Last and Probably Least (It's All In Your Mind)

By Scott Coner

Country Artist

         I was the youngest in our family. I don’t know for sure what that really means to all of you “counseling types” out there. But, I probably wasn’t the one anyone had any money on to do much with his life. I took a friend of mine to dinner the other night that I have known since kindergarten, and he kind of reiterated the fact that nobody expected anything out of me. In truth, I just didn’t have much to work with. And no, I am not being modest at all. I had my share of problems, and I was light headed.

         I remember sitting in class throughout seventh grade begging my mind to stay focused. The teacher would be at the chalkboard doing a fine job of explaining algebra or whatever a pronoun is, but my mind would be somewhere else. I hadn’t lost myself to music yet, so I must have been thinking basketball, or maybe about Michelle P. or Julie W. or whoever else I was tripping on that week. The simple, easy-to-explain fact of the matter is that I simply didn’t know how to control my mind yet. I’m sure nobody had really talked to me about it much. They probably just told me to pay attention and stop being such a screw-up. This problem, this habit, followed me for the next several years. To say that I improved in high school would probably be an exaggeration. I just traded basketball fantasies for music. The girl thoughts never really left the building if you know what I’m saying.

         Looking back now, I can totally see what my problems were. But things were much different back in the '70s, and I think the typical assessment was that people grew out of their stupidity. My parents tried to help me. My mom took me to a math and English tutor. I even went to summer school between seventh and eighth grade. The problem was not a learning disability though. It was something within me. To quote the late Syd Barrett, “I have an oddly shaped head, and you’ll never understand me.”

         My older sister was the one with all of the talent. She sang every Friday night at The Little Nashville Opry near where we lived. She would stand there on stage as a mere teenager and sing to several thousand people to get them engaged for whatever country music superstar would be appearing that night. My sister was pretty. She was popular and smart. She was head of the student council, prom queen, and homecoming queen. She had lots of friends and dated whoever she wanted. Me? Well, I wasn’t any of those things. That’s probably okay though, because I don’t look all that cool in a tiara. 

Country/Americana artist Scott Coner (second from right) celebrates the completion of a Nashville recording session with fellow music industry professionals at Studio 515 in Berry Hill. Joining Coner for the session were (from left) guitarist Mike Waldren, guitarist Jake Widenhofer, keyboardist Dane Bryant, drummer Sean McDonald, engineer/producer Logan Schiegel, engineer Trever Golden, and Lynyrd Skynyrd background vocalist Carol Chase. (Photo by Cynnamae Media Productions)

         I’m telling you all of these embarrassing and belittling facts about myself to get to a point. The point is, I hadn’t really “arrived” yet. But, I was being prepared for my future unknowingly. Like I said, every single Friday night I was being taken to see some of America’s greatest country talent whether I liked it or not. These people were the real deal, too. Not some suburban kid with a cowboy hat infusing rap with country music. I think I saw every single star from that era excluding Willie Nelson, and I’m not sure why he never showed up. All of this music was being poured into my head, and I wasn’t smart enough or wise enough at the time to realize that a transformation was taking place in my soul.

         Something else happened during that season that opened my eyes to a possibility. My mom and my sister had a garage sale, and my sister had a card table set up with a cash box on it to hold their combined fortunes. Near that cash box was a piece of paper with a song on it my sister was working on. I’ll never forget the lyrics:

         “Long, long ago in a town called Tyrone City,

         Lived a man who stood seven feet tall.

         All the people called him “Big Jack” 'cause he was so big and tall.”

         Yeah, I know. You haven’t ever heard that one on a hit parade on American Country Countdown. But I remember it, and that is all that matters. I looked at those lyrics, I heard her singing the melody, and knew almost instantly that I could write a song. I began to slowly think in a new direction. So many things happened after that that pointed me in the direction I’m headed now. I’ve already told you about the summer I was shut in the house with a stack of 45’s and comic books due to bee sting allergies. And I have also told you about the time my friend Jr. Crowder and me went to a high school talent contest, and I heard “Free Bird” for the first time. All of these moments and many others were unique in how they formed me. Music taught me how to concentrate and shut out everything else. It healed me of so much, and it gave me direction. It actually allowed me to visualize who and what I wanted to be.

         So, long story short, my sister ended up quitting the music business. But she did go to college, and she is a writer now. I was never popular in school, never was prom king, or anything remotely like that. But I became a singer-songwriter. I even write a little book from time to time.

         There is a moral to this story, and here it is. I was once as stupid as a stick. I couldn’t think clearly. I couldn’t concentrate. And I think I may have been a little bit mental. I allowed myself to change and morph into what I am today. And today, I am a very happy individual. I cannot complain about much of anything. My ship came in a little later than most, but I think that was for the best as well because I had some transforming to do. Music and God did this for me. I gave my heart to God because of a song being played in church called “God of the Mountain” by The McKameys. I let go of a lot of anger because of music. I even fell in love because of music, but that’s another story. I believe we all have this in us. Maybe music doesn’t reside in everyone’s heart, but something does. We have to reach out to whatever it is and grab hold of it like it’s the only line to survival.

         Look back on your own life and connect the dots. If you look hard enough, I promise you will see the very hand of God as he molded you and prepared you for your own version of greatness. Don’t waste time living in the shadows of your past. The past is past. Today is what we have been given. Look in the mirror and open yourself up to who and what you truly are, not just what you have allowed yourself to become. We only get one pass at this. Make it count.

         Scott Coner is a country singer-songwriter who has worked in the studio with legendary artists such as Tanya Tucker, T. Graham Brown and Charlie Daniels. You can learn more about him and hear his music at www.Facebook.com/ScottConerMusic, www.YouTube.com/user/ScottConer, and www.ScottConer.com. Follow Scott at www.Twitter.com/ScottConer.