, everyone was bathed in the power of the possible.  The place fell silent when he stopped singing, and then went Batman crazy.

The judges adored him.  Simon Cowell turns out to be a pretty nice guy, and lavished Richard with praise.  Howie Mandell won the day, saying “After 23 years of practice, you really cleaned up”, and Heidi Klum—who was clearly dressed as if she were auditioning—advanced him to the finals of the contest, then hugged Richard, helping him call his fiancée with the news.

Right.  Richard Goodall got the monkey off his back, taking his first plane ride and performing before millions, alone.

Richard went on to win AGT that year.  He used the $1 million prize to pay off his house, but that was about it.  He’s still a janitor at the same middle school, and takes performances when time permits.

People sometimes wonder what they can do to improve the world.  Permit me to suggest, when the next Richard Goodall comes into your life, and you don’t think they have it, find something to like about what they’ve done, tell them only that, and be genuine.  The world could have used more of his voice this past 23 years, and we currently need all the heartfelt hope everyone has to offer. Your task on this Earth is to extract exactly, and only, that. It could do wonders for them.  It will definitely do wonders for you.

Oh—and his song?  Don’t Stop Believing.

Purity

A topic not discussed as much
In public chats or private note|
It often misses summer’s touch
And oft eludes long winter’s throat
The butt of high school jokes it seems
The goal of loss in college schemes.

And then one day the years gone by
With obligations deep and long
We turn about and wonder why
We bade farewell. Were we so wrong
To ship it off for worldly things
Which now with hollow promise rings?

In this long stark-deep night we ask

For its return with any task.

We look with earnest effort long
For its encore in noble act
One bold event to right the wrong
And bring a pristine viewpoint back
We look from locales far and near
And find that deed not there nor here.

Then in a moment unannounced 
Our active search for newness hushed
A voice diminutive pronounces
In a gentle tone unrushed
The quality you wish renewed
Has been forever there in you

No action made it leave your side
But wrapped within your fear it hides.

And so in dark or broadest day
Not with a work but simple thought
What once seemed gone was here alway 
Not won with action. Simply wrought
By true heart where it long had been
Residing in all women and men.

Its view now clear we reengage
With life’s new purpose on this stage
Amazed to know that with good care
It really has been ever there. 

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