I see beyond the road I'm driving, far away and left behind

Last night your Mom and I went to her 20-year high school reunion. Being six and two, you guys don't yet understand the magnitude of a 20-year timeframe. Don't worry...the first years of your life feel like they are going at a crawl. Enjoy them now. You hit a point where the rollercoaster of life reaches its apex and from then on it moves at warp speed leaving you screaming and nauseous. But once again...I digress.

We had a great time together. We sang along to Boston on the radio on the way down and your Mom told me to turn right when she meant left about fifteen times.

I had it easy. Since I didn't know anyone, I didn't have any expectations to live up to. Nobody to compare me to my high-school self. Your mom had to put herself out there for all that. Was anyone thinking... “Boy, she's aged” (she hasn't); “She's packed on a few pounds” (negative, she's a willow); “Look at the loser she married” (c'mon...just look at me).

She came through with shining colors. It was fun to hear old stories about her and the way she was back then. My favorite line was when a guy told her that he remembered she “played soccer like a boy”. Meaning she goes hard or goes home. That's your mama. Someone who can kick like a boy but still makes you say “Wow” when you see her in a cocktail dress after eight years.

It's interesting to see how people change over the years, for the better or for the worse. People that you were in awe of during your high school years age just like the rest of us. It's not what you've got...it's what you do with it.

Sometimes going back can show you just how far you've come.

Headline from "Don't Look Back" by Boston, 1978

You had to have the last word last night... You know what everything's about

Well, my soon to be sixteen six year-old was at it again last night. I told him he could watch TV for five more minutes before bed and as I'm accustomed to do... 5 minutes slipped into thirty. As we started upstairs he asked me, “Are we gonna read a story?” “Not tonight buddy” I replied, “It's late.” He responds by saying, and I quote... “You know, you said I could watch TV for five minutes and then you let me watch for a long time. While I do appreciate that, storytime is very important to me.” Oh, good God.

So then, we're lying in bed and discussing Star Wars which he watched earlier in the day while home sick. He's describing his favorite part in great detail (the trash compactor scene) and I jump in with a comment. He looks at me and says, “Are you telling the story or am I?”

When this kid hits his teens, I am so screwed.

Headline from "Big Shot" by Billy Joel, 1979

I'm On My Way, Home Sweet Home

It's a sad fact of life that as we get older (in my case it was when I was 7 and a half) we tend to only see our extended family when someone dies. While it was nice to see some family, that in some cases I hadn't seen in over 25 years, there is still no place like home. Three days in New York for my grandfather's funeral couldn't have ended soon enough for me. I'm on my way back to you guys right now and I can't wait.

Death is one of those things that you are still too young to fully comprehend. Grandpa John lived to see his 100th birthday which is an incredible accomplishment. He lived a very full life and I think that lessened the grief that everyone was feeling. Still, it was a very emotional few days and I'm wiped out.

At the cemetery, where Grandpa John was buried with Grandma Helen (who passed way in 2001), I had a few minutes to myself walking around the cemetery grounds. It was very peaceful with the sun shining and birds chirping in the surrounding trees. My thoughts focused on my family...your mom and especially the two of you boys. You are my world, I hope you guys know that. I simply cannot imagine a life without you boys in it. I'd bet your mother would say the exact same thing. Everything that is important to me is back home with you. And as I walked through the cemetery I thanked God that I have been blessed with the three of you.

It's been a sad few days. But Daddy is coming home with a huge smile on his face.

Headline from "Home Sweet Home" by Mötley Crüe, 1985

I fell In love with the girl at the rock show

This is an overdue post....I should have written it a couple of weeks ago, but didn't. I've mentioned here many a time that music is a passion of mine. Heck, the whole theme of this thing is music. There is nothing however quite like the experience of seeing one of your favorite bands live. There is an energy that is simply unrivaled.

Over my birthday weekend your Mom and I got a chance to be "grownups pretending to be teenagers" and stepped out to see your Dad's favorite band Alkaline Trio. Now, I'm not the normal audience for this band. Far from it actually. We'll call their music literate punk for lack of a better term. Not the stuff that your average 45-year old father of two listens to but I never said I was conventional. Average is for the boring.

Your Mom had never been to a punk rock show before. What better time to be initiated than her 38th year. (She's all up in arms reading this right now, saying "I'm only 37!"...it's your 38th year, dear.) She had been listening to some of the band's music on her iPod leading up to the show to acquaint herself with the songs. She said she really liked them but doubted that the concert would be as rowdy as I warned her about. Okey dokey...not my first rodeo, hon.

We made our way into the club which was basically a hollowed out warehouse with a stage. We weaved through the crowd and got a good spot about fifteen feet back from the stage. The two opening band's set were very sedate. You could tell the crowd was really not that into it. As we stood surveying the audience, it was an eclectic mix of people. Most were young (18-25) and probably had no idea who the band on my tee was, circa 1984. Kids.

The lights dimmed and Alkaline Trio blasted into the song "This Addiction". The crowd went berserk on the first chord and swelled into a living entity, churning into a stew of sweaty punk energy. Your Mom's eyes widened in surprise. And then she started laughing. One of the things I've always loved about your Mom is how she takes on new experiences and runs with them. Look for that quality in your mates, guys. Adventurous, daring women help keep you young and life exciting.

I dug in and bounced incoming pit participants back into their swirling mess of bodies, making sure your Mom was protected from the all-too-common elbow to the the face. I sang (screamed) at the top of my lungs along with the band, fist high in the air. I was 17 again...and Zac Efron was nowhere to be found. "Can't smash up that beautiful face." (Lyric reference)

I made a few ventures out into the pit when a favorite song moved me to jump in. I don't know how iI was able to do this for two straight hours when I was younger. Now, one song left me doubled over, a sweaty, wheezing senior citizen. No matter. What doesn't kill you only makes you stronger. We had a phenomenal time. It was great sharing something that I enjoy with your Mom. She's a trooper. I doubt she ever experienced anything like this at a Brooks & Dunn show.

I can't wait to take you boys to your first concert. You both seem to love music and your first experience with a live concert hopefully will open up a new level of enjoyment for you. And Seth, try not to elbow dear old Dad in the face.

Headline from "The Rock Show" by Blink-182, 2001

I want a new toy (oh ay oh), to keep my head expanding

Well, OK...I actually just got one. Ya see boys, your dad is bit of a techno geek. Your mother would likely say that it's not limited to technology. Plus I can't stand it when someone else has the latest and greatest thingamajabber before me. Tell me that there is a new barrel hoop and stick limited "Wi-Fi" edition coming out and I'm camping out to be the first idiot on the block. It's what I do. But this time the toy is really neat-o. Yes, this is my first post from my new iPad. I haven't named her yet but I'm leaning towards Venus because she just may be the goddess of love.

Anyways, my hope...no, too soft a statement...my pledge is that I will update this blog for you guys more often than I have been lately. It's something that I truly enjoy doing and hopefully one day you guys will enjoy reading.

Headline from "New Toy" by Lene Lovich, 1981

Lasting Memory

Sage, sick with a cold, sleeping like an angel on Mommy's shoulder while Seth sits on the opposite side stroking his little brother's hair. I could watch this for hours.