Singing with Hank...Check

We all have monumental moments in our life that we will never forget like the birth of a child and our wedding day. These are universally accepted as the biggest moments in one's life. That is certainly true for me too, but there are many other special moments in life as well. Things that you strive for because of some strange part of your being. You are driven to do these things so you can write them down in your memory as mission accomplished.

Maybe there is even a checklist of strange things that you would like to do. I refuse to use the term Bucket List to refer to these things. I don't like terms that just explode like that. I will not jump on bandwagons of any kind.

Whatever you call the list it might involve going to the Seinfeld diner in NYC. It could include meeting the Dalai lama, 12th son of the lama, flowing robes, grace, bald, striking. I don't have a list, but if I did then I would certainly be marking one thing off Saturday night.

Thanks to my always awesome wife, who got me tickets for my birthday, I will be going to see Hank Williams Jr. in concert Saturday night. He will be with Jamey Johnson who is also one of my favorites. The  checklist item is the opportunity to sing "A Country Boy Can Survive" with Hank. That is something that any good country boy should aspire to do. I will drink a beer and belt out the entire thing with Bocephus. Good times.

While we are on the subject of random things that I find overly important lets talk about some others. Here are a few of the less than Hallmark moments that I am proud to have marked off a list of things I decided were cool for some reason or another.

When I visited the Coloseum in Rome I recited my favorite line from the movie Gladiator while standing smack dab in the middle of the former showplace of ancient Rome. I said "My name is Maximus Decimus Meridius, Commander of the Armies of the North, General of the Felix Legions, loyal servant to the true emperor, Marcus Aurelius. Father to a murdered son, husband to a murdered wife. And I will have my vengeance, in this life or the next."

My secret is out. I am a tremendous dork. I'm sorry to let you all down. I just couldn't conceal it any longer, but if you're honest with yourselves I am sure there is at least one person out there feeling the pangs of jealousy right now.

I drank a beer or two in a real live Scottish Pub in Glasgow Scotland. The local beer is Tennants and my friend's brother who met us at the pub calls it Vitamin T. He ascribes many of his special powers and physical attributes to his faithful adherence to a Vitamin T regimen.

I got the kiss on both cheeks greeting from a real Italian in Rossano Italy. It was actually a goodbye after frequenting a certain restaurant every night for weeks on end. After seeing it done again and again over the months I spent there I made it my goal to be accepted into southern Italian society enough to gain that greeting. And I did it.

Next week hopefully I will have a funny yarn to spin about my time with 20,000 rednecks and how it will now be indelibly imprinted upon my memories just like these other unforgettable moments.

Back in the Summer of 2010

Give yourself a sticker for surviving Summer 2010 because it is gone. I don't care what the calendar says, it's over. I know this for certain because on my daily drives to and from work I don't have to dodge fourteen boats piled high with tubes, kids, and coolers as they head for the lake. I am not seeing as many people roaming around Wal Mart in their swimming suits with armfuls of potato chips and sunscreen. Our little town has slowed down again for the winter. It is nice, and to top it off we have even had rain for three straight days.

To further cement the end of summer football has returned to our lives. The Razorbacks won their first game and have climbed to #14 and #15 in the polls. This Saturday Arica and I are heading off to our first football game of the year. We will see friends, have fun, and call the Hogs on their way to another blowout victory against a former directional Louisiana school that is now simply ULM.

Even with the joy of football season beginning we will mourn the passing of another summer. There are good and bad things about every summer in Arkansas and this year was no different. Really the only bad thing was the oppressive heat. The temperature was over 100 degrees for nearly the entire month of August. That leads to huge patches of dead grass, nearly zero outdoor activities, and high energy bills. But even the heat can't keep us from having fun.

Now it is time to recap the good things about Summer 2010 aka Braden's second summer.

This year was the first family vacation which included Braden's first Cardinals game and a trip to the zoo. We also took Braden on his first of hundreds of lake trips. We went to water parks with and without the little man. Arica and I snuck in one trip that ended with a free Billy Currington concert. God is great. Beer is good. And people are crazy indeed.

There were plenty of other little things that were equally as awesome as vacations, water parks, and free concerts. For example:

We introduced Braden to snow cones.

