Words Come to Life

Last year, I helped craft a book with Robert Schneider. The book celebrates what it was like to raise a rock star- -Bob Jr. He also details living life as an entertainer.

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For about a year, he mentioned wanting to write a book. And, I bugged him about it enough too. He had an idea, and he was working on it. But, it wasn't complete. He mentioned it a time or two after teaching my son music on Tuesday nights.

Michael & Bob

Bob was good with my son. My son is stubborn. One evening, my son sang a Beatles' song with Bob and then he had the audacity to tell Bob, "You're not singing it right." Bob smirked and said, "I've been singing this song for forty years!" Then, my son straightened up and went back to strumming.

Michael and Bob got along well like this. Both of them had their own ways of doing things. Their stubborn tendencies seemed to complement each other well.

Bob lived two streets away from our house. It was fun to watch him park on our hill. Then, he'd grab his guitar and he couldn't wait to begin playing. He'd serenade Michael and I as we waited for him on our front porch. The music lesson would begin there.

Sometimes, we'd end up at the piano. I'd play a bit. Bob would strum the guitar. Michael would play and we'd end up singing a bit. Less me singing and more Bob and Michael.

My favorite song to hear them sing together was "Stand by Me."

First Impressions
Once Bob mentioned he was working on a book. Since I love bios, my ears perked up. He said he'd been working on it. And, knowing I'm a writer, he asked if I'd take a look at it.

I thought it sounded like fun. I love to hear stories. And, I knew he'd traveled the world. From the looks of his music room where Michael had his first music lesson, I could see he had performed all over the place. The photos of him playing different characters intrigued me.

Bob & Michael waking up the neighbors

My first impression of Bob was that he was a little rough around the edges. I liked that. He was passionate about his music. And, he was stubborn about his craft. I liked that too.

I liked that all of the pictures on the walls were not hung up in expensive frames. They were simply let's-remember-this-moment frames. After the first lesson, I asked about the stories hanging on the walls. Bob shared each story as if it had happened the day before.

Weeks passed, and when I'd share about my son's music lesson, the neighbors all knew Bob. Of course, they'd first mention that he was "Bob Schneider's dad." I asked, "Who?" Then, they'd laugh at me.

It turned out the "Bobby" Bob mentioned on our first visit was this big deal Austin musician. I didn't think too much of it.

Bob jr. not holding back

A few music lessons later, I looked up and noticed pictures on Bob's walls showing a timeline of growing grandchildren and beautiful pictures of his son growing up. These memories were inches away from his performance picture trophies.

Becoming a fan
Watching Bob's eyes light up when he talked about his son, and hearing all this stuff from fans, got to me. I finally see a show.  I think he's not bad. And, about three shows later, I realize I had become a major fan.

While looking at the newspaper clips framed on Bob's walls, I feel like I should confess. I get what everyone is talking about now.

I say, "Hey, so I saw your son play for the first time a few months ago . . . I liked him."

Bob looks up, smiles, and continues with the music lesson.

Bob Schneider jr. at the Saxon Pub

Not wanting our relationship to change, I was trapped between feeling major enthusiasm for his son's work and just realizing who I was hanging out with on Tuesday nights. This rugged music teacher with so many around-the-world music stories, was now also the father of my favorite musician.

Let's do this
Months pass and I mention the book to Bob again. He said, "Yeah, I've done a draft or two. I'll send you a draft." Three months pass. He says, "Yeah, I'll send you a draft. We'll work on it."

Six months pass and then, before he leaves one day, I just tell him boldly on my front porch,  "Hey. So I know I need to move. I have to move. But, I've been dragging my feet to move because I want to finish this book with you. Let's finish this book!"

He stops. He looks down. He looks back up. He says, "I'll send it to you."

He sends me the work. And we work on it through email. I remember my husband telling me, "Let's go to dinner . . . kids are waiting." And, I'd be editing Bob's work. And, I'd have to be dragged away from my computer.

But, then what a real joy for me to have the first drafts of something. I can say I was a part of that. I read the story when it was being created. I saw the pictures first. I encouraged the author to just keep going.  And, he trusted me to help him, which was an honor I grew to appreciate too.

And, through that experience, I grew to learn about my favorite Austin musician as well.

The book comes to life
Last summer, the book was published. The book celebrates what it was like to raise a rock star- -Bob Jr. He also details living life as an entertainer.

I heard stories about his family, the loss of his mother, and the moment he met his wife. The story details his wedding, their musical lives, traveling and moments striving to pay the rent and living in very close quarters to make life work. It wasn't easy.

He wanted to follow his dream, and that dream came with a cost. It didn't always mean success, but when there was success, the open doors were celebrated.

Celebration might mean that the whole family stood cheering on his bride while she powered through a German typing test to support the family. Or, when the family got the call that they'd have a way to entertain overseas. And, it wasn't too long when his own music inspired his son's journey too.

And, he admits he wasn't perfect. His adventures detail honest reflection and triumph; he writes about being sober since 1999 and shares he wasn't always the husband or father he needed to be.

Sometimes life brings strange connections. I found as I was listening to Bob's story, he was changing mine.

Last night, I dreamed that I was with Bob and we were driving along a high winding road stories tall. I looked over and saw the ground was more than 100 feet below us. I saw the winding roads and I was scared, much like the way I felt like last night coming home in fog so dense I got lost near a corn field a mile from my house.

In the dream, Bob stopped driving, he pulled over and gave me the wheel. I looked around and saw that he had driven the car around a sharp corner and then, when he didn't see the bridge, he knew when to break and when to accelerate so he could make the jump.

A winding path between Bob Sr.'s house and mine

He said, "Go for it! Stop worrying. Just go for it already!"

Like everything else he strived for, if it didn't work, he just kept trying. When he finished an adventure, he went for another one. If someone blew him off, he just banged on another door.

Like in Bob's story, I learned not to let others' limits limit me.

I learned not to be afraid of what might not happen, but to look for what can happen when the road suddenly appears.

And, when it does, by all means, claim it with unyielding confidence.