Travel in Peace: The Soundtrack of My Escape

By Rod Harris

This songwriter/musician/producer follows the advice of his psychologist by discovering and then writing the unfiltered lyrics composed by his own life--his family, his choices, and his fear. By asking thought provoking questions and examining the root cause of why our Plan B often becomes our Plan A, Rod begins to balance facing the enemy of fear and finding inner peace. This ultimately fuels an on-going battle of depression that had been hidden to many, Rod shares with the reader the various components that created a musician who has mastered multiple instruments, written numerous songs of different genres for many artists, and has been successful by the world’s standards, yet isolates himself as much as possible. Rod takes a hard look at himself as a man, a Christian, a musician, a songwriter, a husband, and a father. Journey with him as he longs to travel in peace utilizing his spiritual compass.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Mar 4, 2014
• ISBN: 9781619278516

Rod Harris

About the Authors Rod Harris: Rod Harris is a Veteran who served his Country in the U. S. Marine Corp in Vietnam. Semper Fi! He is also a twenty-six year plus Veteran of the Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department. His adventures have turned into the second of the delightful series of Frank-3 Enroute novels written by Rod Harris with Norma Hood. Norma Hood: Norma Hood, a retired business owner and a former New Mexico State Legislator, is the mother of four fantastic and successful children, and the grandmother of a baker’s dozen, plus one great-grand daughter. She is an accomplished writer of poetry and prose. Collaborating on their second novel together and developing a wonderful friendship has been an exciting experience for Norma with Rod Harris.

Book preview

Introduction

Travel (trav’el) 1. to go from one place to another 2. to move, pass, or be transmitted 3. to make a journey over or through.

s) 1. freedom of war 2. an agreement to end war 3. law and order 4. harmony; concord 5. serenity, calm or quiet.

Today I woke up and decided that I will live one more day. This decision comes as a daily task; and most days, I have to weigh the pros and cons, similar to people deciding whether to eat that last piece of cake. Our decisions will eventually affect our lives and those around us either positively or negatively and sometimes both.

It’s not that unusual that today I’m doing something I said I’d never do- -writing a book. Writing a book was something my father always had in mind to do, but not me. Really, I thought I’d just write down some thoughts so I wouldn’t have to deal with costly therapist bills. Plus my health insurance isn’t the best.

Actually, I went to a therapist who suggested that perhaps by going back to my childhood and documenting periods of significance, I may be able to begin the process of healing. This would ultimately assist me in finding the peace for which I’ve been searching.

Before we go any further, I must issue a disclaimer about myself-- I’ve always been the type of person to keep to himself. Complex, impatient, conflicted, opinionated, a worry wart, a flower-power loving, give peace a chance singing/hippie and ocean buff. Selfish, yet full of compassion. My personality is quite unusual. I have many ideas on various subjects, but my ideology is likely not the most popular. For example, when asked about my year of birth or certain other numbers, I always round up or down.

Numbers to me are the enemy and not really of any importance at all, but in my professional/corporate life, numbers continually follow me. This adds to my increased hatred for them. The recurring theme of death on the other hand is something that intrigues me, and I have battled this subject my entire life. Loneliness isn’t all that lonely for me. I welcome solitude. Being alone is when I’m totally at my best. I’m very comfortable; I breathe without thinking, and I can truly escape. In this state, I suppose, I travel in peace.

So who am I? That depends. I’ve been described as a session musician from the Los Angeles area (since a very young age) who migrated to London, England and continued to play with a host of various artists and musicians’ regardless of genres, styles or classifications". One reviewer wrote;

He is the passion of Prince, the class of Sting, the groove of Earth, Wind and Fire, the storytelling of the Beatles, the ever-changing moods of David Bowie and the witness of unwavering faith in Jesus Christ. The walls of musical genres crumble with classic songwriting from this multi-instrumentalist chameleon. I find that quote complimentary and humbling, and a bit true.

As a child I was taught that there are three truths; yours, mine’s, and God’s. So while we’ve all heard the phrase The truth shall set you free, (most people tend to use this phrase out of the biblical context) but, I’ve observe that people always say they want the truth, but honestly, I think we are all afraid of the truth, me included.

1

This Is My Story

I’ll let you in on a little secret, I’ve written so many songs, many we all know and love such as; Rebel Rebel by David Bowie; Be Ever Wonderful & September among many others by Earth, Wind & Fire; The Jam by Graham Central Station; Knocks me off my Feet by Stevie Wonder; Sign O’ The Times among many others by Prince; Clones by Alice Cooper; Live and Let Die by Paul McCartney; Reminiscing by the Little River Band; Who’s Crying Now by Journey; Hold Me Now by The Thompson Twins; Everybody Wants to Rule the World by Tears For Fears; Rebel Yell by Billy Idol; King of Pain among many others by Sting and The Police; It Never Rains in Southern California by Tony Toni Tone’; Cry For You by Jodeci; A Prayer for the Dying by Seal; The Spirit of Radio by Rush and Hot Fun in the Summertime" by Sly and the Family Stone. That is just a small list of songs that cross multiple genres’. As you can see, throughout the years, I have been very busy, and I have been nominated for many Grammy Awards, American Music Awards, BET Awards, Soul Train Awards and World Music Awards, as well as the Juno’s, and I’m not even Canadian.

