Actions Speak Louder Than Words

I promised myself I wouldn’t write much, if anything, about a recent sore spot. But I can’t help myself. With my band, Catdaddy Pirates, just a few weeks away from being ready to gig, our guitar player has quit. I’d like to be able to smile and wish him the best, comfortable that we parted ways amicably. But the truth of the matter is that this was handled badly.
We don’t really know which issue it was that finally pushed our guitar player over the edge. He had so many issues with so many different things that we were never sure what he was tweaked about at any given moment. He was always upset about something, and we seemed to feed his paranoia with every other word that came out of our mouths.
Well, something finally got him. On Sunday of this week he informed us that he had taken another gig and that Catdaddy Pirates would have to go on the back burner. Needless to say, for me and Wolf, our drummer, that was simply unacceptable. I asked him for clarification. He was rather vague, so I wanted to know if he was leaving the band or if he was really expecting us to sit around and wait for him to come noodle around with us at his convenience. He never responded. There have been no e-mails or phone calls. He hasn’t spoken to us at all since making his parting statement.
Like I said, it could, and should, have been handled better. Ideally, it would have been nice if he had practiced good form and spoken to us in person, or at least on the phone, rather than hide behind one e-mail he sent out on Sunday. But that’s his deal, and it’s all on him. He’s made his choices. All we can do at this point is shrug it off and move on. While I’m disappointed at his choices, and especially his handling of his departure, I can’t afford to lose any sleep over it.
You know, as much as I hate to say it, a lot of pressure has just been removed. We’ve been dealing with someone who seems to take every personal sentiment as a direct challenge. If you told him about your favorite guitar, he had to one-up you by talking about the vintage guitar he has, that was apparently better somehow than what you have. If you showed him pictures of your home, he had to show you pictures of his farm, that was, again, apparently much better than what you have. Every single thing you ever mentioned was some kind of inferred challenge which he felt he had to respond to. Every single issue was turned into a pissing contest. I dreaded the notion of working on original songs. I mean, if you can’t mention one of your guitars without him feeling like he had to one-up you, what was it going to be like when you tried to play one of your songs for the band? I knew what it was going to be. “That’s a pretty good song, but listen to this…”
Now we can move on. Hopefully we can get some work done now that we’re not going to be distracted with putting out little fires every other day. I’ll always think fondly of this gentleman, and will gladly acknowledge his skills as a guitarist (we made some great recordings which, quite frankly, I can use to showcase my voice), but I think he’s in for a lot of frustration in his life. As I told someone the other day, I may be opinionated and I may stand my ground, but I’m respectful and considerate of others, and I always try to be all-inclusive. If you can’t get along with me, you’re not likely to get along with anybody.