over & out

this post is dedicated to my father.  happy 10-4, good buddy.

my dad is a retired truck driver.  my grandpa had a trucking business.  his sons (and my dad, on occasion) drove for him. my dad's brother was a trucker.  a bunch of my uncles and cousins and what-have-you from my mom's side of the tree are truckers.  most of my dad's friends are truckers, and he would often refer to them by their cb handle instead of their real names.  one of the most vivid memories i have from my youth was of a time when i climbed in the sleeper of my grandpa's truck, found a bag of those bite size milky way bars, ate the entire bag, and got a crazy case of the hershey squirts.

the routine for our family table was to try everything put in front of you, thank mom for cooking, and shush when the weather comes on the tv news.  my seat was situated so, when i looked over at the tube, i was leading with my right eye. (i've got this weird lazy eye thing, and the optometrist - jr robinson's dad - told my folks this would strengthen it.)  i would frequently hop to my feet and theatrically reenact what went down at school that day.  my sister & mom watched, not amused.  my dad, decked out in his ups browns, would give me the wtf look while i got wrapped up in my own dramatics.

the logical career path for me would have been to go into trucking.  nobody had earned an undergad degree in my family. the trucking business had provided a roof over our heads and food in our bellies, for all of our family members.  i couldn't see myself doing that.  i wanted to figure out what all of the notes and colors swimming inside of my head meant. i knew the performing arts was probably the way to go, but it was a sharp left turn away from what i had always known.

my folks were actually supportive of these pursuits.  i'm not sure they ever fully understand/stood what the sacrifice is like or why & how i do what i do, but that's ok.  that's for me to figure out, right?  i think that, ultimately, they just wanted me to live a happy life (and not mooch off of them).

i share the same philosophy when it comes to my kids.  we've never pounded the music thing into their heads.  they go to a bunch of concerts, observe us practicing and studying, and listen to their own music.  they have quit grumbling about listening to marina piccinini or snarky puppy, and have learned good concert etiquette (which is a life skill that will pay off in more ways than one).  but their not into music as a passionate pursuit, and that's cool with me.  i just want them to get fired up about something, find a partner in crime who can get with that, and make their way in the world.  and don't mooch off of us.  we're musicians ... remember?