The renowned Genesis lead singer and drummer Phil Collins has enjoyed enormous success in the music business over his illustrious career.
Joining Michael Jackson and Paul McCartney as the only performers with over 100 million records sold through both solo and collaborative projects, he is one of three. Collins was exposed to music at a young age. He was born on January 30, 1951, in London, England, to parents who were artists.
The move that would define his sound came when he was five years old and received a homemade drum kit from his uncle. It included tambourines, triangles, cymbals, and miniature drums.
Key bands like The Shadows led the way as the English beat genre started to take shape. In addition to leading this movement, Collins would frequently perform at get-togethers thrown by his parents’ sailing club.
Collins was first exposed to rock and roll at the age of fourteen, when The Beatles motivated him to buy a record player and Please Please Me. He would put his drums in front of a mirror and turn up the record player’s volume so he wouldn’t have to look at what he was doing.
To learn how to read drum music, which was necessary if one wished to work in an orchestra pit or dance band, he decided to take drum lessons from a teacher. But Collins soon discovered that reading sheet music was not nearly as good as playing spontaneously.
In the 1970s, Collin’s life took an unexpected turn after he came upon an advertisement for Genesis’ drummer. Collins got in touch with them, and they were happy to have him on board, which launched his incredible musical career.
Many of the songs from The Beatles’ five albums went on to become timeless classics that we still love to this day. Due to a dearth of worthy contenders, Collins assumed the role of lead vocalist for the band quite quickly.
He took a while to get used to being a drummer as well as a voice, but he persisted and became one of the greatest musicians of our time.
As a solo artist and a member of the legendary band Genesis, Collins enjoyed enormous success in the music industry. Hits like “I Don’t Care Anymore,” “In The Air Tonight,” and “You Can’t Hurry Love” propelled him to the top of the music business.
After 25 years with Genesis, Collins made the decision to change directions in his career, concentrating on jazz ventures, movie soundtracks, and his solo endeavors. He said he hoped his old comrades would have a successful career, but when 2017 came around, he decided to go back on the road with them for their Last Domino tour.
Sadly, the pandemic forced a postponement of this tour, and shortly before it started, Phil spoke with BBC Breakfast, raising some concerns regarding his health. With Phil on vocals and Nicholas Collins on drums, the band plans to play live again despite this setback.
Nic is a fantastic drummer, but according to Tony Banks, he could add even more intensity to the already strong early Phil Collins tunes.
Speaking on his retirement from drumming, Phil remarked, “I’d like to, but I can scarcely grip a stick with this hand.” Despite the challenges that come with being physically limited, Phil has not allowed them to deter him from pursuing his love of music.
The storyteller, a man our age, spoke with a palpable sense of loss as he outlined his physical struggles. He bemoaned not being able to travel with his kid and hear about his travels.
He wasn’t sure if he wanted to carry on traveling because of his health. His remarks gave off a dejected vibe, as though he had accepted that he could no longer engage in some activities and that they were off-limits to him.
He felt pressured and faced with a difficult decision: stick on his current course or stop his travels. It dawned on him that either way, a physical constraint or a deliberate choice would force him to give up something he valued. He was troubled by this and felt as though he might miss out on a lot of opportunities in life as a result of this sudden change in his circumstances.
Neighbor Refused to Pay My Daughter After a Week of Babysitting – You Won’t Believe How I Got Even
Lucy came home after a long week of babysitting, her face pale and her eyes filled with tears. My heart sank the moment I saw her, as my daughter rarely cried, and when she did, it was never like this—silent sobs, her chest rising with every shaky breath, her body radiating the kind of hurt that makes a mother’s heart ache.
I rushed to her side, placing my hands on her shoulders gently. “Lucy, what happened?” I asked softly, trying to keep my voice steady.
She wiped her tears away but didn’t speak right away. Her hands shook as she fiddled with her sweater, and I could tell something was deeply wrong. After a moment, she finally looked up at me, her voice barely audible.
