Unplugged (A Portrait of a Rock Star) (22 page)

“Taggart.  Taggart Holland.”  My father’s baritone voice resonated through my house.  He hadn’t knocked like he usually did.  “What the hell is this?”  He threw the local newspaper at me.  I picked it up and read the headline.  TAGG HOLLAND BUYS CRAIGMEUR RECREATION COMPLEX.

“Calm down, Auggie.”

“I hate when you call me Auggie.  I’m your frigging father.”

“Calm down, Dad.”  I made sure to emphasize the word Dad.  I knew I should have informed my father of my latest venture. 

I hadn’t spoken to him in about a month or so, since before the concert, when he told me I was a poor excuse for a man.  Or something like that.

“I thought you enjoyed yourself on stage.  You certainly looked like you did and your mom said you were glad you were back.”  Auggie.  Dad continued before I had a chance to explain.  “I don’t understand you sometimes.  You have the world in your hands and you toss it around like a rubber ball, not caring if it bounces away from you.”

What did that even mean?  “I did enjoy the stage, Dad.   But, it’s not all I want to do with my life.  Actually, I’d prefer not to perform anymore.”  The instigator in me decided to provoke Dad by not embellishing at the moment.  I walked into the kitchen and poured myself a cup of coffee, waiting for him to fly off the proverbial handle.  One.  Two.  Three.

“Jesus Christ Taggart, are you starting this shit again?  You can’t just quit in the middle of a tour.  Your album is due out next month.  What the hell?  You’re gonna give up before it even hits the market?”  He protested, loudly, from the living room.

I coolly sauntered back in the room with my mug of coffee and sat myself down on the couch, crossing my foot over my knee.  Appearing as much the asshole as I could.  Dad always gave me grief.  It was about time I gave it back. 

But of course, that wouldn’t last very long.  “No, Dad, I’m not going to quit.”

“Then what’s this about buying Craigmeur?”  He emphatically poked at the newspaper, the sound of the crinkling urging at my nerves as he poked, poked, poked.

“Sit down, Dad.”  I motioned him to the couch.  I’d had enough of playing with him; I needed to fill him in.  He sat.  “Something stirred inside me after I taught little Bobby that Heart and Soul song.”  Dad looked utterly confused, so I explained it to him.  “When Mara was first admitted into the burn center, this little patient came up to me while I was playing the piano and thought it was so cool.  I offered to teach him a song and he was so enthralled with my offer.  It was such a simple song and it took virtually no time from my day.” I paused to remember little Bobby. “Yet the grace on his face when he thanked me for teaching him something so super was beyond words, Dad.  I went on to teach some of the other children there also.”

Dad nodded, but still interrupted.  “Kenya told me you were giving lessons at the hospital.  I must have shrugged it off as another one of your insane moments.”

“Thanks, Dad.”  But he smiled to let me know he was teasing.  I knew he meant the bit of truth that lied behind the joke.

I continued talking anyway.  “So, this idea came to me.  What if I could teach other children music?  Not just piano.  How many kids’ lives could I enrich by bringing music into their lives?  Especially the underprivileged ones, or the children whose parents were getting by but just didn’t have the extra money for music lessons.  Or what about the children, like Bobby?  I wouldn’t want to turn away any child, for any reason…. The public schools usually provide music during the school year, but not in the summer.  I figured, what if I could do that?  Provide summer instruction, I mean.  For practically nothing. Or nothing, if the parents had no extra money.” I ran my hands through my hair, excited to divulge my news. “I was driving by Craigmeur and saw the FOR SALE sign, so I called the realtor and offered to buy it.  Then, I called the County College of Morris and William Paterson University, both having wonderful music programs, and asked to be put on their list of intern recipients.  Their students could help me teach.  My vision is a not-for-profit summer music camp. A sleepover camp – Camp Holland.” I splayed my hand out in front of me…for dramatic effect.  “I want it to be ready for this summer, Dad.”

“Taggart, do you know how much money something like that will entail.  If you’re not asking for payment, how do you expect to keep the camp open?”

“Yes, I am aware of the financial burden.  I’ll accept donations from parents who can swing it, otherwise it’s on me.”

“On you?  Are you friggin’ crazy?”

“Dad, all the money I made when Holland was on top, is still around.  Thanks to my on-line degree in Finance, I’ve invested my money pretty wisely and made quite a bit…Plus,” I gave a smug shrug. “I was given money from the insurance company on the Somers’ Point house and the property is under contract right now.  My Sparta house is paid for and I have more than enough to retire on.  So, with some of that and any money I make now, since I’m not quitting the tour, or my band, will go toward the camp.” I slowed down and calmed down.  “Aside from the few shows we have this summer, I asked the guys if they minded any future tours be kept to a minimum in the summers.  I’ll be building a studio on site, so Holland can use the camp as well.”  I paused a few seconds, but Auggie just stared at me, saying nothing.

“It makes what I do as a performer and an artist mean something to me now.  Before, it seemed so self-serving, but now…now, I have something greater pulling me forward.  It won’t just be puffery and stardom – it’ll be for the kids.”  I shrugged, having nothing more to say.

Obviously, Auggie was left dumb-struck as well, because he was uncharacteristically silent.  For a moment.  Then his eyebrows shot up.  “Well, kid, I guess I can’t argue with that.”

“What?  Augustus Holland can’t argue with something?  Hell must be freezing over.” My spirit was high.  And it felt good to be happy again.  Truly content and in control of my own life.

It was good.  Better than that.  It was awesome.  I had purpose…and I had Mara.  God blessed me with her. And now I was repaying Him by doing what He intended me to do when He created me.  I was using the musical talent that I was graced with, to teach those who otherwise had no opportunity to learn.

I was still Tagg Holland.  And I was still a Rockstar.  But I was Tagg Holland without all the drama, without all the electrical energy bringing me down.  I was Tagg Holland, unplugged.

THE END

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About the author:

I am first and foremost, a mother of four wonderful children and a wife to a generous and terrific husband.  They hold my heart.

My heart also holds dear, my stepdaughter, son-in-law and grandson, as well as my mom, dad, sister,  four brothers and my grandmother....not to mention so many other family members and friends, both living and deceased, whom I love dearly.

My experiences and journey through life have given me the courage, finally, to write down all the stories that have been taking residence in my mind.  Writing has always been a way for me to escape, but when you are raising four children, there aren't many opportunities for that.  Knowing my passion for writing, my husband and children have decided to share in the household duties to give me that opportunity.

My past experiences in television production/writing, personal training /group fitness instruction, and of course, the trials I had endured before my husband turned my life into a fairy tale,  have all contributed to the stories fabricated in my mind and on paper.  I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I enjoy writing them.

I am currently editing my next two novels, as soon as they are ready for publication, I will list them on my website at
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