The Troubadour
He was part of a popular singing duo in Cleveland in the
1970s, the one that called themselves “20th Century Troubadours.” He
was a singer, songwriter, artist, comedian, impressionist, vegetarian, and wise
soul with an ageless quality. His whole being was about the creative life,
something quite far from her everyday existence. She often thought of him as a
child-man because of the joy that emanated from him, his colorful drawings that
featured wide-eyed and cherry cheeked beings, and the clever wordplay in his
songs.
One day, sometime over the last few years, she decided to
check Wikipedia to see what he was doing. The last time she had spoken to him
he was visiting Ohio from his home in California. He knew she had gotten
divorced, found her number and called her up, much to her surprise. She had to
tell him that she was already in another relationship, one that lasts to this
day.
He had gone to California in the early 1980s chasing a
Disney dream that paid off handsomely in voice and song work for many years. She
had seen his credit as “the seahorse” in The
Little Mermaid in 1989, but
didn’t know the extent of his work. The list of his voiceover credits and other
contributions is long. He had made his way in California, and is still there today
at 80-years-old, although it appears he may have retired.
Today she listened to an album he and his duo partner had
made in 1979, one that she and a whole host of other people were invited to
contribute their voices to on a fun song called “The Cleveland Stroll.” She had
been putting off listening to the album ever since the vinyl record player
arrived on Wednesday. But then something happened today that pushed her
forward.
She was digging around looking for some missing LPs, when
she came across a notebook. She grabbed it and thought she’d have a look. This
notebook, sparse with some poetry written over large swatches of time, reveals
a story she knows well: back in 1979, she was getting married to the wrong man.
She had been in love with the troubadour. In one poem she says, “It can never
be.” In another she professes her love after an animated conversation with him
in which he called himself “the underdog” -- a veiled way of saying, You chose someone else over me.
He was right, of course. She had. Stupidly.
She was so out of her element with this highly talented
person, she couldn’t even see beyond her little life. She didn’t know how to
listen to her heart. She only knew that it would be extremely difficult to do
anything different, so better to not even try.
To say she lacked self-confidence would be an
understatement.
She married. He left for California.
What if it had been different? She had never spent much time
thinking about it until this prompt came along.
Maybe she would have gotten into writing songs with him.
Maybe she would have done her own writing. Everything she
knew about him made her believe he would have been supportive.
Maybe she would have gotten into singing, a dream she had at
the time.
Maybe she would have even gotten into acting. After all, it
was an acting teacher who told her she should take voice lessons, something her
fiancé squelched.
Maybe she would have gone to movie premiers in fancy gowns –
although that doesn’t seem to fit the troubadour’s style, but who knows?
Maybe she would still be in California.
Maybe she would have left Ohio much sooner, and not seen her
family much.
Maybe she would have not spent the beautiful years in the
Blue Ridge Mountains that mean so much to her.
Maybe she would have never gone to college, got a masters.
Maybe she would have never become a teacher.
Maybe she would never be part of this writing circle that
means so much to her.
She knows that despite the words she saw on the page today
that stopped her in her tracks, that she was making the only decisions she
could make at the time.
Writing this was a wonderful exercise in exploring the
possibilities that were not to be.
And the best part: no
regrets.
***
Will Ryan bio and credits for acting, writing, soundtrack: https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0752900/