“Mom, Mrs. Carpenter didn’t pay me for babysitting her kids,” Lucy whispered.
I frowned in confusion. “What? Why not?”
“She said it was a ‘life lesson,’ that I should’ve gotten everything in writing. Then she slammed the door in my face!” Lucy’s voice cracked, and fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. “She said babysitting was hard work, and that was payment enough!”
I could feel my blood starting to boil. Mrs. Carpenter had refused to pay my daughter for babysitting all week, dismissing it as a lesson in responsibility? My fists clenched as I tried to stay calm for Lucy’s sake.
Lucy’s voice trembled as she continued. “Her kids were terrible, Mom. They wouldn’t listen to me, they threw toys at each other, and when I tried to make them do their reading, they said, ‘Mom says we don’t have to.’ I worked so hard all week, and she acted like it didn’t matter.”
“Oh, sweetie,” I whispered, pulling her close. At 15, Lucy was trying so hard to be responsible, and this was her first real job. “How much did she owe you?”
“I babysat for four hours each day for five days… so $220. I was going to use it for an art course I really wanted to take,” she sniffled.
Without hesitation, I reached for my purse and counted out the money. “Here, you earned this.”
Lucy’s eyes widened. “Mom, no. She’s the one who owes me, not you.”
“Don’t worry about it. You worked hard, and you deserve to get paid. I’ll take care of Mrs. Carpenter myself,” I said, hugging her tightly. “I’m going to make sure she understands that cheating you isn’t something she can get away with.”
As Lucy headed to the kitchen for a snack, I began planning. I wasn’t going to let Mrs. Carpenter get away with this. But I knew that confronting her in anger wouldn’t work. I needed a smarter approach—one that would teach Mrs. Carpenter a lesson of her own.
That night, I lay awake thinking about Lucy’s excitement when she first got the babysitting job. She had been so proud, so eager to prove she could handle responsibility. And now, Mrs. Carpenter had robbed her of that joy. I tossed and turned, replaying the events over in my mind. By the time morning came, I had a plan.
At 10 a.m., I knocked on Mrs. Carpenter’s door, forcing a pleasant smile onto my face. She answered, looking surprised to see me.
“Rebecca! What brings you by?” she asked.
“Oh, I just wanted to thank you for the valuable life lesson you gave Lucy,” I said sweetly, watching as confusion flickered across her face. “You know, the one about contracts and trust?”
Mrs. Carpenter’s smile turned smug. “Well, yes. I’m glad you understand. Children need to learn things the hard way sometimes.”
“Oh, absolutely,” I replied, pulling out my phone. “I’ve been telling everyone about it. In fact, I posted about it in our neighborhood group.”
Her smile faltered. “Posted? In the neighborhood group?”
I showed her the post, along with the flood of comments from other parents in the neighborhood. Mrs. Carpenter’s face paled as she read through them.
“Melissa said she’d never trust someone who treats kids like that,” I said. “And Janet from the PTA? She thinks we should bring this up at the next school board meeting. Says it reflects poorly on the community.”
Mrs. Carpenter’s eyes widened in panic. “Rebecca, I didn’t mean for this to go so far—”
Mrs. Carpenter’s confidence crumbled, and she stammered something about a misunderstanding. But I wasn’t interested in her excuses. I gave her a final smile, turned on my heel, and left.
Later that evening, Lucy came rushing through the door, an envelope in hand. “Mom! Mrs. Carpenter paid me! She said there was a misunderstanding about when she was supposed to pay.”
I smiled, pulling her into a hug. “That’s great, sweetie.”
As Lucy headed upstairs, I couldn’t help but feel satisfied. Some people might say I’d been too harsh or petty, but I didn’t care. My daughter had worked hard, and she deserved to know her efforts had value. Sometimes, the best lesson isn’t about taking the high road—it’s about showing your child that no one has the right to take advantage of them.
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