Braden learned to help feed the dogs, and now he loves to do it every day. He has even developed somewhat of a friendship with the old hounds.

And finally there is one good thing that all this heat brings, besides all the water activities. It gives you a great excuse to run around the house in your underwear.

So that is it Summer 2010. It seems we hardly knew you. Until next Memorial Day when I fire up the grill and pop in the Saving Private Ryan DVD, I hope you enjoy your trip to the Southern Hemisphere.

Go Daddy

Braden knows right from wrong. There is no confusion about what his parents will allow and what we won't. It's obvious when Braden, doing something wrong, stares at me or Arica to see if we are watching. Sometimes he even smiles that sly grin knowing that we are about to make our move to interrupt his fun. That's all part of normal development. He is trying to determine his boundaries, and in some cases stretch them as far as he can.

Braden even knows what things are more likely to elicit a response from me rather than Arica and vice versa. Recently he has started using this information to try and improve his chances of getting away with things. Mostly he uses this new technique to look at things or get into cabinets and drawers. He likes to play with our PS3 and Wii game cases and discs. I let him play with the old ones but not the new ones. They are too expensive for toddler inspection.

So how does my son deal with this problem? He throws me out of the room.

When Braden wants to look at the games he tells me to "GO!" If I don't go then he will physically push me out of the room. Sometimes he even pushes me two rooms over and around the corner to make sure I can't see him. While he walks back to the location of his planned hijinks he watches me the entire time. If I take a step towards him Braden will point at me with his little finger and repeat his demands of "GO!"

While Braden can easily determine right from wrong, we need to work on his understanding of when these rules apply. That is a worry for the future though. For now I just admire his creativity.

Free As I'll Ever Be

After years away I have fully rejoined the country music fan base. I have seen a couple concerts and I am an avid listener to country music radio once again like I was as a child. During this time I have become a big fan of the Zac Brown Band.  One of their new songs is called "Free" and these lyrics got me thinking about freedom recently.

So we live in our old van, travel all across this land, me and you...Just as free, free as we'll ever be. - Zac Brown Band

That verse rings true because there is something about being on the open road that is freeing. When I was in college I worked a few summers at a U-Haul center. Sometimes I would have to travel to another town to pick up a truck that we needed and drive it back to our center. I remember how free it felt to drive those big lumbering 26 foot moving vans. It was as close as I will get to being a truck driver. I always had the windows down no matter what the temperature. Between my legs was a sugar and caffeine filled bottle of Mt. Dew. In my left hand was always a slowly smoldering cigarette. As I drove a few hours along the highways of NE Arkansas with absolutely nothing on my mind I felt free.

Later after I graduated college I used my freedom in other ways. At that time I felt free to go out to a local bar and grill 4 or 5 times a week for supper. I always took the same chair at the bar. The bartender would give me the remote control, and I would put it on whatever sporting event I wanted to watch. Every night in the summer it was Cardinals baseball. Then I would order my food without benefit of a menu, as the bartender automatically poured me a cold draft beer. Sitting atop my perch bellied up to the bar I felt free.

Eventually the bar was replaced by other hobbies. Just months before I met Arica I bought a fishing boat. Since then my favorite hobby has been bass fishing. I love to get up before sunrise on those chilly April and May mornings to head to the lake. I make my 20 minute drive out to beautiful lake Ouachita where there is no shoreline construction. Out on the lake it is just me and my boat surrounded by mountains and forests. In the middle of the lake as the sun comes up over the pine covered peaks I feel free.

While it is true that having a kid has cut into fishing time and cut out time at the bar I still feel free. You see as a Dad you are allowed another type of freedom. A type that couldn't be matched by scaling Mt. Everest, fishing in the pre-oil spill gulf, or anything else in the world.

When I come home from work and Braden runs across the room to greet me with a DADDY!! I feel free.

Free from sadness.
Free from worry.
Free from pain.
Free from stress.
Free from any problem this world can throw at at me.

The love of my son makes me feel, to borrow from Mr. Brown, "Free as I'll ever be."

Ordinary Average Guy

It's no secret that having a kid changes the way you look at things. Everything from picture frames (potential glass shards) to flowers (deadly bee attractants) have a different look now.

