Yes, Change We Must

Waiting for the moment when the moment has been waiting all the time …

It was the early '70s when WMMR disc jockey Ed Sciaky first introduced Delaware Valley radio listeners tuned into 93.3 on the FM dial to the progressive rock sounds of this English band simply known as Yes.

Nearly four decades have passed since I first heard this band’s music, collected their albums and dreamed of one day seeing them play live. So much has changed in my life since those days of teenage innocence. So much continues to change in my life as I now enter my sixth decade on this planet. 

During the summer of 1979, my high school buddies and I celebrated leaving the comfortable surroundings of our hometown of Marlton, as we were headed off to college to begin the next chapters of our lives. The date was Aug. 31, 1979. This girl I was chasing that entire summer stopped by the party. That night, we drank beers sitting on Brian’s mother’s sofa listening to my “Yessongs” album. I was leaving for the University of Delaware after Labor Day, so she wrote her phone number on the paper sleeve of the album jacket. She had plans herself to leave South Jersey and move to Myrtle Beach, SC, with her best friend from high school. We promised to keep in touch as we went our separate ways, not knowing what lay ahead. Thirty-four years later that same album sleeve with her faded phone number hangs framed in the recreation room of the house we share together as husband and wife. 

Admittedly, I am not the best person when it comes to change. Perhaps this reluctance to change has been a by-product of my chosen profession these past 30 years or some hard-wired DNA physiology that was passed down to me from my parents. Either way, I’ve struggled with the concept of change through the years. If you need further proof, just ask my wife and daughter.

However, with their help I’ve slowly begun to accept change as part of the natural growth process. Over the past few years, I’ve begun to explore new opportunities in an attempt to find my own personal happiness. I’ve started to look at life through a different lens, both literally and figuratively. I’ve certainly been influenced by some recent health scares, as well as coming to grips with some choices I’ve made in terms of employment and other areas of my life.

Recent stories of personal struggles told to me by some of my elderly tax clients these past few weeks has also informed my current decision to act sooner than later. I’m finding the more I vocalize my new life direction, the more it forces me to hold myself accountable to these changes as I start to navigate down these foreign and daunting corridors. I’m certainly a work-in-progress at this point, but I’m starting to gain a certain level of confidence in this arena. While these new, and still largely unknown, pathways do not contain any guarantees (nothing in life does), I know change is necessary if I expect to attain true happiness in the long-term, which remains my ultimate goal. Like the improving skier that graduates from the intermediate blue ski trails to the challenging black diamonds—no risk, no reward.

"Reaching for the golden heights without a doubt you're ready for the climb."

Later that fall of '79, Marie (my wife) would visit me at college as we each learned about love to the sounds of "Starship Trooper," "Awaken" and "Wonderous Stories." I was getting an education in the classrooms of academia as well as life. A few years
later, in October 1982, we married as Yes music continued to serve as the soundtrack to our young married lives. In fact, my young bride bought me a brand new tape deck for my grandfather’s former car (1974 Dodge Duster) as a Christmas present in 1983, along with the new Yes cassette tape “90125.” The Yes sound had changed as a new lineup of musicians now comprised the band I loved.

I remember listening to that tape, while traveling to visit my godfather weeks before he passed away. A few months later, Marie and I moved to North Jersey to begin our post-college lives. In the summer of 1984, we saw our first Yes concert in Holmdel. Words could not describe finally getting to see these guys play live after listening to their vinyl spinning on my turntable for what seemed like an eternity.

For many, music is a very personal experience. Personally, Yes music has always been about life affirmation, the ultimate positive vibe disguised as a British rock band. I’m not sure why or how, but the lyrics in harmony with the musical instrumentation speak to me on some unscientific plane. It did as a teenager and still does as a middle-aged adult. In fact, my daughter suggested I get the band’s logo as a tattoo during our recent California family vacation, due to my fondness for the band, along with my positive attitude and carefree “let’s enjoy this ride” approach to life.   

Why is it that so often others can see in you characteristics you yourself cannot? Maybe the time has come for a brief refresher to remind myself that anything I can dream, I can make a reality. Even if that vision must overcome the fear of change as well as any preconceived ideas of “this isn’t how I thought it would all work out” when I was in my 30s. 

In 1987, Yes music filled our apartment as we listened to the newly released “Big Generator” album. In 1991, Marie and I saw the Union Tour at the Spectrum, which included eight past and present members of the band. I remember listening to an amazing version of “Awaken” that night, which remains one of our favorite songs.

Lauren, my daughter, was born in 1992 and we took our first family vacation to the Outer Banks, NC, with “Heart of the Sunrise” providing the soundtrack to that great summer road trip. In 1994, we listened to the “Talk” CD and saw the band once again when they stopped by Philly. During the summer of 1998, Marie and I were 12 rows back at the E-Center for a night of “Wonderous Stories." 

In the new millennium, our family traveled to Sedona, AZ. I had just purchased the “Keys to Ascension” CD package. I listened religiously to “Mind Drive,” “Foot Prints” and “Children of Light” as we hiked daily in Red Rock Country. Later that week, the three of us traveled to the Grand Canyon and Monument Valley with Yes music providing a surreal musical soundtrack set against a real-life (Roger Dean) type of backdrop, which included some of the most amazing displays of breathtaking natural scenery we had ever witnessed.

Tonight, my musical journey with Yes finally came full circle. With my daughter by my side, we completed my personal rock and roll trilogy of sorts. It all started with me and Marie taking Lauren to see the Key West Pirate (Jimmy Buffett) for her very first concert at the age of four. It continued with the two of us seeing the Freehold New Jersey Street Poet (Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band) twice in the past four years, including last year’s show at Citizen’s Bank Park on Labor Day weekend for my 50th birthday. My three-song life-inspired mixtape of “Margaritaville,” “Born to Run” and “Roundabout” is now complete.

Looking back, Marie and I survived against long odds, despite the challenges of marrying young in our early 20s, moving to North Jersey to start our professional careers and lives, along with all the other ups and downs which come part and parcel with 30 years of married life. It is now time for me to channel that youthful spirit of adventure I once had back-in-the-day, as I set off down an unknown passageway to follow my bliss.   

You've got to let it go. You've got to let yourself believe in all that can be ...

There’s a time and time is now. There’s a word and the word is Yes.

Bring on the next phase of my life. I got this!

Scott & Lauren

(Lyrics from The Yes Album, Close to the Edge and Going for the One)