Sounds for Our Fathers

As most of you know, I am a musician, and music is pretty much my lifeblood. It's cliche, I know, but it's true - the moments are few and far between that I'm not either listening to music or humming or whistling something. I have songs that remind me of some of the best times in my life, as well as songs that hearken back to some of the worst times in my life. It's just part and parcel of my life, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

So I was at the cafe tonight, they were playing a bunch of oldies - or what I was raised to refer to as oldies; songs mostly from the sixties, lots of doo-wop and stuff like that, and I had a comfortable warm feeling creep over me. I realized without a lot of thought that the reason was not that I was drinking (I wasn't - just coffee) or that I was feeling the effects of the thermostat being turned up. Rather, I realized these songs were comforting to me because they were the songs that my dad would always listen to. I never gave it much thought before, but my huge love for doo-wop probably comes directly from the fact that those were the albums (yes albums on vinyl) I heard pumping out of the big pioneer speakers in my parents' house whenever my mom was out of the house for any length of time.

It's funny, with myself being a musician, and my sister once being a very talented pianist, neither of my parents really had a musical bone in their body. My favorite story to tell about my father when asked about my parents' influence on my sister's and my musical educations is this: as a child, my dad was a tinkerer, which led directly to him pursuing a career as an engineer. However, he did take clarinet in middle school. That ended one day when, being the engineer he was, he noticed that all the screws on his clarinet were loose, at least to his perception. So to rectify this, he got out his small-sized screwdriver and went through, one by one, tightening the screws on the clarinet. However, when he tried to play it a few minutes after "fixing" it, he discovered that every single key on the instrument was stuck -- he didn't realize that the give in the screws is what allowed the keys to move, and he'd inadvertently rendered his clarinet completely unplayable. At that point, according to his account, he knew his music career was as good as over.

But getting back on topic - I was enjoying the songs selected at the cafe, thinking of how they reminded me of those cold afternoons at home where my dad would sit at his desk, balancing a checkbook or paying bills, listening to these classics of the fifties and sixties. Then that got me thinking: if I have kids, will they have similar affections to my music? It could be due to my odd tastes, or the fact that most of the bands that I listen to and enjoy the most are all currently active and putting out music, but I don't see my hypothetical kids, when they are thirty, gleefully whistling or humming along to We Are Scientists songs, tapping their toes to Motion City Soundtrack, or reveling in the epic sounds of Explosions in the Sky. Maybe they'll latch onto their grandparents' music, and love the fifties sound too, or maybe they'll like none of it.

It's even a discussion I've had with older generations from time to time: fifty years ago, there wasn't the broad range of music that there is today. For the most part, there was just "popular" music. With the exceptions of specific stations who would play classical or jazz, most mainstream radio stations played a whole range of the music that was popular at the time. There was not the division of stations that there is today. Just imagine if you turned on the radio and it played like your iTunes library on random - oldies, metal, hip hop, punk, indie, whatever. You'd probably complain that the station had no focus, or that it was inconsistent. The best way to contextualize it is to use the retirement home analogy that my mother uses: for her parents generation home, if you were in the common room at the retirement community, if you put on Big Band music, they'll all love it due to the memories and emotional connections to the songs. For her generation, it's early rock and roll and all the other music rolled up into the "oldies" label. So what will happen with my generation? Will we all be excited to hear Nirvana when we're 80? Will Snoop still be a go-to when I'm in a wheelchair? There has become such a divide, with the opposing sides entrenched against each other, over music nowadays that there isn't much of a common ground for my generation.

Am I crazy? Do you think that there is a universal music that captures our generation? Am I overly romanticizing the music of yesteryear? Or am I just a big sappy pile of musical mush because I heard some old Commodores and Four Tops while drinking coffee a few hours ago?

Trapped

I've said the joke time and time before, but I find as time goes on, I honestly kind of believe that I am a man trapped in a lesbian's body. Yeah yeah, it's a funny joke because straight men and lesbians both like attractive women, but I seriously find that on a semi-regular basis, I find myself most attracted to females who turn out to be lesbians. I don't know how it happens, or what it is about them, but I'll be at a bar or out somewhere or something like that, and check out a girl; I'll think she's cute, I'll keep an eye on her from afar, and sadly more often than not, I continue to do so until I see her pair off with her girlfriend. So no, the attraction is not based on that "woah, those two chicks will totally make out" philosophy that makes a number of guys attracted to lesbians on the surface. Nope, I just find girls I think are cute, and then they just so happen to prefer the company of women.

