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The financial abuse talk hits a little close to home. I could fill this thread with stories of my parents. At six years old my mom would dump on me, complaining about all of my family's financial woes (when I had only recently grasped the concept of capitalism). My father once said to me, "budget for entertainment first, and everything else will fall into place". When I got my first job as a paperboy at 10 years old they began borrowing money from me, and it continued through when I had credit cards (it took me a long time to realize how much they were loving my future, and even if they did pay me back I was being raped by interest that they weren't going to pay). But the worst stories come from my parents' plan for retirement, which was their grand agenda for their children's life. My father, who had a brief career as a Christian recording artist, was training his sons to be the next Osmonds or Jackson 5. As soon as my brother and I showed musical talent he wouldn't stop talking about how he couldn't wait until all of us were older and we all could play instruments, so we could start a band. Education was ignored (I technically finished high school, but being home schooled I never actually received a diploma, or started college until last year - it was worse for my brothers, for whom any kind of attempt at education wasn't even executed), big plans were made for when we'd be "the next Beatles", and my parents could finally retire, since they had never put any money away - my mother would be looking at houses on the Sotheby's website that we would buy as soon as we became overnight successes. So, we all got together as a group of "clean cut, all-American young men" who were going to "change the music industry". I was stuck (there was a lot of emotional abuse and conditioning and e/n stuff that doesn't belong here), and my parents were convinced this was God's plan for our family, who all spent every single day together, seeing as how we were all homeschooled and my father worked from home. The best story is also the final one, when I'd finally had enough and told my parents the idea they'd pursued for the past few years was complete and total bullshit. They had taken a $20,000 from a "private investor" (I still don't know how it happened or why anyone would go along with that), and used it to drive across the country to Los Angeles, live in a hotel room for two months, and shop the band around to record labels and industry people, because "they'd put us in front of people, and of course everyone will love you guys when they see you!" I refused to go, and yet they still bought me a plane ticket in hopes that it would change my mind. When they came back empty handed (who didn't see that coming?), they blamed me, saying that because I wasn't there nobody wanted to sign us, and to pay back the loan my father would have to work for the rest of his life, and that I ruined his chance at retirement. So much money has been wasted on this awful pursuit, and yet they're still throwing away any sense of retirement and their children's future to chase after something that's been a money pit for ten years now.
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Jul 17, 2013 01:50
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| # ¿ May 3, 2024 00:51 |
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dreesemonkey posted:Well that's loving cooky/depressing. Sorry you had to go through that. No worries, I can either dwell on the fact that I'm still paying for it (financially and emotionally) years later, or I can just laugh at it, move on, and know that at least I learned exactly what not to do with my life and finances. I choose to find it hilarious, especially these moments: -My father bidding $1500 on an electronic drumset that my brother didn't need. It was listed on eBay, brand new, but had a reserve on it, and I don't know what he was thinking, because bidding went much higher than he was willing to pay with the reserve still on it. Was it spite for the other bidders? Did he just really want the band to have an electronic kit?  -My father also worked out a tour - oh wait, no, it was just one show in a city over 1,000 miles away, in the dead of winter. Most of the family drove, but he flew, because of work or something. We were playing with another band on our record label (yes, we were signed, no, we never saw a dime from them, and did a bunch of stuff for the label for free...), and were supposed to meet with the head of the label, as well as our new booking agent, at the show. The band showed, the other two didn't. We get put on the bill last of three bands, and this group of clean-cut all-American boys had no business playing with two metalcore bands, especially in a town where nobody knows us, so almost the entire crowd left during our first song. The show was at a bowling alley  whose owners refused to pay us.-Unspeakable amounts of money thrown at filming music videos, which were shoddily slapped together by local film students who didn't know what they were doing. -$5000 spent on out-of-pocket recording costs (not including manufacturing of discs, packaging and distribution) for an album that sounded horrendous, mostly because most songs went unrehearsed, and my father overestimating how good we actually were as a band. -Being asked for cash by an "executive" from another label we were on so he could pay for our studio time one night. I guess he underestimated how much it would be, or didn't think it'd take as long, but whatever the reason, my father gave him the cash to pay for something that was wholly the label's responsibility. -My father would do web design, development, and database work for the website of whatever label we happened to be on (we got picked up by a lot of scam labels) for absolutely no pay. His rationale was that then the label would work extra hard at promoting us in return. This never happened.  -And, on top of all of this, there was all the gas to get to shows, eating out once we were there, instrument maintenance expenses, van breakdowns, and other wonderfulness that sucked more money out of my father, just to try and get a big label to come and swoop us up (which, as anyone who knows how record labels operate, would put us in even more debt, which we would have to earn back for the label before we saw any paychecks beyond the initial loan we would be given). We were lucky if we made $50 for a show, and hardly ever sold any merchandise. This right here is the tip of the iceberg. I've been considering making an "Ask Me About Growing Up With Stage Parents" thread in A/T, but didn't know if people would find it funny or it would just make them sad and weep for humanity.
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Jul 17, 2013 16:36
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