Death At The Crossroads

At the intersection of choices and consequences

As I stand at the intersection of choices and consequences, I know a piece of me will die. Changing pain into the fire that fuels change is the choice often presented at a crossroads. An old belief or habit that no longer serves me. A part of a dream or fairytale I thought I wanted. A soulmate love that burns out or the sweet music of a favorite song stops playing.

Vibracious horn blows drift to a dreamy flow from the end of the saxophone, allowing my thoughts to drift. The soft strum of the strings, lined across the guitar’s frets, crosses over to intertwine with the energy within my body. I sit in the trance of the blues music playing on the old phonograph allowing a tear to fall and slowly find its path down my cheek.

Robert Johnson, deemed the master of the blues, especially the delta blues style, made his landmark recordings from 1936 to 1937. He would die one year later at the age of 27. No formal announcements, no cause of death determined; he just faded off into the sunset of his life.

Folklore has it that he sold his soul to the devil one night at the crossroads to become the master of blues music.

Lyrics from Johnson’s song “Crossroad Blues” are simple yet powerful. Consider the words “you can run, you can run, tell my friend Willie Brown, I got the crossroad blues this mornin’ babe, I’m sinking down.” Those words show the depth of desperation felt when life becomes overwhelming.

Johnson was the first member of the “27 Club” — a group of famous musicians, artists, and actors that have died tragically, most commonly due to drugs, suicide, or violence. The legend holds that Robert Johnson died of poisoning from a jealous husband. The top known members of the club are Janis Joplin, Van Morrison, Jimi Hendrix, Kurt Cobain, and Amy Winehouse. Each had their stories of pain and suffering buried beneath their fortune and fame. Per Wikipedia, there are a little over 75 identified members of the club. It is said to be further evidence of the idea of selling their soul for the cost of fame and fortune.

As we walk our path on life’s road, each of us will come to the crossroads of decisions. Choices shape our direction constantly. And all options have a consequence. Contrary to popular belief, consequences can be good too. Haven’t you ever felt you lost who you were? Have you looked in hindsight, thankful for unanswered prayers? When you ask yourself, “Who am I? as you wake up one day, look in the mirror, and see no resemblance to the person you once were, it most often can be traced back to a choice made at the crossroads — at that intersection of Free Will Road and The Hand I Was Dealt Avenue. Depending on which way I turn, I may end up on The Boulevard of Broken Dreams or My Dreams Came True Causeway.

A career choice that is based on money and not your passion. Who you are supposed to become based on others’ opinions. A relationship that takes a piece of your heart and stomps on it or wrings it dry. A decision to follow your heart against all strong advice. Each of these can feel like the death of a piece of you inside. The death of these things is not always wrong or bad. Some choices feed your soul — like a friendship that fills your days with love, laughter, and joy. A career based on happiness and passion. A moment in time where you stop to smell the roses. It all depends on your choice at the pivotal moment of which way to travel from the crossroad.

Blues music is said to be the basis of all genres of music — a universal language. For me, blues music, which expanded into “Motown,” are the two types that grab my body and soul simultaneously. The chords from calm to chaotic stances take over all inhibition and care at the moment. The gentle sway of the shoulders and hips aligns automatically with each beat and vibration that reverberates straight to the heart. The conversation from the guitar, harmonica, saxophone, and the slide needs no words. You get the “feels” all over.

Blues music is a perfect example of choices that die and are reborn again and again. Based on the twelve-bar format of only three chords, each player makes choices about progression and rhythm changes, thereby producing his own unique musical outcome. Some of the greatest guitarists from Eric Clapton, BB King, Jimi Hendrix, and Stevie Ray Vaughn all credited the blues as the foundation to their playing. Bluesmen and women are show people and, to me, the ultimate storytellers. They seem to become one with their guitars. They make incredible music come alive while they sing and dance with their best friend — their guitar.

When BB King died, I cried for days. His final thrill is gone, but his music will live on forever. But my favorite bluesman is Buddy Guy. BB and Buddy were best friends. After BB died in 2015, Buddy Guy dedicated the rest of his life to keeping the blues alive. His choice at the crossroad of losing his best friend still has him touring at the age of eighty-nine. They recorded a song together, “Stay Around a Little Longer,” in 2010. The last part of the song is a conversation between the two, and the last line is, “When I’m pushing up daisies, don’t forget you’re still my buddy!” It places us dead center in the warmth and love of their lifelong friendship.

Maya Angelou said it best: “I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”

Music does that for me. It permits me to feel. The combination of words follows the rhythmic path that says, “Hey, remember this!” It’s not about fame, fortune, or instant gratification that makes life successful. The value in my life stems from the investments I made in people and relationships. I didn’t sell pieces of my soul for the things society sells will make one happy. I found the little things, the little moments, that feed my soul.

Musicians, artists, and actors impact our lives in ways that we sometimes never forget.

I can credit a significant change in my life to hearing the blues music siren song for the first time. It took me to places I only dreamed of, where I met some of the most incredible people who shared common values. Recording companies, like Rhino music, sent me demo releases in exchange for my opinions. VIP became the list I was on at venues. But honestly, it was just icing on the cake. It was always about how the music made me feel. It was like coming home to something I didn’t remember feeling until that first guitar wail shot straight to within my numbed body and heart. The vibrational pull (law of attraction?) is something way beyond comprehension sometimes.

So, the next time you are at a crossroads and have a choice to make, choose the death of something you no longer need, one that leaves a consequence that will last fondly within memories once you are gone. Choose the one that adds value to your soul, not your ego. Choose the one that makes you feel alive and happy within your soul. Don’t sell yourself short.

When we choose happiness that relies on things outside of ourselves, we may be selling a piece of our soul and die with that regret. I doubt many of those members of the “27 Club” were happy at the end — perhaps none of them were, having forgotten what gave them value, purpose and why they started in the first place.

Yes, death at the crossroads is inevitable. You will always have choices. Neither path will be desirable at times, but you will reap the rewards if you choose from your soul rather than ego or status. You may get the blues sometimes, but if you let it sink in, follow its progression and allow the rhythmic changes to guide you forward, you might come out singing and playing this game of life with the best of them.