anything to drink?”
Johnny regained his composure quickly, but was unsure how to handle the situation. Buddy had coached him about how to deal with Mark Scott, but this was a new variable. This Jason guy was completely different from how Mark had been described. He seemed confident and ready to get down to business. Johnny quickly decided to just be himself, and hoped he was not over the top. “No thank you, but I can’t tell you how grateful I am to you for meeting with me.”
They walked down a small hall to the office, the executive talking along the way. “Oh, no problem. Buddy called last night after he talked to you. He is pretty big on you and he has been around for a long time, so we figured you must have something. Right now we are really looking for some fresh talent and, according to Buddy, you fit the bill.”
Johnny sat down in a firm chair next to Mr. Crownfield’s desk. He took out the demo tape, his shaking hands belying the gravity of the moment. Much to his amazement, Mr. Crownfield took it and immediately put it in the cassette player. Without hesitation, he pushed play and turned to face Johnny.
Johnny sat on the edge of the cushion, tapping his right leg nervously. He heard his own voice fill the room and studied the face of his audience of one. Normally quite astute at reading his listeners, the one that counted most eluded him. What is he thinking? Does he like it, hate it? Come on, man, throw me a clue.
After ten agonizing minutes, Johnny was ready to crawl out of his skin. Then he saw it: the slightest curvature of the mouth, the lifting of the right eyebrow. I’ve got him. He likes it, he likes it!
Crownfield cleared his throat and looked directly at Johnny. “Johnny, I’m a straight shooter. There’s no time to be delicate. Your stuff is raw and lacks maturity, but luckily those are the two things that we can develop. You do have a certain quality that country music is missing right now, and from what I’m hearing …”
What? From what you are hearing, what? Come on, man, say it. Say you love it.
Crownfield cleared his throat. “Well it makes me want to hear more. Here’s how this works. You sign with us initially as a songwriter. We gradually give you some shots by being the opening act for some of the bigger stars. Then we see where that takes us. You won’t make enough money to live on, so I suggest you hold on to whatever job you have. Johnny, it’s not easy to make it big, and to be honest, you probably never will. But, if you are willing to work your butt off and get paid peanuts, I’m willing to sign you right now.”
Johnny leaped out of his chair and halfway over the desk-“Yes!” He made two fists and raised them upward. “I’ll sign right now; I cut my teeth on hard work and peanuts! Sign me up!”
“All right then, Johnny.” Jason Crownfield laughed despite himself. “Why don’t you just go on down to the conference room, and I’ll have Darlene pull the paperwork together. It’s a standard contract, but you take your time and read through it. I’ll answer any questions you might have. Go on down and I’ll be with you in a few minutes.”
He watched Johnny go into the conference room and closed his office door. Walking over to his desk, he picked up the phone and quickly punched the numbers. “Mark, hey, yea, I just heard the Clark kid’s demo, and I got to tell you, Buddy wasn’t joking. This guy is terrific. Yep, I’m signing him today before anyone else discovers him. I believe he is the best find we have had in years. Okay, talk to you when you get back. You are really going to like this one. Later, man.”
M ISSION I MPOSSIBLE
1991 G UAM , USA
Guam was truly the best kept secret in the Air Force as far as she was concerned. Dale had arrived there three months ago and fell in love with it as soon as she got off the plane, despite the incapacitating humidity. Her love for the island had only grown from the day of her arrival.
Johnny regained his composure quickly, but was unsure how to handle the situation. Buddy had coached him about how to deal with Mark Scott, but this was a new variable. This Jason guy was completely different from how Mark had been described. He seemed confident and ready to get down to business. Johnny quickly decided to just be himself, and hoped he was not over the top. “No thank you, but I can’t tell you how grateful I am to you for meeting with me.”
They walked down a small hall to the office, the executive talking along the way. “Oh, no problem. Buddy called last night after he talked to you. He is pretty big on you and he has been around for a long time, so we figured you must have something. Right now we are really looking for some fresh talent and, according to Buddy, you fit the bill.”
Johnny sat down in a firm chair next to Mr. Crownfield’s desk. He took out the demo tape, his shaking hands belying the gravity of the moment. Much to his amazement, Mr. Crownfield took it and immediately put it in the cassette player. Without hesitation, he pushed play and turned to face Johnny.
Johnny sat on the edge of the cushion, tapping his right leg nervously. He heard his own voice fill the room and studied the face of his audience of one. Normally quite astute at reading his listeners, the one that counted most eluded him. What is he thinking? Does he like it, hate it? Come on, man, throw me a clue.
After ten agonizing minutes, Johnny was ready to crawl out of his skin. Then he saw it: the slightest curvature of the mouth, the lifting of the right eyebrow. I’ve got him. He likes it, he likes it!
Crownfield cleared his throat and looked directly at Johnny. “Johnny, I’m a straight shooter. There’s no time to be delicate. Your stuff is raw and lacks maturity, but luckily those are the two things that we can develop. You do have a certain quality that country music is missing right now, and from what I’m hearing …”
What? From what you are hearing, what? Come on, man, say it. Say you love it.
Crownfield cleared his throat. “Well it makes me want to hear more. Here’s how this works. You sign with us initially as a songwriter. We gradually give you some shots by being the opening act for some of the bigger stars. Then we see where that takes us. You won’t make enough money to live on, so I suggest you hold on to whatever job you have. Johnny, it’s not easy to make it big, and to be honest, you probably never will. But, if you are willing to work your butt off and get paid peanuts, I’m willing to sign you right now.”
Johnny leaped out of his chair and halfway over the desk-“Yes!” He made two fists and raised them upward. “I’ll sign right now; I cut my teeth on hard work and peanuts! Sign me up!”
“All right then, Johnny.” Jason Crownfield laughed despite himself. “Why don’t you just go on down to the conference room, and I’ll have Darlene pull the paperwork together. It’s a standard contract, but you take your time and read through it. I’ll answer any questions you might have. Go on down and I’ll be with you in a few minutes.”
He watched Johnny go into the conference room and closed his office door. Walking over to his desk, he picked up the phone and quickly punched the numbers. “Mark, hey, yea, I just heard the Clark kid’s demo, and I got to tell you, Buddy wasn’t joking. This guy is terrific. Yep, I’m signing him today before anyone else discovers him. I believe he is the best find we have had in years. Okay, talk to you when you get back. You are really going to like this one. Later, man.”
M ISSION I MPOSSIBLE
1991 G UAM , USA
Guam was truly the best kept secret in the Air Force as far as she was concerned. Dale had arrived there three months ago and fell in love with it as soon as she got off the plane, despite the incapacitating humidity. Her love for the island had only grown from the day of her arrival.
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