A perfect example the other day, which is kind of what prompted this blog being written in the first place, is I was driving around town, going down a long stretch of road with timed lights, which means you pretty much have the same cars around you for a few miles. I happened a glance to my left, and saw a girl driving next to me who was about my age. Keeping pace with her, I said to myself "ooh, she's kind of cute." I do this to myself all the time - there's little more joy I find in my day-to-day existence than the fun and excitement of finding that you're driving alongside a cute girl. It's dumb, but it brings me joy. So anyhow, I am driving, and the cute girl is driving alongside me, and after a few glances I notice a few things: I notice she has a cool and what most would call "alternative" haircut. In short, her hair kinda almost looks like an anime character, which for some reason appeals to me. She has bumper stickers of good bands on her car, I don't remember which, but I remember being impressed with her musical taste. However, most importantly, she has an air freshener hanging off her rearview mirror. It took a second or two to finally get it to swing in a direction where I could read it, but once I did, it was clear as day: "I (Heart) Lesbians." All I could do as I drove along was laugh, shake my head, and say "Apparently, so do I."

These are not theoretical isolated incidents either. There is, of course, the ill-fated tale of MUNI girl. For those of you who don't know this story, it may be better served to hear the full version from me in person, but I'll give the cliff notes for those of you who don't have that luxury. Basically, there was a girl I'd see all the time on the bus in to work, it just so happened that our schedules lined up like that. I saw her once in a local bar, and we talked briefly because I didn't know if she was in the extended group of people we were with or not. So months progressed after that where I would see her and wave or exchange pleasantries in the mornings. I finally caved and put up a missed connections ad on Craigslist, figuring I'd cast my fates to the internet. She saw the ad, replied, and we went to lunch one day. That night I received an email from her telling how she usually dated women, but had gone out with men in the past and hoped that telling me that didn't freak me out, which it didn't. Remember, I am a San Francisco native, it takes a LOT to freak me out when it comes to personal preferences. I tried and tried to get her to commit to another date, and after a short while, realized I was making no traction, only to find out via Facebook that she had a new girlfriend some weeks after I stopped calling.

So yeah, lesbians. I tend to dig 'em, much to my chagrin. Even when I don't know it, the world keeps on reminding me of this fact.

Dirty

That's right, kids. I'm now officially old. This makes me feel slightly better in that now I can feel a tad more justified in being a crotchety old man. Other than that, things don't feel much different otherwise.

So I'll warn you advance, this is going to be one of those sappy "glass half full" kind of blogs where I remind myself that turning thirty is no big deal, and it's just another day in my life, and all that business.

"So what has been going on in the land of Bill?" you ask.

I suppose the main thing is getting settled in the new house, which is always an adventure, but based on the fact that there haven't been bile-filled blogs about how horrible my roommates are, you could say things are going well. Granted, having people around to interact with after midnight has a rather direct relation to the downturn in blog productivity.

One of the pleasant upsides to the current setup is the fantastic quality of coffee in my cup each day. We're blessed to have two fantastic coffee shops a stone's throw from our front door, and they're always a short walk away. Better still, I have two wonderful french presses in my cabinet, and top-notch beans in my cabinet. I get to remain wonderfully caffeinated all day and night, which makes the days skate by easily. Unfortunately, I haven't spent a whole hell of a lot of time in the cafe, but that's due in part to the fact that I have an incredibly comfortable couch that sits in front of an almost stupidly big TV screen and my entire collection of books. I can crank my music as loud as I want (well, while keeping the neighbors in mind, at least) and can do so in the comfort of my underpants if I so choose, so the lure of the cafe isn't quite what it once was, despite it's ridiculously close proximity.

Coffee and my mailing address aside, life just kind of keeps plodding along. Hello Monster is busy kicking ass, taking names, and trying to figure out the most efficient means of fundraising while we start pushing towards recording a full-length disc. I will say that that, even at 30, playing in a band is one hell of a wonderful way to retain grasp of your youth. I tell ya, I feel like a high school kid when I'm onstage. Albeit an out of shape and sometimes tipsy high school kid, but a kid nonetheless.

So as I look forward to this coming year and my new decade, I am excited with everything around me - a new home, great friends (many of whom are expecting offspring soon), great music, and even fantastic coffee. Hopefully a job will finally be something I can add to my glass-half-full list, but other than that, I wouldn't really change much.