Monday, August 29, 2016
Let the Music Seal Your Fate; You Can Run But Life Won’t Wait
0 Thoughts Posted by Punk Rock Dad at 9:49 PM
Listen here or on 'Our Music' gadget on the right of the blog-->
Last month
there were a lot of choices for the monthly pontification about music. A lot of great stuff was released. So it was
a contentious month with not having enough time to listen to everything enough
times to immerse myself in the inner musings of each. But here we are and I
picked one.
And...I
wanted to hate it. I wanted to write a negative review about it. But I
couldn't. Why? Because it’s pretty damn good.
At surface
level, I knew blink-182 was releasing a new album. Then, I found out that
guitarist Tom DeLonge was not returning and was still chasing UFOs with the FBI
and had not made amends with bassist Mark Hoppus. Following that, I discovered that Matt Skiba
from Alkaline Trio was stepping in. I
love Alkaline Trio so one would think this to be badass. To me it meant the
imminent end of a below the radar band I've listed to and enjoyed for a long time.
Also, Skiba is a different musician than DeLonge. Would this just be filler or
would he contribute to the creative process?
So here we
are. And it’s good. “California” by
blink-182 is the group’s first album since the breakup and the first in five years.
Some songs
reflect that nostalgic blink-182 that never took itself too seriously. You know, the one that joked about genitalia
and self-gratification. There are those
types of songs on this record. But more
importantly, there are songs that sound of that ‘vintage’ of blink-182. And for me, the nostalgia was much
needed. It really reminded me of Long
Beach and 4918 E Ferro Street. So many
memories from that chapter of my life.
The ‘official’ beginning of me and my wife and a brand of wheels with my
family name on them being sold at a premium in a white-hot automotive
aftermarket industry are some of the memories coming from the nostalgia. “Bored to Death” sounds so much like “Adam’s
Song” it’s eerie. Same chords? Maybe.
Then, there
are songs on the album which are the maturation of the melodic pop punk moody
nature of Hoppus. These are the real joy
here. As a fellow punk rock father, I
can relate to the growth and age but still rooted in our immaturity and knowing
that the dark thoughts of trials and tribulations are always right around the
corner. “Home is Such a Lonely Place” is
beautiful in its fragility. I never
thought I would write that in a column about blink-182. This is an amazing capture of a fractured
relationship. And in all seriousness, we
can relate to the tone as it’s very close to home.
And then
there’s the homage to the golden state.
“California,” “Los Angeles” and “San Diego” wrap the album in a glossy
tribute to sun and fun.
It took a
few listens for me to really ‘like’ this album.
Some of this is due to the psychological wall I built with the knowledge
that Tom DeLonge wasn’t involved in this.
Maybe I’m a blink purist if there is such a thing. But as I listened to it steady from top to
bottom, it really started to grow on me.
There’s just enough of the vintage blink-182 sound wrapped with songs
with a growing full sound of maturity. I
guess it is the audio equivalent of my last 20 years of growing up. I just wrote ‘growing up’ in a blog. The end must be near. It’s tough to stay youthful after a 20 year
career. Your mindset is in adulthood and you can feel that in the music. The
childish stuff like in the past is now tempered through being a grown up with
kids old enough to get it. But that’s
why I relate to this record. It’s the
same but different much like me.
After
listening to it a bunch, I went out on the wide world of internets and checked
what the consensus was about the album from people in the ‘know.’ It was a mixed bag. Some liked it because it was good to have
them back even though the music and lyrics weren’t challenging. It was a piece of SoCal nostalgia from the
2000s. Then there were others that felt
that the new Drake record was better and there was no need for a retread of a
the cool kids from back in the day turning into sad das, hitting bottom, and
churning out something like the early 2000s.
Them there were the shades in between finding goodness and badness
inside its musical trappings.
“California”
is a good album. Not great. Not bad. Just somewhere in between. It’s kind of like the Goldilocks of blink
albums. Overall, it was better than
expected and is worthy of listening.
Labels: Blink, Monday, music, Punk, Teenage Angst
Thursday, July 28, 2016
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Dear,
Right now I
don’t know where to begin. Introspective
moments come and go. Time continues to
march forward and life happens.
I woke this
morning and while it has always been real and relevant, I found myself loving
you more than ever. Call it the
weather. Call it the day. Call it the month. It’s all of those. But more importantly, it all traces back to
you. In a moment of introspective
inspiration influence by love, our life and its memories we continue to author,
and the sound track of our life, I’m driven to write to you today.
And I can’t
even remember when the last time I took the time to sit and write to you. Sure there’s the Post-It notes I’ve left
around. There’s the ridiculous text
messages you get from me. But when was
the last time I wrote something of meaning of substance? Even birthday cards, mother’s day cards,
anniversary cards and sound the same from me anymore. Remember our vows? Remember the poem about the lion framed in
our bedroom? Remember that long email so
many years ago about what you deserve in a relationship? All of those were so long ago.
