The Elusive Impossible Dream

The Elusive Impossible Dream

Walmart Break Room

“You don’t look too happy today, Henry. Anything wrong?”

The uncomfortable silence suggested that all was not well in Henry's world at the start of this work day.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m not sure, Kate. Coming into work this morning, it hit me. I guess I want to do more with my life than stocking shelves at Walmart. I feel like a real loser.”

“That’s what I do, Henry.”

“Oh, sorry, Kate. I didn’t mean it that way. I only meant I might be happier doing something else.”

“We make our own happiness, Henry.”

With that, Kate quickly exited the room.

----------

Henry’s Bedroom

What have you done with your life, Henry? Mediocre grades from elementary school through high school. Lackluster performances in all forays into the world of sports. Your car is 14 years old and often doesn’t start in the winter. Living in a spare room in the elderly widow Jenkins’ house, catching a break on rent for shoveling snow and mowing the lawn… and listening to her drone on about her role in her high school play. Most nights you drink beer and eat pizza while watching your favorite teams on TV.

As he lay in bed, it seemed that Peggy Lee was singing just for him- “Is that all there is, my friend… is that all there is”? Sadly, it seemed that yes, that was all there was… up until this moment. Henry decided he would do something with his life.

What can you do, Henry, to stand out from the crowd, to be somebody? Think, Henry, think.

Walmart Breakroom

“You’re going to do what?!”

“I’m going to become a famous musician… maybe throw in a little singing. I hear they make some pretty good money. I mean, just look at Taylor Swift… The Beatles… Justin Fever.”

“It’s Bieber… and you’re nuts.”

----------

Lake Country Music Conservatory

“You want to learn how to play the piano?”

“Yes, I think it would be a nice supplement to my singing career, like Ray Charles and Liberace.”

“Liberace didn’t sing.”

“I bet it would have given his career a boost.”

“He did ok. I have to ask. How old are you?”

“Thirty-five.”

 “Well, I usually work with younger students, but we’ll see what we can do.”

“Do you play another instrument?”

“No.”

“Have you ever taken lessons on any instrument?”

“My parents made me take a saxophone lesson once. I blew my brains out, and I still couldn’t get the damn thing to work. I begged my parents to not make me do it. I think the music teacher also called them and begged them not to make me do it. So, yeah, that was it… one lesson.”

“I see.”

“So I think the piano is a good choice. I could sing while I play. You couldn’t do that with a saxophone.”

“Good point.”

The kindly Miss Brandt shuffled through a stack of music books until she found the appropriate booklet for her oldest beginner student in thirty-five years of instruction- “Teaching Little Fingers to Play.”

“Do you have a piano at home?”

“Why would I have a piano at home if I don’t know how to play the piano? Geez.”

Five minutes into the meeting, the kindly Miss Brandt was already losing patience.

“Another good point. How about one lesson a week? What day and time works for you?”

“One day a week? Oh no, I was thinking every day, maybe even two a day, like they do in football training camp. That’s what we did in high school.”

“How nice.”

The prospect of working with a thirty-five-year-old beginner with attitude was troubling.

“Every day would be a little much. How about twice a week?”

“Four times a week.”

“Three, and that’s my final offer.”

“Fine. Geez, you’d think a music teacher would want to develop talent.”

“Whatever.”

---------

Walmart Break Room

“You are actually paying someone to give you piano lessons?”

“Yes, that is correct. And I think she’s pretty proud of me, you know, the way I sailed through the first book, Teaching Little Fingers to Play.”

“Henry, you know I play the piano. I could teach you.”

“No offense, Kate, but this woman is a professional. I wanted expert, experienced instruction.”

“No offense, Henry, but a gifted monkey could get you through Teaching Little Fingers to Play.”

“That’s not funny, Kate.”

“Sorry. Say, listen, a bunch of us are stopping at Liquid Johnny’s after work tonight. You want to come?”

“No can do. I’ve got to stay home and practice on the piano.”

 “How are you going to practice without a piano?”

“I have a piano. Bought one last week. The Widow Jenkins let me put it in her living room.”

“Oh, my God.”

“Cleanup on aisle five!”

“That’s me. Gotta go.”

----------

Living Room at the Widow Jenkins House

And practice he did, an hour every morning before work and three to four hours every night after work… and of course, on the weekends… the entire weekend. Henry quickly left the rudimentary piano books (Alfred’s Basic Piano Book, Piano for Kids Five and Under, and Keys for the Clueless) in the wake of his feverishly flying fingers. Michael Jordan was good at shooting free throws because he practiced a lot. Henry went from learner to ok to downright pretty good in a matter of months because he practiced and practiced and practiced.

“Henry, you play so beautifully. You know, I think I still have the sheet music from my high school play. Maybe you could play the piano while I do Ado Annie singing ‘I Cain’t Say No’ from Oklahoma. Would you like to do that?”

“Not so much, Widow Jenkins.”

---------

Lake Country Music Conservatory

“Henry, I can hardly believe your progress. You must have a natural gift for playing the piano.”

“Along with thousands of hours of practice.”

