Tag: blog

witnessing growth

So I don’t talk about it much without being intentionally vague… BUT… I have this kid, and in her 16 years on this planet – an occasion celebrated somewhat recently – she’s done all kinds of growing up and maturing. She’s done things or the smart variety and of the dumb variety and has learned from both. Her unique worldview is something that both inspires me and causes me to stop and think, and she’s masterfully funny – the kind of funny that people are when they’ve had real life experience.

Not only has she already accomplished things I may never accomplish, and lived experiences I may never live, but she has dreams and aspirations of being something important and moving away from her hometown to see what the world has to offer her and although I’m in now hurry to shoo her out the door, I am genuinely stoked.

In the grand scheme of things, although she’s several years away form completely cutting off her dependence on me and her mother, she’s mere inches from (legal) adulthood. Other parents I talk to seem to be genuinely worried about this time for their kids – and while in a financial sense I wonder how she’s going to do what needs to get done with late-stage capitalism casting a dark shadow on all of us, I am; again, genuinely stoked.

Her small army of parents have taught her how to think analytically, and aside from the tangible actions of parenting: scraped knees, dental appointments, food & shelter, et al. – that’s the gig. Nobody’s throwing us a parade, and I know the job is far from over but while I talk to so many parents who are worried about their children growing up, all the while, longing for the bygone days of excited christmas mornings and saturday morning cartoons, I have to say I loved those days, but I don’t really miss them… because looking at the road ahead, I am; again, genuinely stoked.

I loved having a little girl at every phase of life, and as this father/daughter relationship continues to grow, I can say I love this phase that we’re in right now more and more all the time.

I am: again, genuinely stoked.

flexibility

We all have these idyllic scenarios we run in our heads – at least I hope we do, or I am a weirdo – where we know just the right thing to say, or we have the answer to the problem that no one else sees, and we are proud… heroic, even. We rehearse what we’re going to say and we anticipate what the other person’s response will be, and it all goes so smoothly… and we win.

We do this in spite of the fact that it’s never actually gone the way we wanted it to, and ultimately nobody wins. We change nobody’s mind, and nobody changes our mind. We alienate people and risk coming across as assholes despite our best efforts to outwit the other person in the impending confrontation. Not only does our proposed scenario that we’ve rehearsed to death not play out as we thought it would, but the scenario has an ending, and real life has aftermath. For a real trip, try and have this confrontational visit with someone who’s completely fried their brain on designer chemicals and has little-to-no control over their emotions. It’s entitlement en masse, with a heavy dose of rage, and a penchant for blaming everyone around you for things you’ve done.

Perhaps maturity is realizing this in advance, or at least realizing it in the moment and showing some compassion.

The difference between schooling someone in a confrontational conversation, and being of service to their needs comes down to intention. Basically, do you want to wag your finger or do you want to help?

Me? I want to do neither… which is why being of service is such a massive personal sacrifice, and ultimately, why I keep droning on about it time after time.

This manifested itself in my life recently as looking after my niece in the event that her unhinged parent decided to cause a massive scene at my mother’s house. We deemed it best if my niece wasn’t there for that. Personally, I don’t think my mother should have been there for it either, but living in fear isn’t a thing we like to do, and my house is small.

The last thing I wanted to do was entertain a 10 year old. My entertaining-10-year-olds days are over, in my mind, but it was a need – not a want, and it was an act of service I was able to offer, regardless of the fact that I didn’t want to get in the middle of things any more than I already have in recent weeks.

But this wasn’t about me.
And it sure as shit wasn’t about my quiet evening at home, or the shitty sleep I got as a result of doing it.
But it was hard to let go of my quiet evening and my good night’s sleep.
It was hard to switch my brain back into 10-year-old mode.
It was hard not to step into the situation, lay out the facts as I saw them, and shut the bullshit down as I saw fit.
But I did those hard things.

I served.

tribute

It’s funny where life takes you.

I love 50’s style rock & roll – the style, the history, the under-credited performers and songwriters, the innovation, the sound… I love where it came from, how it got there, and where it went. I love that it was a rebellious response to the way things were… I love hot rods and upright bass… all of it.

That said, I’ve never really been a purist. I think I’m more the type to try and take it where it’s going, rather than to put it back where it’s already been… which is how I write songs, build my car, and ultimately live. It’s also what the vision for The Confusionaires is – completely unbridled vintage-inspired hillbilly rock & roll.

So, in a twist of fate, I’ve found myself playing in not just one, but three different tribute bands. I play guitar for Robin Kelly’s Long Live The King show, which is a tribute to Elvis Presley, I’ve recently taken on some guitar work in David James’ Johnny Cash tribute (and he also does a Waylon Jennings tribute that I’m excited to play with), and I’ve been doing my own Buddy Holly tribute.