Those all
originated from the same root feeling even though we didn’t know it. We were in different emotional spaces for
each of those. Sometimes timing worked
for us. And sometimes it worked against
us. But no matter what stage or
emotional space we were in, my life was leading me to you.
How can I
list all of the waypoints and signs that should have made us recognize it from
the very beginning? I came up from L.A.
to celebrate a wedding in Washington.
What I remember most of that weekend was what your mother said to me as
she leaned in the passenger window of your Jeep. “Take care of my sweet pea.” And without pause, I gave her my
promise. It was never more clear to me
than that one late night at LAX airport just returning from Washington. I hopped in my roommate’s truck after arriving
on a very late flight. I regurgitated
the weekend, the wedding, the people, and the feeling. He challenged me on what I’d do next. And right then I knew I was going to make it
real. I’ve told this story a thousand
times but it never gets old to me. That
moment of clarity. That moment I
knew. That moment I knew it was you.
I can still
remember the proposal and knowing I was all in.
I still am today. I had a plan
but it was tough to pull off a secret on someone who loathes secrets. Calling your brother and father for
permission were all done while you were away.
Purchasing the ring required some lying.
Working late was a trip to Torrance to visit Robbins Brothers. Go figure that karma would come back to bite
me. I nearly lost the ring as we pulled
up to Jennifer Lopez’s restaurant. The
vale opened the car door. The ring fell
out of my pocket onto the ground in the rainy dark parking lot. Being smooth on a date while trying to find
an engagement ring under your car is a challenge. Dinner was loud and imperfect. The proposal on Signal Hill was thwarted due
to rain and fog. I was frustrated and I
have no idea if you ever knew what was happening that night. In the rain, I told you my plan for the
evening had two parts; Dinner was one.
And the other was to ask you to marry me. And like in the movies, there was hugs kisses
and tears. I remember asking if that was
a yes.
We can
reflect that things weren’t always a fairytale.
We’ve dealt with more in our first 18 months than most couples deal with
in a lifetime. When we bought our first
home in Signal Hill, we thought we’d be there for years. We were making it or at least it seemed like
it. Next, we got married and you rescued
a dog and gave it to me on my 30th birthday.
You thought it’d buy you time from having kid. True story but then the bottom of our life
fell out. How do someone deal with grief
and suicidal thoughts as a newlywed? You
never strayed from me when I lost myself in a crumbling mess after he
died. But it got a little tougher on us
when we found out your mom’s illness was cancer. The same woman who made me promise to take
care of you was staring at the reality of never seeing a child from you. We both knew it was time. Life became moment to moment. We found out you were carrying Grom #1 and it
was time to find an exit strategy out of L.A.
I quit my job and moved back to Washington while you stayed behind to
sell the house. pregnant and alone.
Separated after a job change, death, cancer and pregnancy. On paper, people could have counted us
out. Eventually the house sold, you
moved, we found another house. It wasn’t
built yet so we were separated again.
You at your mom’s and me at mine.
Then Grom #1 saved us as we lost your mom.
These scars
are our badges for holding on and making it through.
And here we
are again. Writing the next chapter of
our life. You’re in the hospital tonight
and I’m alone in this house. There’s
never been a hurdle of life which we haven’t been able to overcome
together. You helped me face all the
darkness in me by shining light in the spaces in between. That kept me believing in myself. You gave me hope to keep moving forward even
when issues were dragging me down.
Somehow we
found redemption. We found a love that’s
true.
Yes. We had
to grow up from being partiers and punk rockers to become a mom and dad. Sometimes you can’t avoid being
responsible. But it’s okay to do it with
a beer in your hand and your music loud.
As long as we do it together.
After all, we still know how to throw a party.
Labels: The Promise
Sunday, July 10, 2016
If You Don’t Know What to Make of This, Then We Will Not Relate
0 Thoughts Posted by Punk Rock Dad at 4:10 PMListen here or on 'Our Music' gadget on the right of the blog-->
I’ve been thinking. Some
may think that’s dangerous but I’ve been thinking. Are we at a new normal? Shootings.
Terrorism domestically and abroad.
Murder-suicides. Xenophobia. Isolationism. Geopolitical and religious unrest leading to
violence. Racial tensions. Donald Trump.
Do I need to go on?
Today I don’t want to write about sadness. But unfortunately, I need to touch on it to
take this narrative where I want it to go.
I am saddened by the perceived new normal.
I’ve been thinking that I’m writing too much negativity; Writing
about too much sadness. Yes. I review
music now and then but it seems as if I’ve lost my inspiration. Lost my humor. Lost my enthusiasm. But this isn’t a woe-is-me piece. I’ve been thinking about keeping perspective in
life. I’ve been thinking about being a
parent in this ever changing reality. A
schizophrenic reality. How do I be a
parent, how do I be a dad in this reality, this new normal?
