If this spare, 35-year-old man with the shaved head dreamed big, he did it patiently and realistically. For Shupe, dreaming big meant being able to play music for a living, period. To do that, Shupe lived frugally, driving a VW bug so long that it went through two engines, and subsisted on a steady diet of Taco Bell. For years, he and his band drove to their gigs in a van with a trailer in tow to hold their equipment. On tour, they stayed with acquaintances or sometimes slept in the van.

To remain in the music biz, Shupe mowed lawns, taught music and snowboard lessons, maxed out his credit cards and hired himself out as a studio musician for other bands, commercial jingles and videogame and movie soundtracks ("Work and the Glory," "Xena Warrior Princess," a CBS TV series whose name he can't even remember).

These days he lives in a modest house in Provo with his wife and baby and hasn't made much use of that public relations degree he took from Weber State. The big money hasn't rolled in yet, but he's still playing his fiddle for a living.

"It's a feat to play music and make that your livelihood," he says. "Hitting the big time is more similar to winning the lottery than not. It's like gambling. There just aren't many Garth Brooks. We've been really blessed to have enough success to continue."

Shupe has done it on his own terms, despite his eagerness to stay in the business. He actually turned down a contract offer from a record company a few years ago because he wanted to retain creative control, which went squarely against the wishes of his band at the time and led to a split. Besides taking a two-year break from music to serve a mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, Shupe and his band also have set limits on how often, when and where they will perform.

"We spent years just performing around here and regionally," says Shupe. "We know what goes into putting on a show and going to a city to get people to come out to a show. It made us more mature. We went into this deal with pretty realistic expectations and also knowing what we would and wouldn't do. How many days we are willing to perform and travel. What's worth it to us. What kind of venues we want to play in. It's not worth it to us if we have to play on Sundays and play in clubs all the time. You have to set those boundaries."