“Listen, we’re having our annual recital next month at the Shady Grove Home for Old People. I think you’re ready to perform. Are you interested?”

 Henry’s heart stirred. He would take center stage. The spotlight would be on him. He would only be playing for a handful of people, but even if the audience was on their way out of this world and may not have retained the gift of processing sound, he would be performing and all eyes would be on him. Henry had not felt such excitement since the day Billy Larson bit his teacher in the third grade.

“Yes, Miss Barnes, I’m all in.”

---------

Walmart Break Room

“I don’t believe it. You’re going to be playing the piano for a bunch of old people at Shady Lawn?”

“Yep, Miss Barnes says I’m ready. I’m pretty excited about it, Kate.”

“Well, that’s nice… I guess. What are you going to play?”

“I have lots of options, but I think I’ll go with Remember the Red River Valley.”

“I’m sure everyone will like it. Good for you, Henry. I’m glad you accomplished your goal of learning to play the piano.”

“Not quite. I still have a long way to go. I’ve got my sights set higher than that. Which reminds me, do you know a good vocalist coach?”

“Uh… no.”

“Too bad. I want to be like Elton John or Stevie Wonder. They played and sang. I think that will work to my advantage too.”

“Your advantage to do what?”

“To become rich and famous.”

“I see. Well, it certainly wouldn’t hurt. And I’ve always felt you had a little Stevie Wonder and Elton John in you.”

“I think I’m a pretty good singer, but some professional instruction would probably help.”

“For sure. Listen, Henry, a group of us are going to Lana’s Lanes tonight, you know, for a little bowling and a couple of beers. Why don’t you come?”

“Can’t. I’ve got to focus.”

“Henry, all this business about feeling important. Do you really think that will make you happy?”

“Obviously. Wouldn’t you want to be rich and famous?”

“I don’t know. I never really thought about it.”

----------

Shady Lawn Home for Old People

Henry sat in the hallway outside the dining hall along with the other performers who ranged in age from four to nine. The little girl seated next to him was curious about the adult sitting with those waiting to perform.

“You look a little young to be in a nursing home.”

“Too young? What do you mean?”

“I thought you had to be old to live in a nursing home.”

“I don’t live here. I’m going to be playing the piano for the old people.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No, I’m not kidding. I’m playing ‘Remember the Red River Valley’ on the piano.”

“I’m way past that. You must be a slow learner.”

Henry’s irritation was noticeable.

“Well, good for you. Too bad your mom put you in such an ugly dress.”

Henry’s performance went off without a hitch and was met by polite applause by those in the audience who were still awake.

Marcel’s House of Song and Dance

“You got the money?”

“Yes. You said $100 for the lesson. Is that right?”

“Yep, $100 for a voice lesson and $100 for a dance lesson. I forget. Did you want to learn to sing or dance?”

“Sing.”

“Too bad. We’re running a special this week on dance. Are you sure you don’t want to try our highly successful song and dance class for $150? That’s quite a savings, and you’d learn how to sing and dance.”

“I’ll be playing the piano while I sing. How the heck could I dance while I’m playing the piano?”

“Good point. Let’s get started.”

----------

Walmart

♬ “To dream the impossible dream… to fight the unbeatable foe… ”♫

The melody floating over the shelves that morning puzzled Kate. It was not the usual kind of music played throughout the store, but the voice was pleasant and alluring. Following the melody took Kate to Aisle Seven, pots and pans. Twirling his mop like an orchestra conductor, Henry was putting his vision to song as he cleaned the floor. Patrons gravitated to the source of the tones like ants marching to sugar at a picnic.

♬ “To reach the unreachable star!”♬

Thunderous applause followed by an expression of gratitude in the form of a run on pots and pans.

“Henry, that was ... awesome. I’m sorry I doubted you. That was great.”

“Thanks, Kate.”

----------

Walmart Break Room

“No way.”

“Way.”

“You're going to Cleveland to try out for America's Got Talent?”

“That's right, Kate. I think I'm bound for stardom. I’m going to be the next Sharon Boyle.”

“Susan Boyle.”

“Yes, Susan Boyle. I’m going to be the next Susan Boyle, just like her, rags to riches.”

“This is rags? This is my life, Henry.”

He had done it again, a bit of insensitivity born of ambition.

“Sorry, Kate, I didn’t mean it that way.”

---------

The Chicago Theater - Chicago, Illinois

Susan Boyle, Susan Boyle, Susan Boyle. Henry couldn’t get her story out of his mind. In many ways, her memorable performance was built on low expectations. Her frumpy appearance belied her magnificent voice, and the world was stunned.

Henry adopted the Susan Boyle model. Giggles filled the theater as Henry shuffled to center stage wearing ragged blue jeans, a plaid shirt, and the hunting cap his father gave him on his 12^th birthday. He billed himself as the “Backwoods Crooner”. Heidi Klume and Sofia Vergara looked puzzled, Howie Mandel laughed out loud, and Simon Cowell rolled his eyes.

Henry had researched the AGT format and viewed tapes of many of the shows. He knew sad stories sell.

“Tell us a little about yourself, Backwoods.”

