Author: Deb

The Kids Are Alright

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This vignette recently took place in the back seat of my van, and it made me smile:

My son (“J”):   “Oh man, you should see this album cover that my mom has.  There’s this baby on it, and he’s totally naked, and he’s swimming after a dollar bill.” [the preceding conversation must have concerned either baby brothers, or general nakedness; I wasn’t really paying attention].
His friend (“A”) [emphatically, matter-of-factly]:  “Oh, I’ve seen that!  I know that band.  I know that band. They’re good.”
J:  “Yeah, I think it’s Nirvana.”
A:  “Yeah.  They are like, a really good band.”
J:  “Yeah, they are.”
[and…..scene.  The conversation likely then returned to either Minecraft, baseball, or hamburgers].

Even Sadder Than a Wedding Dress in a Thrift Store….

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Just a few of the many treasures awaiting you at the Ballard Goodwill

….it turns out, is a mix tape in a thrift store.  I never realized this until I found a stack of them at my local Goodwill.  I was intrigued by the one called “Wedding Music/Favorite Love Songs #1″, so I picked it up (What happened?! Was the wedding cancelled?).  I glanced at the list of songs only long enough to see Mariah Carey well-represented, but then I felt compelled to put it down.  It was too much like reading someone’s diary.  I couldn’t do it.

Ah, mix tapes.  Our kids will never know the magic of a mix tape.  They will craft digital playlists, I’m sure.  But nothing so time-stamped and permanent as a mix tape with their handwriting on it.

I freely admit that I am a sentimental hoarder.  I’ve got all of my old tapes, even my earliest mix tapes made with my sister and cousin (if you can really call them mix tapes… really it was just us talking into a Panasonic tape recorder, telling stupid stories and singing songs).

Another gem is the “Workout Mix” tape that I made in college, with appropriate-tempo songs for a routine of exercises.   Given that it was 1989, of course the lineup included INXS, Prince, and Neneh Cherry.  The last song, the “cool down”, was – what else – “Nite & Day” by Al B Sure.

Then there was the mix tape trilogy made for a post-college road trip (“Driving Tape #1, #2, and #3”, of course.)   Number 1 has got you covered with your basic R.E.M, Pearl Jam, and U2, with some Naughty by Nature thrown in for reasons I don’t recall.  Number 2 was the mellow tape, with Luther Vandross and Johnny Gill – you know, for when the road asked you, “come on, let’s bring it down now….”.   Number 3, sadly, is no longer with us.  But it’s quite possible that it contained country music.

My favorite mix tape, though, is one that my long-distance boyfriend sent me in college.  Oddly enough, I only remember one song on it – “Cars that Go Boom”, by  L’trimm (wasn’t he romantic?).   But what I love about that tape is that, inter-mixed with songs, my boyfriend talked about what was going on in his apartment, or what he was studying.  He introduced each song like a DJ. “Cars that Go Boom” reminded him, he said, of me and my best friend/roommate (were we like “Tigra & Bunny”?).   I haven’t listened to the tape since then, but I love the idea that his 1989 voice is preserved on it.  I can’t even remember what his voice sounded like then.  I’m saving the tape like a fine bottle of wine.   Someday the time will be right, and he and I will listen to it with all the reverence it deserves (through a series of twists and turns, we ended up getting married years later.)

I really hope that the mix tapes I made for others never made their way onto a thrift store shelf (in the garbage = fine!).  And now I’m feeling like I should have purchased those thrift store mix tapes and given them a proper burial.  I need to think more about that one.   As should you — what mix tapes do you treasure, and what mix creations of yours might still be floating around out there?

In the mean time, though, welcome to McMahon Hall, and enjoy the mellow grooves of Al B Sure (closing your eyes and pretending that it’s on a cassette tape, of course).

I’m Still Alive, Middle School version

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Have you ever looked at a picture that filled your heart with so much love that it made you catch your breath?  This is mine.  THIS is my boy.  THIS is his essence.  This is a moment that I want to hold forever in my memory.  My boy, at the last of our weekly coffee dates that we’ve held for four years.

