children

Father's Day

"When one has not had a good father, one must create one." - Friedrich Nietzsche 

    The clock on my laptop has just rolled over to 12:00, which means it is officially Father's Day. This is a holiday I've not had to give much thought to until now. I've been wrestling all day with what really isn't a big deal for most people- do I call my father? I mean how do you wish a happy Father's Day to someone who was supposed to be your father, but never really was?

    There's a good to fair chance I'm making a mountain out of this mole hill, but this is one of those things that no one tells you you'll have to think about after you've made the decision to find and meet your father. Do I call him? Do I text him? Do I just do nothing? These have been the questions I've been asking myself everyday this week. One of the things I have to keep reminding myself is that I'm the one who did this. I decided to open the door, and I'm worried I may not be as prepared to actually walk through it as I thought. At this point, I've already done the hard part. I made contact. That's HUGE!! I don't think I've truly given myself enough credit for that.

    It would have been so much easier to go through life angry, and rightly so. It would have been so much easier to go through life curious, with all these questions, never knowing the answers. Well now I know, and as they say, knowing is half the battle. I've chosen to go with door number three, and now I have to live with that choice. So whether it's the car, or the goat, it's mine now. 

    I think I've just solved my own problem. Thank you for reading along through my thought process. I know these blogs have recently been few and far between, but I don't want to just write for the sake of writing. If I don't feel like I have anything to say, then I won't say anything, but my hope is that these entries can help even just one person who's going through what I am. 

    With all that in mind; if you have a father, wish him a happy Father's Day, tell him you love him, and know that you are lucky to do so. As for me, I think I'm going to text my mine. I'm also going to text every father figure I've had, because unlike sons, fathers are not born, but made. And I've made some pretty great fathers over the years. 

Twenty-Six

"When you're 26, you can do anything." - Norman Lloyd

    Twenty-six is by no means a monumental birthday. At 26, you wake up, go to work, and maybe go to dinner. Turning 26 isn't special, unless it is. Well, it is for me. Here's why...

    November 13, 2017 - I'm at Sky Harbor in line at Starbucks, ready to return home after the most emotional week of my life. I get a text message and look down at my phone. It's my father. 

    "Is that your dad?", Caleb (Assistant Director) asks, ready to start shooting. "No, it's my mom", I lied. I wanted these last moments back in Arizona to be just for me. I didn't even open the message for a few minutes. It wasn't until I was in line to board the flight that I read it. 

    Four words. Four words that made me empathetic towards my father for the first time. Four words that left me speechless. 

When is your birthday?

    So yes, this typically unspectacular birthday, for me, is special. It's the first year my father wished me a "happy birthday". It's the first year he even knew when it was. I'm releasing my first film. I'm doing my first radio show. I'm planning my first press tour. I'm working on starting my first non-profit. 

    I think every year can be special. Every year can be full of "firsts". I know it's cliché, but life is what you make it. Don't wait for your birthday, or New Year's to make something happen for yourself. Go out everyday and work harder, and learn more, and love better, and create fearlessly.     

5 Things I'm Keeping For My Kids

“You don't remember what happened. What you remember becomes what happened.” - John Green

    You see, I’m not one for sentiments. I own very little, I’m quick to get rid of “non-essentials”, and am what most would consider a minimalist. Recently though, I’ve found myself holding onto things I would normally throw out. I am certain this has stemmed from meeting my father for the first time, so here are 5 things that I’m keeping for my son.

1. Every Old Notebook

    I’m lucky enough now to be a professional musician/music director, but I spent most of my teens and early twenties playing in bands and writing songs. I have notebooks full of half-written songs, and some of them are just awful, but that’s something I think I’ll want my kids to have. It’s great that I’m much more polished now, but there’s something special about the beginning stages of any art form, in that you’re bad… Really bad. But anything worth doing is worth doing poorly at first.

2. My First Guitar

    It’s not great. it’s an old, bare-bones, Epiphone Les Paul, but it’s what I learned on. I played it at the first show I ever booked, and to this day it’s in my mom’s basement. It doesn’t hold much of a tune anymore, and I haven’t played it in probably 8 years, but it was what started me on the path to becoming the musician I am today.

3. Clothes

    As I said before, I’m a bit of a minimalist. I have four black t-shirts, one pair of jeans, a red flannel (as a musician, that’s a requirement), and two jackets. There’s something special though, I think, to being able to give my son the denim jacket that I wore basically everyday for years. It’s not much, but I know I wish I had something like that from my dad.

4. High School Memorabilia 

    I’ve moved at least once a year since I graduated high school, and every time I bring with me a box of crap from high school; letter pins, trophies, awards, etc. My mom told me that I’d want to keep that kind of stuff to give to my kids, and to be honest, I didn’t believe her until a few weeks ago. I know now that I’ll never get rid of that box.

5. Memories

    This is the biggest thing I wish I had of my father. We’re on a path now of trying to figure out what a relationship looks like and how to start over, but I’ll never have my own memories of him. I’ll always never have grown up with him. There will always be this long period of time in his life that I was never a part of. I don’t ever want my kids to feel that way. 

 

   These are just a few, primarily material things I’ll keep for my kids. What will you keep for yours?