“Well, Howie, my parents were killed in an airplane crash when I was twelve. I was the oldest of nine kids so I pretty well had to take care of all of them. And I had a rare disease as a child that gave me terrible headaches every day and made me walk really slow… and fall over a lot. And I stuttered. So I had a lot of challenges to overcome just to get here.”

Muted groans of compassion from the audience and sympathetic looks from the judges. Heidi wiped away a tear.

“Good for you, Backwoods. Whatever happens on this journey, you are a winner in my book.”

“Thanks, Howie.”

“And what will you be singing for us today?”

“Huntin’, Fishin’ and Lovin’ Every Day” by Luke Bryan, Simon.”

Henry proudly strode to the piano, sat down, played, and sang.

♬ “If I could make a livin’ from walkin’ in the woods,

     You can bet I’d be sittin’ pretty good…” ♬

It was a Susan Boyle moment- stunned looks, dropped jaws, looks of wonder. Finally thunderous applause and a standing ovation. Even the judges lept to their feet. Four ‘Yes’s and Henry was moving on.”

----------

Walmart Break Room

The room erupted in applause when Henry entered, and his fellow employees congratulated him on his AGT success. For the moment he felt like... somebody.

“Henry! That was awesome. I'm so proud of you... Backwoods.”

“Thanks, Kate.”

Would this satisfy Henry's thirst for accomplishment and fame? Unlikely. One taste often wettens the appetite for more.

---------

Living Rooms and Dorms Everywhere

Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder. Simon and Company were shocked each week when ATG fans voted Henry on to the next round. Who really knows why people liked Henry? It seemed unlikely that fans would have been enamored with his marginal abilities on the piano or his very average voice. Perhaps it was his sad story or his outfit, unusual but possessed of a certain charm. The audience may have been drawn to the fierce look of determination before every act or the befuddled expression on his face at the conclusion of every performance. Maybe it was it simply the name Backwoods Crooner that attracted a following. It was probable that the unique combination of all of the above carried him to the finals.

----------

Walmart Break Room

“Are you nervous?”

“A little.”

“Win or lose Henry, you're going to be famous… and probably rich.”

Henry, of course, had already thought of that.

“No kidding. I'm already thinking of ways to spend all that loot. A new car for starters, and of course I’ll be out of the Widow Jenkins’ house.”

“I guess we won't be seeing you around here anymore.”

Henry went silent. He hadn't thought of that. With all the wonderful things awaiting him on the path ahead, he had little time to consider what... and who... would be left behind.

“I... I guess not.”

----------

Radio City Music Hall, New York, NY

The song selection was obvious, and Henry's performance seemed to come from another world. Can sheer emotion and desire overcome mediocre talent and create a beautiful, memorable, and moving performance? Henry played like Eddie Duchin and sang like an angel.

♫ “To dream the impossible dream, to go where the brave dare not go...” ♬

The crowd went nuts, Simon stood in absolute wonder, Heidi and Sofia jumped up on the table, and Howie wept openly. Henry, the shelf-stacking nobody, had just won America’s Got Talent.

----------

The World

A big album contract, filled stadiums, adoring fans, and too much money to count, Henry finally had his taste of the good life. Private jets, limos, the finest hotels, Henry raced from venue to venue around the world to fulfill his contractual obligations. Six months of travel, concerts, after-concerts parties, fending off groupies, and then sitting alone in his room in a swank hotel... watching his favorite teams on TV.

----------

Walmart- Aisle Five

Kate got to work early that morning. The voice floating around the ceiling was a little off-key but bore a certain familiarity.

As she passed Aisle 5, she was stunned to see Henry rearranging towels and washcloths. He was standing next to his mop and bucket.

“Henry! What are you doing here?!”

“I work here. Don't you remember? ‘Cleanup on Aisle 5!’ That's me.”

“Don't be ridiculous. You won America's Got Talent. You're famous... rich and famous. Why on earth would you be working at Walmart?”

“Kate... I don't know. It was a pretty fast... hectic... lifestyle. Racing from one place to another. I didn't have a moment to myself. I was cheered by thousands, Kate, but I didn’t know any of them. They were cheering for a guy who could sing and play a little bit, and who wore a funny cap. It was like they weren't cheering for me... Henry, the guy I've been all my life... maybe the guy I am.”

Kate felt a tear welling up in her eye.

“You know, I like watching sports on TV, eating pizza and drinking beer. My room at the Widow Jenkins place isn't so bad, and I've got a lot of memories with my stupid car. I like where I work, you know, keeping things clean and orderly, helping the customers. And... I like who I work with.”

That little tear was about to make a break for it.

“All that time, I wanted to be somebody. One night sitting alone in my hotel room, it hit me. I already was somebody.”

“Henry, I always thought you were somebody.”

“Kate, it's a little late to ask, and you're probably busy, but I was wondering if you'd be interested in coming over tonight to watch a little TV. I think the Brewers are on tonight. We could order a pizza and...”

“I‘d love to. I'll bring the beer.”

“Really? Great, I'll talk to you about it at break.” 

 As Kate watched Henry slowly push his bucket down the aisle, occasionally stopping to straighten something out on a shelf, that little tear dropped.