Tee Ball & Broken Hands
We have a motion on the floor to keep the ball still...
Tee ball is a modified form of baseball for children where instead of the ball being thrown, it sits quietly on a stationary stand waiting to be hit.
As a wee lad of 5 or so, I was a prodigy tee ball player. When it was my turn to go up to bat, I would swing with surprising force - home runs every time. This was talent, not some secret kindergarten doping scandal. When the ball lay patient on the tee, I had a natural knack for whacking the ball very very far. My parents thought I was going to be the next Babe Ruth.
In “real” baseball, when the pitcher throws the ball to the catcher, the batter is tasked with intercepting a moving ball. Once the ball started moving, my dream of a baseball career faded. I could not consistently hit a moving ball with the same thunderous power. When the game shifted towards “real” baseball, my promising tee ball potential was lost to history.
While I was recording my forthcoming album “Cowboy Dream”, my friend Amity gifted me a really beautiful blue road bike (thank you, Amity!). I was so excited to have a bike again, big dreams with less driving around LA.
On my very first ride, I had a horrible accident. On the way to my partner’s house, I was forced onto a sketchy LA sidewalk. The tiny tires of the road bike got stuck in a giant crack that formed over a tree’s roots. I arrived at my partners home, bloody, in incredible pain and couldn’t lift a fork to my mouth.
Though I technically only broke one wrist, the truth was that both of my arms/hands where injured and I was in double arm braces for months. Though not exactly true, it’s so much easier to just say that I got in a bike accident and broke both my wrists - because I had no hands.
I could not drive. I could not play my instruments. I relied on public transportation. I would walk to the grocery store and slowly put groceries into a backpack and walk home. My job at the time was very accommodating to my injury and would let me avoid heavy lifting. While my coworkers built things and taped things, I sat in a dark projection room writing lyrics, humming out song demos on my phone, and descending into a dark night of the soul. When it was time to do my work’s work, I poked my fingers out of my wrist braces at the video switcher to plunk out the venue’s live stream.
While I was at college, one of the university professors started developing a neurological condition that slowly diminished their ability to play. Before this devastating condition, they were an undeniable superstar virtuoso prodigy on their instrument. As their ability to perform on their instrument diminished, they got MEAN. One famous story around campus was that during a private lesson a student vomited in the trash and the professor screamed “PLAY IT AGAIN!”
Musician’s bodies produce sounds that transcend logic and create something transcendent and more powerful and than the most dangerous weapon. When a musician’s whole identity is rooted in the mystical act of producing music, and they lose control of their body, or lose a certain function, what do they have left?
They will likely face a very deep reckoning of their identity.
My bike accident was not my first wrist fracture. I broke my left wrist in preschool and my right wrist in kindergarten. These childhood breaks were technically worse (casts and all), but loosing both hand’s function as an adult was incredibly difficult. Beyond the practical challenges of navigating Los Angeles in double braces, I was also forced to face hands that could no longer play music in the same way. I remember looking down at my hands and weeping, wondering if I would ever play again.
The crazy thing about this bike injury, is that it actually forced my hand (lolz) to finish writing “Cowboy Dream”. The constraints focused my chaotic brain and simplified my options. With nearly nonfunctional hands, I hired friends to play where I couldn’t and would plod through simplified keyboard parts that only required a few fingers. The ball stopped moving and I was able to hit one of those famous tee ball home-runs (in my opinion).
From a dark projection room, running OBS next an old fancy film projector, dancing though a dark night of the soul, the song “Blue Left Hand” was one of the songs I wrote and recorded during this injury. Scheduled to release on May 15, this is the second single from “Cowboy Dream” and is being releasing as a birthday present to myself.
My birthday is the following week on May 19 and the best birthday present you could ever offer is to give “Blue Left Hand” a listen.
The good news is that bodies heal and I did recover! A major support to that recovery was a grant from MusiCares which gave me three months of physical therapy with the incredible Janice Ying at Opus PT. I went to her office every week, was diligent about doing the stretching and strengthening exercises and made a full recovery. These hands are just about as good as they’ve ever been.
I am planning on releasing another Substack piece after “Blue Left Hand” is released that will give a bit more context into the recording process and speak on the song itself, but in the meantime please presave the song and have a wonderful week
Much love to all of you,
Joshua