The Spring has flown by, and my thoughts have been so disorganized that there has been no moment to write about everything going on.  I’m so caught up in my head that I’ve even found it hard to lose myself on a run.  I’m not enjoying myself, I’m just compiling another To Do List in my head.

It’s like this every year for the last few weeks of school, but it still catches me flat-footed.  I’ve told my son to just take it all in, and enjoy the last few weeks at our beloved elementary school.  But I haven’t taken my own advice.  We’re in triage mode, in “drink from the firehose” mode (my favorite saying from my friend Morgan).  We are in “check another event/meeting/party off the list” mode.

And today was possibly the one item on the list I’ve been dreading the most – the last time my soon-to-be middle schooler and I would go on our weekly coffee date, our standing one-on-one time that we’ve enjoyed for four years.  (“Oh, There is My Mind”).

It’s not a sad event.  But it’s a melancholy one.  Things are changing, and I believe you should acknowledge and appreciate the change as it happens.   So I knew it was on the calendar, and I ticked off a mental countdown of our remaining coffee dates as they winded down.

And then suddenly, today was here.  He bought his usual donut, and I had my usual latte.  We kept it light hearted.  We chatted about small stuff.  We wrote in the journal that we’ve kept this year.   All in all, I held it together pretty well.  I thought I would choke up with tears, but I didn’t.  That is, not until I dropped him off, watched him walk into school, and I turned on the car radio.  And there it was – “Alive”, by my band.  There is really no other song that could come on at that moment.  And as much as I’ve come to expect it at moments when I’m lost in my head….as much as I rely on the shuffle gods to bring music to me when I need it, I was still surprised.  I actually said so out loud – “REALLY?“

My song. Pearl Jam’s breakthrough single, “Alive”.  It’s spanned the last 20+ years of my life, as I’ve gone from college student to law student, to lawyer, to wife and mother.  (“Alive, Encore Break”). If I was younger and hipper, I might describe it my ‘jam’.  But I’m old and the song is too, so I’ve just grown to think of it as my theme song.  My anthem.  It shows up when I need it.

Of COURSE this is the song that comes on.  When I think now about the poignant times it has shown up in the past, the crises of those times seem very far away.  Just like this one will someday.  Then, as now, I embraced the changes and made it through.

So I suppose that if the (Pearl Jam) universe could answer my question in the car, that answer would be – “Yes, REALLY“.  It knew that I needed a little nudge to remind me that everything works out, and that as things change and life keeps moving forward, I’ll always have music to help me through.

Like the Ceiling (and Car) Can’t Hold Her

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Even when you know that your kids are very different from each other, it’s still interesting when you see it crystallize in an instant, as they react night-and-day differently.  To wit:

Riding in the car last weekend, my daughter asked me to turn it to one of “her” radio stations.  My kids have recently taken over the car stereo in a different way than in the old days, when we would pop in a Wiggles CD and know that we had at least 30 minutes of a happy back seat.  These days, she has certain radio stations she likes and has proclaimed as “hers”, and if you live in Seattle you can probably guess what stations those are.

I changed the channel.  We were in luck!  Both daughter and son were happy.  It was a song they both liked. (This is significant, I swear.  But then Macklemore is the great common ground anyway, yes?  At least in my house it is.  They always agree on it, and we listen to the [non-edited] album all the time, meaning that – yes, my kids have heard the “F” word.  Oops.)

Daughter:  “YES!  Hey, can we roll the windows down so that everyone can hear what song we are listening to when we drive by?”
Son:  “NO!  I hate it when people do that.  Then everyone would hear us.”
Daughter:  “I know. That’s the point.” (with accompanying eye roll)

I chuckled and took a deep breath as their upcoming teen years flashed before my eyes.  And although I consider myself to be somewhere at the midpoint of their differing views, I did not, ultimately, roll down the windows.

The Morning Shift

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Sometimes things change so gradually that you almost don’t notice the imperceptible shift as it happens.  Nowhere is this more true than with kids (“days are long, but the years are short”).  Lately, though, I’ve been paying attention with my soon-to-be middle schooler.  Things are moving too fast. 

The chubby baby face is gone, but he still crawls up in my lap, all arms-and-legs-and-bony-butt.  He bowls me over with big hugs and kisses, and his height is so perfect that I can stand behind him and rest my chin on top of his head without having to bend over at all.

