Tuesday, May 2, 2006

If I could teach the world to sing...

On the way home from work the other day, a War song came on the radio, and it was like one of those nerdy sci-fi movie scenes where the character is sucked into a vortex and transplanted somewhere else. Luckily, in my case it wasn’t a far away land with 3 headed monsters or some shit, it was on a boat with my mom, dad, and sister.

Up until recently I always thought that music played a huge part in everyone’s life but it’s just not the case. Especially, with Adam. I guess it has to do so much with how you grew up.

My parents always had music playing. I can remember this one stint my dad went through when he decided he was going to be the next great saxophone player, and he got this complete Beatle’s songbook. I can remember being like 7 and thinking that “She Came In Through The Bathroom Window” was like the greatest thing ever written. What literary genius!

My very first concert was The Rolling Stones, on their Steel Wheels tour. Actually, we didn’t have tickets, but they were playing at an outdoor stadium in Louisville, so the night before the show, my parents and us drove down and parked one of their cars like right next to the stadium so we could come back the next day and tailgate. They even took me out of school early (haha eat it Ms. Bauman I didn’t have a dr’s appt! I was going to see Mick and his lips!). We brought mine and my sisters bike’s along and this guy had a whole roll of these promotional stickers that he just gave to us. My whole bike was covered in these fluorescent orange and pink Rolling Stones stickers. It was awesome. To this day every time I hear Mixed Emotions or Sad, Sad, Sad, I think back and realize how awesome it was that my parents actually pulled us out of school for a freaking Rolling Stones concert. Eat shit all you bastards in school who thought they were cool. My parents whooped your ass.

Then when I was in high school, my dad was running Saturday morning errands when the radio came on a said that Bob Dylan/Joni Mitchell tickets were going on sale that morning for a show in Indianapolis. Dad decides he can make it to a devil-stand, Ticket Master in time. Awesomely enough, he is the first in line, and manages to get us 5th row tickets. 5th row for Bob Dylan and Joni Mitchell bitches! It was so awesome. I mean these two are freaking legends, I’m just glad I got to see BD before he just blew away like dust a la’ Kicking Wing in Joe Dirt.

In fact, I think most of the shows I have been too have been with some member of my immediate family. How bitchen’ is that? When the IBMA show was in Louisville my family always volunteered to work, then there was the BlueSky Jam Fest (only happened once :-( we all volunteered to work security and stuff.

As I type this post I have realized how freaking grateful I am to my parents for being so damn cool and therefore making my sister and I even more bad-ass.


  1. You’re parents sound GREAT and they helped you to create some wonderful memories. My step dad is also really into music. I started going to real shows at the end of elementary school . . . though nothing too heavy until middle school. Even now we go to shows together. Sometimes he wants to rock out to stuff that isn’t my style. He and Jim went to Oz Fest and GWAR last year. I love Ozzy, but was unwilling to listen to crisp in the sun while some of the other bands played. (^_^)
    Rock. . . Rawk on!!!

  2. I grew up listening to music as well. I listen to music all day at work and when I work out, it has a hugh impact on my life.
    Your parents sound great! Your lucky.
    I have been to so many concerts but I never got to see the Rolling Stones, I'm jealous! lol.
    It's nice to have you back and posting again!