You don’t have to go to work
You get to make a difference

You don’t have a job
You’ve been given an opportunity

You don’t pay the bills
You provide for your family

You don’t go through the motions
You learn something new everyday

You don’t smile to be polite
You shine the light and love of Christ

You don’t want that but can’t have it
You could have it, but you don’t want it
because something better is coming along

You don’t survive
You live

The TV ad for the average political campaign usually goes something like this:

"(Insert name) is a flip-flopper. His last term was full of government spending, rising unemployment, and corruption. We just can't have another four years with (insert name)"

This is not a general announcement from the opposing political party. This is a commercial to help “raise support” for their candidate's campaign. Sure, the message is clear: Voters should not vote for the other side. However, this advertisement does little to tell us who we should vote for. In the twenty second clip, we receive no information about the candidate whose campaign this spot is “endorsing”. Never once does it even mention his name, speak to his qualifications, or even show his face.

Too often, politics becomes more about making your opponent look bad than it does about your candidate being or doing good. In the end, America ends up essentially voting for who they believe will be the lesser of two evils. That doesn’t sound like a very hopeful message to send our country.

I don't mean to be unfair to politicians. This type of “attack marketing" is just as common in other industries as well. Pepsi vs. Coke. Mac vs. PC. Taco Bell vs. McDonald’s breakfast. And don’t think that artists have too much principle to engage in such activities. We do it all the time. 

It can be so easy to spend our time fussing over how that person “can't really sing.” “That band is full of posers and sellouts.” “His book is childish.” “Her technique is terrible.” We think busing these attacks, and snuffing out everyone else’s light, that that somehow makes our light shine brighter.

Little do we realize, the whole time we were criticizing and making others look bad, we could have been creating something of actual worth for ourselves, and for those who follow us.

Work brings more value than criticism every time.

Instead of talking about what everyone else does not offer, why not start talking about what you do offer? And better yet, why not start actually offering it?

Here lies the difference between the artist and the bum.

The artist simply brings her work to the table, let's it speak for itself, and watches her platform grow organically.

The bum looks to beat down other's work in the hopes of knocking them off their platform so that he can usurp it. The only problem is, because he spent so much time criticizing and so little time creating, once he has usurped the platform, he has nothing to do with it.

Stop focussing on how others are the worst. Rather, focus on how you can be your best everyday.

"I don't know what's going to come out of my mouth. If I crack in your face, I apologize.”

I was preparing to make my entrance during a matinee performance yesterday when my scene partner leans over and whispers this in my ear. We were about to sing a song together, and apparently she was not feeling completely on her game. 

For those who don't know, "cracking" is something that the voice will sometimes do when a person sings too high or is very tired and fails to reach their desired note. The strain causes their voice to falter, squeak, or “crack," kind of like a teenage boy’s voice as it goes through puberty.

Cracking is not good. In fact, it's considered by many to be the cardinal sin of music theatre. I'd be lying if I didn't say I got a little bit excited at the possibility of such a disaster happening. I would never openly wish for another performer to make a mistake, but after 200 performances, it's kinda nice when things get jazzed up.

Thankfully though, and to my disappointment (just kidding), the song went off without a hitch. No cracks. No squeaks. Not even a note sung under pitch. Everything was totally normal.

I found my fellow cast-mate during intermission. "No cracks," I said.

"Yeah, I'm surprised," she replied, "I guess I'm weakest when I think I'm strong."

Walking away, my writer brain immediately started working through this universal wisdom that she had accidentally poured on me.

She was right. When I'm sick or tired and afraid my voice might crack, it never does. In realizing my weakness and vulnerability, I put in extra effort to use proper technique and guard against things like cracking or singing off pitch. It's when I think I'm in perfect vocal health, and I slip into the place of comfortable complacency that I end up sounding like a pubescent child.

She was right about more than just singing though. Whether she knew it or not, she had just made a wise observation about humanity in general. The moment we think we are invincible is the moment we are most likely to fall.

When we think we can deal with temptation by our own power, we've already lost the battle to sin.

When we think we're talented enough to make that movie all by ourselves, the project has already failed.

When we think our team can't lose, we automatically open the door for the Cinderella team to upset us.

The best creatives, the most winning teams, the strongest people, these are the ones who, no matter how "strong" or "successful" they may feel, refuse to fall into comfortably complacency. These are the ones who guard against cracking.