I take these tributes pretty seriously, though I’m never expected to play everything perfectly note-for-note what’s on the album, I want to give a good show and be respectful to the craft, and it’s not lost on me that I am playing peoples’ favorite songs when I’m doing this. So – it’s not natural for me to do these. It becomes natural with time, because I am a professional, and these artists are historically significant and have thereby influenced my musical trajectory. So these things take up a lot of mental space as they approach – Especially the Buddy Holly – because that’s me playing the way Buddy played and trying not to fuck up the words – and even tell some stories.

And so, I think the Buddy Holly show will be seeing some changes. I aim to build a new show that is a bit more Confusionaires-centric, but also pays tribute to the great artists that paved the road we do burn-outs on every time we set up & play. I’m optimistic it will take some of the pressure off of ‘doing it the right way’ and open things up, so we can put on proper display the wildness that these primitive rock & rollers put forward in their day… because they weren’t trying to do anything the way other people were doing it.

For what The Confusionaires do – I think that’s the right direction… so although I am totally happy to play Johnny, Waylon, and Elvis tunes on my guitar the way they were meant to be heard, I think the gospel I need to spread is more about rock & roll in all of it’s glory, rather than just one small section.

Anyway… that’s what I’m thinking about right now.

deserving

To feel like you deserve something can be a bit… funny. For me, anyway. For you; maybe it’s easy, but as someone who can’t help himself when it comes to the etymology and history, and who tries in ernest to be grateful for all things, and who fully acknowledges that all success is a gift from God (or Krishna, as it was explained to me, but that’s another tangent), it feels funny to look around my house that I will eventually own outright from the bank, chock full of wonderful musical instruments, vintage automobile parts, and among other things, the beautiful people I get to live out my days with and think “I deserve more.”

As I write this; we, as a family, are discussing an upcoming vacation. It won’t be a lengthy one but it will cost some money that we’ve saved for this precise application. After months of scrupulous saving, it’s suddenly time to ‘flip the switch’ and become decidedly un-precious about the fruits of our labour.

We are reserving hotel rooms, and buying plane tickets, and have already purchased concert tickets – the impetus of our journey. It’s taken a bit of time to change gears from the saving mentality to the spending mentality, and the word that brings us all into this place of feeling abundant is ‘deserving.’ As in “We deserve this.”

‘Deserving’ shares a root word with a superfluous dish that often follows dinner. An unnecessary indulgence, but an indulgence nonetheless. According to Krishna (and most other deities, I’m sure), we ‘deserve’ precisely fuck-all, and it is through the grace of God that we are permitted these indulgences. So it is not because we are ‘deserving’ of this vacation hat we are allowing ourselves to go, but by grace and grace alone.

It would do me – and probably you – well to remember these things in all that we do.

So I’ll try to seek joy in all things, because joy is like beauty in that it fades with time, especially if you are not choosing to find it where you are looking. We tip the people who are tasked with serving us in the hotels and restaurants we patronize, not only on this trip but in all our travels… this is how we tell people they are doing great work. But are we truly thankful for their efforts? Or do we feel we deserve them? As if we are ‘owed’ somehow…

As someone who is fairly tight-lipped in social settings, I’ll do my best to reach out and let people know they are appreciated.

It will mean more when my heart is in it.

parting

A couple weeks back I vague-posted about someone in my family making a lifestyle change. It’s still underway, and although I realize the help I offered and delivered on was sweeping an aggressive, it was only the beginning… and as much as I’d love to get into detail about the situation, it’s not prudent at this time, so forgive me if I keep it somewhat vague.

I will say that it involved a family-sourced ‘cleaning day’ and the rental of a very large garbage bin, and what I didn’t really realize until the 11th hour is that the majority of what was going into that garbage bin ‘belonged’ to a different family member, who despite knowing all about this cleaning day, was unavailable.

I understand now that my true act of service that I was performing, was being the scapegoat for everything that WE did that day. In spite of the fact that we kept everything of value, and only threw away (actual) garbage, I have brought down hellfire upon myself, and have been accused of all kinds of heinous things, none of which are true – and have even been formally threatened.

Now, I didn’t feel threatened, so I don’t believe I’m in any real danger, nor do I think that the person who uttered the (actual) threat has the means to do anything retaliatory, but a threat was uttered and that’s an actual crime, as opposed to what I’ve done – which is not a crime.

I’ve put a lot of work into myself, and I do a lot to let myself off the hook for things I can’t control, and stay out of situations that don’t concern me directly, so it’s been a bit jarring to realize that this situation does concern me directly and that as much as I want to assume the lotus position and breathe through this – I also have a duty to my household and my family to protect them and provide an example of how to behave in these uncommon situations.

So, I wrote a letter.
It took me three days to write it and calm myself.
Three days to remove myself from the situation, breathe, vent, breathe some more… I ran 22 kms and rode my bike 18 kms… and when I finally got to a point where I’d sweated out my last bit of discomfort with this whole situation, I still felt like the letter needed to be sent.
And I sent it.

