A dream is dying ...

A dream is dying &hellip;<br />Many years ago, I recorded my first self-penned tunes &ndash; all three of them &ndash; and I felt I was on my way to somewhere.&nbsp; Quickly, I added two more and thought I had made some substantial inroads to the music publishers of the world.&nbsp; I made a firm and solemn vow to sign my first substantial royalty check over to my dad, &ldquo;the man who brought me up and never let me down,&rdquo; as I told him in a song I wrote for him.&nbsp; He has worked six to seven days a week almost from birth, and he was still roofing earlier this year as he turned 87.&nbsp; In the meantime, I&rsquo;ve managed to register over 300 recordings with BMI without ever placing even one of them with a major label artist.&nbsp; As the clock began ticking more and more loudly for both of us, I put it into a higher gear and tried every avenue available to get a song placed.&nbsp; Just one example &ndash; I probably cover Taxi&rsquo;s payroll with my submissions (I&rsquo;ve had forwards, but no contracts).&nbsp; My seventh solo album is off for mastering, and I have three other albums of my songs out there (done by Kephas, King Arthur, and Bret Alexander).&nbsp; Not one album has reached double digits in sales.<br /><br />A dream is dying &hellip;<br /><br />On Thursday (November 6), my father suffered a stroke that triggered massive bleeding in his brain.&nbsp; He is on life support in a coma, and his chances of surviving lessen with each passing hour.&nbsp; This morning (November 8), my mom suffered a stroke and is in stable but mostly unresponsive condition at a different hospital an hour and a half from my dad in Pennsylvania.<br /><br />A dream is dying &hellip;