Thursday, August 20, 2009
Somewhere There’s a Star That’s Shining So Bright That I Can See Your Smile
Posted by Punk Rock Dad at 11:47 AMDISCLAIMER: I wasn’t ready to add another entry today, but sometimes you don’t have control over the path in front of you. So I am writing on the tails of the last entry.
Intensely emotional moments happen to you at the most inconvenient yet poignant times through out your life. I consider them waypoints of growth and realization. I’ve been beginning the story board on Son #2’s 1st birthday music video. As I was looking for the appropriate music to tell the story I wanted to tell, I created a spreadsheet categorizing songs, artists, emotions, genres, and etc. that would aid the creative process and help me converge on a solution. During the research, I stumbled across an irregularly insignificant song only to be rediscovered today.
The interesting point is this: I downloaded the song well over a month ago, listened to it, and thought ‘yup, that’s a pretty good song.’ But it didn’t resonate with me. Partially because I was consumed in other projects and because you have to ‘be there’ at that moment to get it. This was just passing research to stay proactive on a project that I would normally wait until the last minute to start. So fast forward to today: I am at work, in my office, working for the Man, and trying to find new ways to get the mundane work day to pass with greater speed so I can get home to start packing for our vacation (or at least have a beer). As usual, my MP3 player is belting out the regularly scheduled music. Punk. Until that one moment.
That song came on that I initially dismissed and forgot. It was that song from a month ago. It’s not a Grammy winner, introspective, or even musically challenging. As the earphones were stuck in my ears, I turned the volume up, and was drenched in the music and the lyrics. The corporate world faded out of view for that almost four minute song. There was nothing but the message at that point. Love.
I need to find composure and strength as I write this because I’m sitting in my office literally balling over this song. I encourage all of you to listen and reflect on your lost loved ones. While I am a father and have not lost my own, I'm very fortunate to still have my hero in my life. But this song is dedicated to any father out there. Whether you have lost your own or look at your children as the next wave after you leave this Earth. Even more importantly, I really believe that anyone out there who has ever lost a piece of their heart when a loved one left suddenly will truly relate and connect with this song. It's the emotional shockwave that rocks the essence of your core.
I don’t care if you don’t like rock music, listen to the first track of this playlist here at the highest volume possible and tell your family you fucking love them before they are gone and you can’t say goodbye.
That’s all I have to say today. An intense emotional moment at an inappropriate time. It’s strangely inconvenient to cry in the office at a Fortune 500 company. Oh well. To my brother and my father, just like the song says, “I hope you always know the car that we built will always roll.”
In more ways than one.....
Byron