But there are little things that tell me that a shift is happening…..his hair is long and messy, and I can’t get him to change his stinky hoodie, nor can I convince him that socks are only meant to be worn once before they are washed.  His sneakers are so big that I recently mistook one of them for my own, and brought it to the gym. It fit me.

We sat today at our morning coffee date.  Today’s location (always his choice) was a donut shop.

Putting his retainer case on the table, he started the conversation:  How many days until Christmas?  How many school days left until Christmas break?  How many days left until the end of the school year?  I realized we are almost at the halfway point.  I told him to enjoy the rest of the school year, and his final days at our much-beloved elementary school.  Middle school will be different and fun, I said, but it will never be the same as these days.

Then for the first time – I noticed – he is holding his hot cocoa mug differently…..not in the double-handed style of a child, but in a quiet, confident way, sitting back, legs crossed like an adult man, chatting with his mom.  I had an instant flash-forward to meeting my future college kid for coffee, in between his classes.

The shift is happening. 

If only this epiphany had not been punctuated by a Coldplay song playing in the background.  Anyone but Coldplay.  I never enjoyed them but used to tolerate them for my husband’s sake, and then their fate was sealed.  A Coldplay CD was in our car the weekend that my uncle died unexpectedly.  I can’t listen to Coldplay.

Why couldn’t the background music to this parenting moment be something melancholy? (Bob Dylan?). Triumphant? (Pearl Jam’s “Given to Fly”?)  Even The Wiggles……just not Coldplay.

But of course, that’s the thing – we can’t choose.  We can’t choose the moments, or when we will notice things, or what the soundtrack will be.  All we can do is pay attention.

And of course, we can be relieved when our nearly-college-age kid reverts back to 10 year old obnoxious older brother, asking, “Hey Mom, do you think my sister is color blind?” (“No, why?”).  “Well, have you seen some of her outfits?”

Knowledge From the Box

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The Showbox and the Rock Box, that is.  Here’s what I learned recently from each:

The most obvious thing I learned from the Rock Box was that I should have gone there much sooner. It is a music lover’s dream – individual, various-sized karaoke rooms, with food and beverage service while you sing.  I do not have a good singing voice except when alone in my car, and therefore do not often feel the pull of a karaoke microphone. I had done karaoke exactly one time, in college, and my inebriated trio’s rendition of Devo’s “Whip It” was so loud and awful that the karaoke guy turned our mic off.  But now I’m older and wiser, and on this October night, in the company of a small group of girlfriends and armed with a tablet device that gave us access to any song I could think of, I found my inner karaoke goddess. Our group sampled nearly every musical genre, from show tunes to rap, 1970’s to present day, and I had a blast.  Three lessons from the Rock Box night:

1.  I don’t know all the words to Naughty By Nature’s “OPP” like I thought I did;
2.  Journey is really hard to sing.  Kenny Rogers is not; and
3.  “Smells Like Teen Spirit” is just as fun to yell now as it was 20 years ago.

A few nights later, the stars aligned – both kids had sleepovers away from home, and Portland band Blind Pilot was playing a gig at the Showbox.  I surprised my husband with tickets and a night out.   Blind Pilot is a current favorite of his, and we’ve never seen them live before, so this promised to be a good time.  Blind Pilot is what I call kitchen music…music to listen to while I am making dinner. It’s melodic, unobtrusive, easily digested. Surely their live show would be the same.

We had appetizers and cocktails at a bar, while we strategized about Halloween costumes for our friends’ annual party.  We talked about the kids; we talked about college football.  It was all so easy and in synch….we moseyed over to the Showbox and staked out our spot, and watched a few opening bands before Blind Pilot came on. The show had a great vibe, and they proved to be just as enjoyable as I had predicted. I got my Concert Moment, when they closed with one of my favorite songs, “Three Rounds and a Sound”, which, especially on this night, is a life-affirming tune. Here were my takeaways from the evening:

1. I might be too old to attend shows that don’t start until 11:30pm.
2. People really need to stop groping each other and playing grab-ass at concerts. Seriously. (possibly another sign that I am getting old).

