I was never the best kid growing up. My parents had big hopes for me, and I tended to excel during my formative years. But then something happened. I became less motivated by mainstream success, and instead wanted to carve out my own niche in the world. I didn’t want to go to medical school, become an engineer, or get a job as a stable Certified Public Accountant. Any one can do those jobs. Whether you’d like to accept it or not, you are what you do, and I wasn’t going to do any thing that wasn’t ‘me.’
Needless to say, my parents really didn’t understand what I was doing. They didn’t understand my worthless degree in communications/art/graphic design/cultural anthropology. They didn’t know what I was going to do with my life. The truth is, they really just wanted me to be happy, but they could only project their own happiness on to my life. They worked hard, and they gave us a great childhood, but they didn’t realize that there was a whole scene out there–a network of artists creating beautiful visuals, sounds and content that had the opportunity to be monetized in the eCommerce marketplace.
When I graduated from college, and I told them I wasn’t going to move home, instead I was going to ‘look for a job’ but keep waiting tables and bartending to pay rent and maintain some semblance of independence. They bought into the idea at first, but 3 years later, they wanted to know I had a plan. Law school, Grad School, Teach for America. No way was I going to get into more debt. I would rather live out my life ‘being free’ to do whatever I wanted at night instead of becoming a slave.
I started a music project with a few of my bros. At first we had some mp3s uploaded to a myspace profile, then the blogs came to blog about us. We booked a mini-tour, and before you know it, we were playing a relevant music festival, easily the biggest of our career. It just so happens that my parents live less than 40 minutes away from the festival grounds, and I took this opportunity to invite them so they could see who I was as a person. I lived in a world that they didn’t understand, but this would be their one chance to see a real life interpretation of my scene, my life, my constructed self-image.
They were certainly reluctant to come to the festival, and had it mixed up as a regional pie eating contest that happens at the same park. They were skeptical of the event, but I pleaded with them to come. My mom was a pushover, but my dad was a ‘whole nother beast.’ There was a big game on that day, and I had to promise him that there would be televisions in the VIP section. I had sent them a copy of our CD, but they just used it as a coaster in their living room. My mom told me it sounded good, but she is always pretty positive. The only comment my dad has made about my music was a hurtful joke about our album title to embarrass me at Thanksgiving Dinner.
They made the drive in from suburbia, and I had to haggle with them on the phone for 30 minutes so they could find parking and enter thru the correct gate. Eventually they made it, and they were shocked to see so many young people chilling out in festival attire. They were out of their element, but I could tell that they were nervous about the experience. I took them to VIP, got my mom a White Zinfandel and my father a premium imported beer. I had to be sure not to get too hammered so that I could interact with my parents, and multi-task, since I was an instrumentalist in our band, similar to the ginger bro in the Arcade Fire who ‘bangs a huge drum’ during “Wake Up.”
We went on stage, and the crowd roared. Seems like blog coverage paid off, and we had a lot of fans in the crowd who had heard about us through miscellaneous social networks and chat clients. Even though our album leaked, u could tell that fans were familiar with the material, so it was all worth it. Throughout the set, I would look over at my parents. They watched my every move. Their faces were a mix between ‘wtf is he doing’ and ‘that’s my son up there.’ I finally saw my dad look proud of me–I hadn’t seen that since I quit tee-ball because I pulled out my weiner while I was running the bases.
After the show, my mom came over and hugged me, even though I was covered in sweat from jamming so fucking hard. My dad shook my hand. He said, “You did it son. It looks like you know what you’re doing, and you’re happy. That’s what’s important. There’s something I never told you. I used to play guitar in a shoegaze band, but I had to get a job at the factory so that we could put down a down payment on our first house. If you had seen the look on your mother’s face when she first saw that house, you’d understand that it was worth it to see her smile at any cost. That’s what love is, son. And I love you. I’m sorry about my distant feelings towards you and my inability to express complex emotions. I didn’t want you to pursue music because I didn’t want you to feel the pain I felt when I had to hang it up. I’m sorry for making you play youth sports. I’m sorry for wanting you to get a high paying job that offered you the opportunity to have a comfortable life. This is what it means to be a father. I am so proud of you.”
We all group hugged. Even if we were flat on a few songs, and the visuals behind us weren’t synced up perfectly during the set, I had a reason to be happy.
All those years, it all paid off. I thought they did’t understand me, but they wanted to protect me. Protect me from failure. Protect me from chasing the unattainable. They were mad at me when I was just floating around my mid-20s. But it worked out. I’m not saying it’s gonna work out for you, but if you give it your best shot, there’s a chance. And that’s what life’s all about–putting yourself in positions where good things can happen. Don’t quit before you even started.
I don’t care about blog buzz, mainstream record deal dollars, pitchfork scores, or banging hot alt bitches. Even though being in a buzzband is perceived as a cool lifestyle with infinite perks, giving you the chance to ‘stay young forever’, at the end of the day, it’s all about family. I love my family.
Thanks for coming out to see our band, mom and dad. What did you think of the show?
Is family more important than buzz?
Is family more important than your alt identity?
Do u dream that one day your parents will have a reason to be proud of you for succeeding at your alternative pursuits?
Have your parents given up on you?
Do ur parents think that ur ‘gay’ / ‘a hippie’ /a failure because ur alt?
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