I’ve been thinking.
And with the help of an inspirational acquaintance, I’ve come to a
conclusion:
It’s not going to be easy.
But it’s going to awesome.
My normal doesn’t have to be negative. It can be laced with excitement and
creativity and learning. And I can pass
those experiences on to them. Or…..they
can pass them on to me.
An example of this is their imagination. I’m tough on my family at times. They spend way too much time on screens and
social networks. But one night I was
reminded that imagination is alive and well in my two boys. Three words: Liquid motion toys. You know those desk/office tchotchke items
that have water and colored oil in them.
You watch the oil drip through in some sort of hypnosis while wasting
away your day in a cubicle dreading working for the man. There’s the fancy kind with various shapes,
passages, channels, spinning wheels and colors that look like some sort of trinket
you could buy duty-free from and in-flight magazine on an international
trip. Then there’s the not so fancy kind
that you can find at the dollar store that look like they were slapped together
in a Chinese sweatshop. You know the
kind that you wonder if the seals are going to break and the water-oil mixture
is going to end up on your carpet. Those
are the kind my kids have.
Both have the same toy which is roughly the size of a smart phone. And coincidentally, my kids are dying for a phone which will not happen anytime soon. Enter children’s imagination. In their desperation to be tethered to a cellular network and behave like a grown up, these kids carry these liquid motion toys around pretending that they’re smart phones. These two dingbats walk around the house acting like they’re on some super-secret mission critical important phone call with each other. The funny shit is that you can hear them. Everywhere. The ‘range’ of their phones isn’t that good so they need to be in the same room so they can hear each other. If they’re in different rooms, their volume increases. So much for privacy and security, eh, Hilary Clinton?
But it gets better.
We were sitting in our living room the other night watching the Vanilla
Ice Project and his latest Palm Beach renovation. I was flanked by the kids. One was sitting on the easy chair to my left
and the other was on the couch to my right.
Apparently, these phones are ‘smart’ devices which they can check their
email and update their social network statuses.
Neither of which do these imagineers have in real life. Oh, and these smart devices have games on
them too. Both kids sat there narrating
to each other the level of Minecraft they were on. Things like, “I just mined diamond ore in the
nether” and “Watch out. There’s a zombie
villager in that building” were among the banter back and forth between the two
of them. Eventually, they were playing
on the same level and discussing how one would destroy the other’s creations. It was really no different than back in the
day saying “I just rolled and 8 on my 10-side die” and “That’s plus-8 magic
points now your orc village is burning in flames.”
I looked at them both and then at the ‘phones.’ Yup.
These are STILL liquid motion toys with colored oil. Nothing had magically changed. I’ve been thinking about how lucky I am to
have the fake cell phone imaginative experience with my kids.
I’ve been thinking about some of the simpler times we spend
together.
With summer here, we spend a lot of time in our backyard
drinking, burning things and having fun.
The other night, we were outside on the eve of yet another business
trip. We BBQd some hotdogs to which the
boys devoured with a lack of fight which is pretty rare. After dinner, a PTA mom came over to hang out
with my wife. What this means is wine will
be drank; a lot of it. She has two kids,
one of which who is in Grom #2’s class.
Her youngest one requires a little more support. That night got me thinking about support and
perspective.
To get to the point, Grom #1 and I have been playing
football in the back yard. Running plays
like post and flag patterns and XY fly routes.
As the game wraps up, my wife mentions that her friend’s little guy is enamored
with the game happening around him. She
asked that I sit down and play with him for a bit. I plopped down in the cool damp grass and
‘threw’ the football to him and he handed back.
Then I threw the ball up in the air a caught it. As I did, he laughed and pointed higher. So I threw it higher and higher and he
continued to laugh harder and harder.
The smile on his face was immeasurable.
That got me thinking about the small things we can do to
bring smiles and laughs to our kids no matter how challenging things are. Grom #2 has had special resources during his
development. As a parent, things can be
difficult and you sometimes ask “Why?” I
learned early on there was no way I could fix things for him. But I can set an example of perseverance and
unconditional love and support. Together
we can make it. Anywhere.
Everyone has their struggles. We have our successes and failures, our wins
and losses, our strengths and insecurities and our loves and broken hearts. And eventually, they’ll have all of those too
and we need to be there for them all. Every
moment with my kids is an opportunity to teach them something important about
life, compassion, determination, and perseverance. And every moment with them is an opportunity for
me to learn how to listen to how they feel and what they’re going through no
matter how trivial I may find it. For
them, in that moment, it is everything to share with you.
“And that’s what dads do. They pass the best of themselves
to their kids.” - SG
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