The Breakthrough

"Griff, you got talent, am not gonna lie to you. But this....I can't market this." said Vince still trying to find the right words that can communicate both rejection and encouragement.

"I mean you are good, really good, but come one, no one listens to this anymore." he continued

"Look Vince, you are my man. I really need this bro." begged Griff.

"I know man, but Jazz? This is the 21st century man. No one is gonna want to listen to this. Technology has changed music my friend, all you need is some piece of equipment not that sax you keep carrying around." Vince lectured. He had always known Griff to be the most rigid and conservative being on earth. While Griff's strict character has helped him in some areas; it was definitely a setback for him in the music industry. He didn't want to adapt to the "times" as Vince would say.

"You can't tell me there are no old schools who gon' appreciate my work. Come on man, everything ain't pop and hip hop" Griff protested

"There's rap. You tried it?" Vince said casually trying to chip in some humor.

"Can we be serious man" said Griff not buying it.

"Well, I don't know what else to say man. This is bad business. You are my homie alright, but this is the time we got be straight with ourselves" Vince said this time with more seriousness.

"So that's a no?" Griff asked one last time. Vince could only give a nod. He had already gave up trying to persuade Griff to look across different music genres. But this passion for jazz was just madness as far as Vince was concerned. He had even tried convincing him to be a producer, at least there had to be something close to jazz that was still relevant.

"It's alright man. No hard feelings." Griff said. He stood up, gave Vince a smile and walked away. Griff tried to hide the painful feeling of another rejection, but it was quite obvious for all to see. This was like his 36th rejection and he had no place in mind where he could go. Every marketing manager he met concluded his work as a failed project before they even heard it. The word "jazz" on the cover of his record was the stench enough to put off every one of them. It hurt more perhaps because this time, he had hoped his childhood friend Vince, for the sake of old times would help him out. Vince seemed however, unmoved.

Nevertheless, he was still determined to make it through jazz music. "It's destiny!" or at least that's what he thought. He was someone who had great honor for family traditions. His great granddad used to inspire hope to the slaves escaping through via the the underground railroad with his music. Encouraging the minds of the enslaved of the new life in which they had the freedom to pursue their own happiness. Now all he he heard nowadays was guys singing about how many cars and gold chains they had. He never found their life of luxury inspiring. He didn't want that. He wanted his music to communicate to the soul and pass messages that uplift the spirit; just like grandpa who played in the clinics of the wounded soldiers during the great war. His music was more like their second medicine. So often times, he was sponsored by charity organizations and human rights groups to health camps to nurse the souls of the wounded just as the nurse nursed the horrible injuries sustained on the battlefield. The good old man also replicated that in the second war too.

Papa however, was a lot more famous and made lots of money through tours and records. His ballads were the romantic sounds of the 80's. Father cemented himself as a jazz great. 15 Grammys and to name a few were among his outstanding achievements. Griff wanted to inherit all that and not just his father's money which was already running out anyways. Even worse, he hated to be the one to break tradition. But times were changing and he knew it.

However, to Griff jazz was more than just an avenue to make money and fame. It was his gift to the world. Just like his predecessors he had that "vibe". His music was more than sound; it was soul. Even millenials that couldn't make any sense of his music loved it. It didn't stop at the ears only, it touched the heart. It could calm the hottest of tempers, lift the depressed of spirits and at times sober the drunk. He knew he had all what was needed to succeed, all he lacked was exposure. He was known all around the streets of Detroit. He played at subways and Broadways. Those who were patient to listen loved it, but the best they could do was commend him and maybe a few dollars too. Still, Griff remained hopeful.

What he was more concerned about right now was how to break another rejection news to his best friend and music partner Jimmy. Unlike Griff, Jimmy was becoming frustrated and often times pressured by his parents to forsake their failing project. Griff was always his constant source of encouragement. Now here he was Griff, standing right at the front of their home still nursing the wounds of another rejection. He would really love to be the one comforted at this time. Jimmy hates failure so it's gonna be a difficult one.

To his surprise however, Griff met a rather joyful Jimmy.

" You are not gonna believe this dude. We've just got a breakthrough" said an overjoyed Jimmy.

"Alright am all ears man" Griff said enthusiastically

"So while I was at the studio trying some new stuff. I get a call from this guy, Walter Stevenson."

"Whoa, no way man. You mean Stevenson? like the popular movie producer?" Griff interrupted.

"He's the one man. He heard our music while we were performing after the theater on Sunday, says he just concluded a blockbuster movie and will love to have our sounds in it" Jimmy continued.

Griff couldn't believe it. It was not the breakthrough he ever expected, but it was a breakthrough nevertheless. If this movie was blockbuster as Stevenson said, that could be an avenue to a reach a very wide audience.

"Let's celebrate bro" shouted Griff as he headed towards the refrigerator.