It was devoid of any personal insults toward my family member, but it did outline why and how the original event needed to happen, and listed some very serious concerns for this person’s well-being regarding who the very destructive partner they’re with and the lifestyle they’re adopting… and ultimately – and this has been a point of contention – my resistance to apologizing for doing what I did, because in my heart I know that I was asked to do this out of desperation and I know for a fact that if I could go back in time and change the way this was handled, I would do it exactly the same way.

Then I hit the ‘block’ button, as I truly believe I said what was important.

So it’s been really fucking hard, but I’ve removed a family member from my life.

And for the last 3 days since that’s happened… I’ve been completely drained.

discomfort

I don’t know if it’s been a particularly trying time, or if it’s been business as usual and I’m dwelling on things that need not have that level of attention. As I take a step back, it’s business as usual, but what’s unique to this time is the vehicular challenges I’ve been facing.

My faithful Ford Ranger (read: capital R, lower-case ‘anger’) pickup truck died on me a few weeks ago, and through some combination of stubborness and mental and emotional fortitude, I have still not sought the help of any professionals in this field. It’s a problem I want to solve on my own, and I have the skills to do it, but what I lack is the time… so as my neighbors quietly judge me (maybe), I continue to try things, test things, replace things, and audibly swear. For those who care, there’s no spark, and I’m close to having tested and/or replaced the entire ignition system, so I must be close.

The insult that’s been added to that injury is that someone thought it might be a good idea to drill a hole in my gas tank and steal the ingredients. They likely made off with about $20 of my full tank, allowing an additional $75 worth to drain into a nearby manhole, and if my impending gas tank patch job doesn’t work, a $1000 part to order and install. I’d rather they’d have taken my catalytic converter, as is the Edmonton tradition. That’s a problem I can solve on my own.

So in the meantime, I’ve been driving my 1962 Ford Fairlane 500. An absolute gem of a car that I love dearly, but it is a project car, and it’s age is showing in some regards so I’d rather not be leaning on it as hard as I have been lately. It’s my love for that car that has taken time away from fixing my truck.

The icing on the cake is that my mountain bike also needs parts… it’s functional, and a lot of fun to ride, so not really a concern… but still, literally every vehicle I own is in a state of disrepair.

The lesson here is probably patience. Most lessons tend to have patience as; at very least, and undertone. Really, I’m finding that I am too busy and my life is too full to really take the time required to solve required problems. This is something I aim to remedy. My girlfriend and I are making a conscious effort to stop & smell the roses, and really enjoy the summer while it’s here. I’ve certainly earned a lovely tan while running in the early morning sun and working on my old-ass house, my old-ass car, and my truck that is getting older & older-ass as we go, here.

At any rate, if all goes well, I’ll be driving my choice of selections from this small fleet of vehicles by the time this blog entry gets posted. In the midst of it all, I still managed to write an absolute banger of a honky-tonk rock & roll song called ‘one problem at a time‘ which maybe you’ll get to hear sometime next year.

Until next time…

service and change

I; or rather, we, have recently been invited to help a family member take on a rather lofty challenge. A change in lifestyle, if I may be so vague – and as someone who has undergone a few changes in lifestyle over the years I can say with great certainty that there is always a blast-radius, and that there are ALWAYS people in the blast-radius.

Those people are often bewildered at the notion that someone might want to improve their situation and they almost always take it personally. This is because change is happening to them, even though it’s peripherally, they really don’t have a choice in the matter any more than the drinking buddies of an alcoholic in recovery would have a say in his or her recovery – though their social dynamic is changing.

These folks in the blast-radius are; in my experience, almost always operating at a lower vibration. Without putting too fine a point on it, they are the crabs in the bucket who are trying to pull someone down in order to keep that person at their level. I’ve been at the lower level, and I know what it looks and feels like. I even tried to pull people down, until one day I decided to escape the bucket myself.

So… I; or rather, we, have been called to service – and you’d be hard-pressed to find an ideology that doesn’t support the notion of helping when called.
And… straight-up: helping suuuucks. It’s ultimately thankless, hard work on the part of all supporters, with none of the glory or accolades when it goes well… so if that’s why anyone’s helping, they’re more than likely standing in the way of progress, whether they’re cheerleading or not.

This situation is no different. There are bewildered people in the blast-radius of this scene, and as hurt as they might be, I have to declare aloud that my act of service is not to them. Furthermore, I cannot take on their hurt feelings as my own. Those feelings are theirs to reckon with… and if I sugar-coat things for them, or try and soften the blow, then I do a disservice to the person who’s actually asked for help. As the old non-vegan 😦 saying goes… “If you want to make an omelet, you’ve got to crack a couple eggs.”

Did I mention this suuuucks?

Without divulging too much, I’ll also state that the folks in the blast-radius have been taking advantage of the person who’s asked for help – and I’m related to all of these people – BUT, that doesn’t change the dynamic.

You might get asked for help.
People on the periphery might get upset about it.
You cannot let them distract your from your purpose – which; in that moment, is to fulfil an act of service.

For me; or rather, us, it’s a scene that will play out over a long period of time, so I expect I’ll get more than one blog post out of it, too.