Staying creative after 40 sometimes takes a reminder from someone who knew you before the business card. A Tuesday, mid October, I was alone in a rental car, Columbus bound. Somewhere in Ohio, between two customer meetings, I realized I was driving through Springfield. That’s my friend Matt’s hometown. Matt is one of my best friends. He was also the singer in Down on Jane back in our heyday of smoky clubs and dive bars, and when we get together a couple times a year as a full band, he’s usually at the helm. So of course I had to call him. I got his voicemail but he called me back when I was in a town called Enon.
A Hometown Tour Over the Phone
“Enon! You’re in friggin’ Enon. Man, I know exactly where you are,” he said.
I made my way back through Springfield, bound for a dinner meeting in Columbus. For the next hour, Matt gave me a guided tour of his hometown over the phone. He shared stories of growing up there, every one funnier than the last. We talked about his old band, Ferguson, and my favorite fictional punk band from Springfield, The Kennedy-Finks, named after neighbors of his because it was too good of a band name to waste. He talked me into stopping at a long-standing, fine, and distinguished local establishment called The Keg ’n’ Cork for Little Kings, a Cincinnati cream ale in tiny green bottles. “Little Green Missiles,” as he called them.
You Can Dress ’Em Up
So there I was in dress pants and a Brooks Brothers shirt, on a professional beer run between meetings. You can dress ’em up, but some things never change.
For an hour it felt like 1994 again. I wasn’t an East Coast sales manager on the road. I was just Rob, laughing with a friend who knew me when all I cared about was a loud amp and a good song.
Known for What You Make
That’s the feeling I miss most: being known for what I make, not what my business card says. Work is built around the young and the bright, the next big thing. In our 40s and 50s, a lot of us start to feel a little invisible, reduced to a title and a to-do list. Matt’s call reminded me that the people who knew us when we were making things are the ones who see us clearly.
Not everyone has a Matt on speed dial. I do, and that one call made my whole week. If you don’t, consider this your invitation.
More Than a Band
Down on Jane started as a band, and it’s still that. But these days it’s also my way of staying creative, learning new things, and sharing what I figure out along the way, whether that’s a guitar tone, a recording trick, or a lesson learned the hard way. I want it to be a community for people in their 40s and 50s who want to do the same. It doesn’t have to be music. Gardening, woodworking, sculpting, writing, painting, whatever pulls at you.
It Doesn’t Have to Be Perfect
Here’s the deal. It doesn’t have to be perfect. It doesn’t have to be finished, polished, or good enough to show anyone. The point is to keep learning, keep growing, and keep your creative side sharp. Share what you’re working on, ask questions, pass along what you’ve learned. Somebody out there is wrestling with the exact thing you are.
No stage, no comeback, no pressure. Just people making things and cheering each other on.
So start here: what are you working on, or what have you been meaning to start? Tell me in the comments. And if you want to keep the conversation going, grab my free Home Studio Checklist and you’ll get every new post in your inbox.