Cantrell: The Middle Years

Brought To You By . . . a Cantrell: The Middle Years, Update-7

“It looks just like we’re really here,” Andrew exclaimed, as the cameras winked on in the undisclosed studio somewhere in the heart of Windenburg. “I can even feel the warmth of Del Sol Valley.” 

Jamison busily shook his head at this twin brother. “Yeah, they’ve had this technology, crude as it was, since the twenty-first century you goof. Where have you been living — under a rock?”
“Is this the program that allows sports fans to feel as if they’re actually at the stadium viewing the game? Look, it’s blowing my hair to the side.”
“In real time. Yes.”

“Come on, everybody,” Erik said, “Let’s take our seats.” Erik led the way to the left and indicated the three oldest kids take the row up front, already set up for them, while he and Kayleigh sat in the row immediately behind them.

“Seats.” Andrew ran his hands over the fabric of the upholstered chairs. “Dad, are these like the ones in the actual PBP Studios Lounge?”
“Yes, Andrew, they are. Eerily so. I do feel as if I’m truly here.”
“Oh, so then, we’re there, but we’re not there.” 
Jamison just put his head in his hands. “If we’re identical twins you simply can’t be this short on intellect. I aced the course on technology. Don’t you even study?”

“Boys, not the time or the place,” Erik cautioned. “Look, there’s tonight’s Host.”
“I like the backdrop, is that the right word, Daddy?” Little Melodie said.
“That is exactly the right word,” Erik said with a smile.
“I wish Harmony could be here,” Melodie sighed. “I miss her.”
“She and Cadence are being cared for while we attend the award show. Can you imagine if Cadence should bless us with one of her blood-curdling shrieks in the middle of the presentations?”
“That would be bad.” Melodie nodded her head.

The Host dressed in a basic black semi-formal short gown moved to take the microphone.  “Good evening, ladies and Gentlemen. Tonight is the first of the Quadrennial Sundays, in which we celebrate the Song of the Year for 2286. Where has the time gone? Seems we just finished 2285.  My name is Giovanna Ziegler and I will be guiding us through tonight’s ceremony. I’d like to pay a special welcome to Erik Cantrell and his family coming to us from an undisclosed location on the other half of the world. Welcome, so good to have you in our midst.” Giovanna put a hand over her heart and did a very slight bow at the waist.

She went on, “As you all know Song of the Year is in honor of artistic achievement, technical proficiency and overall excellence in the recording industry, without regard to sales or chart position . . . So, let’s get on with it, shall we?” At this the audience gave applause.  “Tonight’s contenders are, Tanya Hiparino for her Music In the Wind; Geoffrey Godson for his Night of the Owl; Jackson Tracey for his Out of Tempo; and last, but never least Erik Cantrell for his Life In the Circus.” Melodie twisted around in her seat and in a sotto voce said, “Daddy, that’s you.”

Erik smiled at his daughter while laying his index finger vertically over his lips. “And the winner is . . . Erik Cantrell for his Life In The Circus. Come on up here,” she said, as Erik approached. Through the magic of this program, Erik appeared to the living audience, as well as those watching from their screens at home to take the stage.

“Holy cow,” Andrew exclaimed.  For a moment, the program flickered and nearly went out. Kayleigh leaned over and tapped Andrew’s shoulder. 
“Sh, pay attention and allow your father his moment. Put that thing down,” she said, confiscating the cell phone. She turned it off abruptly. “You’re very lucky your cell signal didn’t interrupt this one or things would go dark on our end. Didn’t you notice the flickering. What am I going to do with you?”

Erik stood still for a moment, eyes wide. “Is this on? Am I still here?”
“You’re good to go, Erik,” came the voice of the technician in his ear.

“Thank you. Let me guess, Andrew and his cell again. This glitchy moment was brought to you by . . . My Heart, if you haven’t yet confiscated it, please do so, now.” Kayleigh held the phone up, waving it at Erik.  “I would like to start by thanking the Intergalactic Academy of Music, aka the Starlight Accolades for considering my work and to the Committee for their votes. This is, indeed, a most prestigious award for which I am honored and humbled to receive. Never gets old, in fact. But such work is seldom a solitary endeavor.”

“It takes an entire crew to put it together. The composer, which is me, the lyricist, which is also me and my entire crew.  Ryan Ricks, my Record Producer who is there to make suggestions on how it could be just a bit better and goes on to demonstrate his meaning. As usual, he’s right, so Ryan I thank you so very much. That rift was just what the piece needed.

“None of this would work without the entire staff of Taygeta Studios who not only listen but hear what I’m trying to do. And I know I’ve said this before. But it still rings true. Sometimes they are truly able to get into my head and heart and extract the sound and feel of the piece. Magic. Toby Gleason, my Recording Engineer, Michael Perry and Richard Foreman who jointly oversee the mixing. I thank you all so very much. They know me, I know them. Together we work well, for which I am eternally grateful. And I told myself I wasn’t going to do this,” Erik said, putting a finger underneath his glasses to wipe away the escaped tear. “I just can’t believe I’m here yet again.”

“To my many fans here and abroad, I wish to thank you for your undying support. You are the very best, for which I am honored to receive your love and admiration. It’s you who keeps me going. To my wife and kids who consider me that ‘man in the corner’, my eternal love and respect.  And now, I must bid you adieu. Good night, All. I have to take these kids back to Home Base and tuck them in for the night.” With that the images of him winked out.

All for now, thanks for reading!