All of these secret achievements stay in my head, even though in reality, none of them is true. The question is whose reality am I describing? Reality is a tough subject for me. It is not fun and can be quite disturbing. However, I’ll travel to reality for a while, but I must interject that some of the names in this book have been changed. Reality for some, who aren’t ready to embrace such, may be too soon. So I’ll allow them this reprieve, in my story.

I’m the youngest of a large family. (Notice I didn’t let you in on how many siblings I have. Numbers are the enemy, so I won’t give the exact count, but you can do the math if you choose.) I was raised in a Christian home. My father was a minister, and I fought to be the total opposite of him. (I often find myself being the very thing I struggle to avoid.) My mom worked for the government for many years, until she retired. I am extremely close to her. She is a remarkable woman. She has been my best friend.

There are numerous things that can be listed in the actions of all her children, which have been covered under my mother’s unconditional love. I think back to her expression of love and her example of a virtuous woman as mentioned in Proverbs 31. While in my teens, this woman witnessed her youngest child (me) dressing in loud colors, often creating original fashions only a mother could love, including the experimentation of multiple hair styles and colors. This same woman had the pleasure of hearing extremely loud and sometimes vulgar music blasting from the stereo in my room.

During this time, I didn’t really think much about it, but I remember one year asking for a few albums for Christmas, which I received. Although it was always about the music, I don’t think she really paid any attention to those particular album covers. Now as an adult, I can’t believe I actually asked and received those albums that included nudity (Ohio Players and Prince among others). With just these few items mentioned and not to exclude all the loud instruments I was playing around the house. This had to be a truly special woman and any other woman who I chose to be with would have some big shoes to fill. Even with all the love, patience, support, and sacrifices she has given to my siblings and me, there were a few items that left me scratching my head.

Like many, I thought of my parents in a certain light. When I was younger, I thought they could do no wrong. Parenting was a lot different back in the late 60s and early 70s than today. There was no talking back, no disrespect.

I was taught to be mannerable. I even learned how to manage facial expressions, when to look up, and when to look down. My parents would not be disrespected. That was one of the rules.

One day in my youth, I asked my mom if I could do something (I don’t remember exactly what it was). She said no. I thought maybe she didn’t quite understand me, so I clarified myself by changing the verb and tone. I spoke up and told my mom what I would actually be doing. That was a recipe for a quick death, but she had grace and gave me the Mama look. This is the look that speaks volumes and then proceeded to correct my stern announcement. She interrupted with her closing statement, What you’re gonna do is… This is where things got a little sticky.

I decided it was time to present my own little closing statement. (I really should have re-thought that). However, this closing statement didn’t include any words at all, just a sound Hummph. In my youthful and highly disrespectful dialect, this sound meant, No, I’m gonna do what I want.

As a parent, I have always taught and still continually remind my children to observe and always watch their surroundings. But as a young man, I learned this particular lesson first-hand on this day. I must not have been thinking clearly because I failed to notice that during this exchange with my lovely and patient mother, she was in the process of emptying ice from the ice trays in the freezer. It all happened so fast and in a blink of an eye, this case was now closed. How amazing it is to feel hot and cold, soothing coolness and pain all at the same time on the lips. After that sentence was handed down, I was a model inmate.

As wonderful as parents are, sometimes we have to be reminded that our parents are just human beings. My siblings and I indeed had good home training and were taught right from wrong, but there were a few times that I became confused and flustered. I believe it was my older sister and I in the car with my mother driving on the highway. We had just stopped at a drive thru for some food and got back on the highway. As we were finishing our meal on the go, Mom must have forgotten that we were still in the car with her and rolled down her window to throw out her empty glass bottle of soda right on the road. This messed me up. My sister and I both yelled and recapped what she did, informing her that there were cars behind us. We explained that her actions clearly violated a California littering law which carried a fine. My mom acted like she had no idea what we were talking about. Either she was so caught up in her thoughts that she really wasn’t paying attention to what she was doing or this was a daily/normal activity that was simply her little secret. Hmmmm.

My raising was pretty interesting. One would think that it would be super strict in my household because of my father being a minister, but it was not for me at all. The funny thing is I am more strict as a parent than my parents were with me.

Parents- Pastor Willie Hugh and Patricia Ann Harris (Circa 1957)

My parents knew I had a passion for music from the very beginning, so they allowed me to listen to just about anything. I had to be 10 or 11 when I ordered some albums, (yes I did say albums) from Columbia House. The entire shipment that arrived were all KISS albums. My dad knew nothing about KISS, but he got on the phone