The Saddest Thing That I Have Ever Seen

I love Allie Brosh's blog Hyperbole and a Half. I love it so much that i'm directing a short film based on one of her blogs. In fact, it was my inspiration for starting this blog. But as i've been spending my days at work wading backwards through her archive, i keep seeing mention upon mention of the song "Midnight Train" (aka, "Don't Stop Believin'") by Journey. This is a little bit of a problem for me, because every time that song crosses my mind, it makes me think of The Saddest Thing That I Have Ever Seen. That is all capitalized because it is a proper noun. It's short for The Saddest Thing That I Have Ever Seen In My Entire Life Thus Far, And Probably Sadder Than Anything I Will Ever See Again.

Now, i have never been a fan of Journey. There is not one moment in my life that you could point to and say, "See that right there? He is totally into Journey right now." Even when i was growing up and i was quite fond of my dad's music, Journey was never really something i voluntarily listened to. Rush, absolutely. Styx, yes. Even Kansas, which is so damn near Journey that you'd be surprised i would differentiate the two. Hell, i had my own copy of Kansas - Greatest Hits on cassette.

So here's the story.

Earlier this year, i did an internship with Madison's adult alternative radio station, 105.5 Triple M. I was a cameraman for the second season of their web-based reality show, Project M. The gist of the project was that they took ten local musicians and put them in a Survivor-type contest, where the winner would get to open for a national touring act and have a meeting with an executive from Atlantic Records, on top of some other free shit from Guitar Center and Ancora Coffee. There was also lots of free pizza, beer, and Monster energy drink for all of the contestants and the crew (such as myself).

The weeks went by and the contestants dropped one by one until they were down to four. On the second to last episode of the season, we relocated from Triple M's in-house studio to the High Noon Saloon, probably the biggest bar in Madison. That week, they wanted to beef up the program a bit, since the general public was invited, so rather than just have the four performers play their songs, they got an opening act.

Good N Loud Music, a local instrument store, is one of Project M's sponsors. So, to open the second biggest show of the season, they got...the students from Good N Loud's music program. We are speaking here of kids between the ages of eight and fifteenish.

I could have forgiven that. Kids need encouragement and the arts, especially music, are something that i support fervently. These kids deserved a moment in the spotlight.

They deserved a moment. Not 75 minutes.

Besides the fact that there were at least twelve kids on the stage at one time, being a bass player, a drummer, a keyboardist and nine guitarists, i knew something was wrong when i saw their teacher step in. I had thought at first that he was on stage to help the kids set their stuff up, make sure they're in tune, and so on, but i was wrong.

After checking in on each of his students, this roughly potato-shaped man with one of the world's Top 100 Gnarliest Beards strapped on a guitar, stepped up to the microphone, and introduced himself and his students (not by name - just as his students). In his introduction, he gave the impression that they were to perform two short three-song sets. With himself on lead guitar and vocals.

I wish i could say i'm making this up, but really, i don't think i could if i tried. It was like a real-life version of that crappy Jack Black movie, School of Rock. But picture Jack Black as a middle-aged 1980s-style computer nerd with thick glasses.

I don't remember what their first song was, but it was a cover. Then their next song was a cover. Then their third song was a cover. Then their FOURTH song was a cover. Somewhere mixed in there was "Brain Stew" by Green Day, which made me want to spew blood from all seven orifices of my head. Their seventh song was "Midnight Train." That's how they closed out the set. Then they took a break, and i think most of the parents left.

I wanted to cry. I wanted to weep for my immortal soul, hoping that it hadn't been crushed by what it had just witnessed. What i had just stood in the front for, right up by the stage so that i could get good close-ups of those poor, poor kids, standing in the shadow of their music instructor's gigantic ego.

Except for the one kid, about fifteen, tall, obnoxious, and at least as egotistical as his teacher. This kid, whom i'd met before at one of the other Project M sessions, had the ego of Brett Michaels and the physique of DJ Qualls. He would be constantly showboating, sticking his tongue out and leaning back like he was in Poison or something. He acted like he was playing at the Coliseum, all sold out and shit. He was like the instructor's ego's Mini-Me. I did not feel sorry for that one. At the previous Triple M session, he had actually said to one of the contestants, "Don't mess with me or you get the fist."

As i moved back to the green room with my gear, i felt like a wet rag. Like i'd just been in Mortal Kombat with an asthmatic fourteen year old girl with braces and gotten my ass kicked. I felt embarrassed for having even been there. And for having filmed it.

Half an hour later, they all got back on the stage to play another set.

It was almost the exact same set. They'd swapped out two of the songs. "Brain Stew" remained. And again they closed with "Midnight Train."

So every time that i hear, or even THINK the words, "Don't stop...belieeeeeeeeving...!" i don't even hear Steve Perry's voice. All i see and hear in my head is that potato-shaped computer nerd, standing in front of his band of jailbait rockstars, like he's the king of the world.

If i ever see anything in the world that is sadder than that, i will probably kill myself.