The third thing, though, and really the most important, is that the next time someone asks me, “Why are you like that?” in relation to my concert-going habits, I will now have a better answer.

I recently fielded that question across a dinner table, and the answer was so simple that it eluded me at the time. Now I know that my answer should be – because I want to have nights like this.  I am “like that” because, after I go to a show, the memory is mine.  It gets woven into my musical history.  It is burned into my soul and into my heart.  So that now, in my kitchen on a random Tuesday night, I get to hear this song and remember a great night out with my sweetie, who is still, after all these years, my favorite concert companion.

(Or, as Blind Pilot would put it:  “‘Till kingdom come, you’re the one I want”.)  Indeed.

Territorial Pissings (yes, that’s a Nirvana reference)

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You know what’s cool?  Offering a free download of your concert for those who went to the show.  I saw Dispatch for the second time last weekend, and I loved being able to download a copy of the show on Monday morning, for free, with the barcode from my ticket.

I was excited that they decided to play Seattle on this tour. Last time, (which we thought was a one-time reunion tour), we had to fly to Berkeley to see them. (“A Badger and a One-Eyed Toad”).   But a show at the Moore Theatre meant an easy, well-deserved night out with my sister, and their sing-along vibe is just plain fun – which is, after all, the entire point of live music.

Dispatch enjoys the ubiquitous status of being the “biggest band no one has ever heard of”, and maybe they are.  They’ve achieved a loyal fan base without any major record deal, and, despite taking a break and various side projects, they’ve stayed true to their roots as an independent band.

Offering a free download of a live show is a great throwback to the days of tape trading and authorized bootlegs.  And, while it might just be a publicity stunt, it makes you feel like like they appreciate the fact that you buy their music and tickets to their concerts.

I give these kudos to Dispatch – freely – but as preface to what I am about to say.  I’ll keep listening, and I’ll always buy a ticket when they come to town, but I might need to have a talk with my imaginary friend, lead singer Chad Stokes.  (“On Sisters and Pineapple”, “The Pixies, Chad Stokes, and Pineapple”).  It seems we might differ on one important Seattle music issue.

It was really a great show….good energy, lots of old favorites.  And then, it happened.  In between songs, Chad made reference to playing at the Moore Theatre. I can’t remember the exact words, but it went like this: “We’ve gotta pay our respects to Seattle……the Moore Theatre…..hallowed ground for those who have played here before us…..bands like Alice in Chains, Nirvana, Pearl Jam…..”

I suddenly got all territorial and defensive.  Really?  You are leading with Alice in Chains?  I liked them just fine, but….really?  You are putting them at the front of a Seattle list that includes Nirvana and Pearl Jam?

You can argue all day about who should be #1 or #2 on the list.  And even I will admit that’s is probably Nirvana at the top, if for no other reason than, let’s face it – dying young and tragically elevates you to cult status. (And for the record, do I love Nirvana).

But in no universe would anyone ever put Alice in Chains as #1 on that list.  Was he trying to be ironic?  Make the non-obvious choice?  Or maybe he was just naming them alphabetically.  Either way, I was now officially on a rant.

To my sister beside me:  “Dude, if you are paying your respects, then pay them properly.  It’s Eddie Vedder who scaled the damn walls of the Moore Theatre, thank you very much.” (maybe Kurt and Layne did too, I really have no idea.  But I was on a roll.)

I couldn’t stop bitching about it, leaning over, again:  “AND!  CHAD!  In case you haven’t noticed, Layne Staley overdosed, and Kurt blew his brains out.  Eddie Vedder’s the only one who’s still around”.

My sister considered this, briefly, but then hit the bullseye:  “Yeah, but dude….when’s the last time Pearl Jam even played a show here?”   Ouch. I hate it when she’s right.

(P.S.  It was September 2009 and, since then, they chose to have their 20th Anniversary Celebration Concert in….Wisconsin, and their most recent gigs have included a festival with Jay-Z (?!), and an Oracle corporate event.  Not that I am keeping track.)

(P.P.S.  You know you have to go and watch the Moore Theatre-filmed video for “Evenflow” now, right?  Best line, at the beginning:  “This is not a TV studio….Josh!  Turn these lights out.  It’s a f*cking rock concert!”)