Having a kid can change the way you watch TV and movies. Any show with a kidnapped child is extra difficult to watch when you have children of your own.  Of course you might need to change your R rated movie watching habits as well.

Once you are a parent you look at the teenagers at the mall differently. Your comments go from these kids drive me crazy to I would never let my daughter dress like that or where are their parents. Of course teenagers at the mall still drive me crazy.

Music is affected by having kids too. Obviously you might listen to more children's songs and less Metallica, and some of the songs you continue listening too will have different meanings altogether. For instance good ole country songs about father and son are more special to me now.

Yesterday Braden helped me see another song in a new light. We were playing outside in the backyard like we do most afternoons after work. Braden was picking up rocks and putting them through the chain link fence. I was petting the dogs and not paying much attention to his rock moving chores.

Then I heard Braden grunt something at me from my left. I turned to see his outstretched hand offering me a gift. It was dog poo.

At that moment when I should have been thinking of every disease on earth all I could hear was Joe Walsh singing in my head. With my apologies to Mr. Walsh the soundtrack of my life at that very moment went something like this:

Braden picked up the dog doo, I'm glad it was hard. ruff. ruff.

Hazards of the Job

Two weeks ago Arica and I went to a Tim McGraw concert. Before last year I hadn't been to a country music concert since I was about 6 or 7 years old. Now in the last 6 months I have been to two. They have both been fun. Live music is always fun, especially when you can sing along.

Lady Antebellum was also there. Arica wanted to go see them. I was OK to sing along with my look alike Mr. McGraw. A lot of people have told me I look like him. It's not my opinion but others.

While we were there something happened that embarrassed me but first a little background info.

When I was in high school I was a dork. I don't know exactly why, but I just was. I was different than the other rednecks. I was awkward socially, and it didn't help that I was the valedictorian.

When I went to college I met some guys and learned how to be "cool".  From that point on it was important to me that I be cool. I wanted to say the right things and give off the right image. Everything had to be manly. Words like beautiful and cute were not part of my vocabulary. Image was important.

Of course I have grown out of that to some extent. It is still important to be manly, but I have admitted that I am to some degree a pretty boy so there is some growth in that area. Now on with my story.

When you attend a concert at this particular arena you have to wear an armband if you want to drink a beer.  I am sure most of you have worn these armbands before. They stay attached by sticking to themselves.

If an inexperienced armband person puts yours on they can cause plenty of damage. If the sticky part is not completely covered then the exposed area will stick to your arm. If you are a person with hairy arms then the armband will pull on your arm hairs all night.

So here I was sitting among 20,000 screaming rednecks at the concert. Many of them hadn't showered. Most of them were wearing their boots and hats. Quite a few of them had been dipping in the sauce. All of them were good ole boys and girls. During a quiet time between performers my arm hair got caught in the armband. This is where it gets ugly.

In my typically loud voice I said, "owie."

Arica looked at me and asked if I knew what I had just said. I was trying to get my bearings. Did I, the man who chooses words based on coolness, just say that. It couldn't be.

I looked at the man next to Arica and he was just staring at me. He was looking me up and down. I think he was thinking about punching me in the face and taking my wallet. After all what could a man that says "owie" do about it.  All I could do was grin and bear it.

For any other new dads out there that think you can remain cool after having a child beware. After an extended period of being exposed to baby talk, stuffed animals, and Barney any man is susceptible. There is only so much Barney a man can take before the manly center of his brain is turned to mush.

Sure being defecated on is a big hazard of fatherhood, but I say losing your manhood in an arena full of country bumpkins is much much worse.

I Still Believe in Radio

We live in a digital music age. We have ipods filled with songs from itunes.  Anyone can get any song at anytime. There is virtually no more wishing you could hear a song or wishing you could buy a CD.  If you think of a song it can be at your fingertips in seconds.

At least this is what I have heard. I am stuck in the equivalent of a music time warp.  I have no ipod. I don't use itunes or any of its cousins. I have never even burned my own CD, although I have many in my possession.  I don't have satellite radio in my truck either. I am still listening to the FM radio.  I am one notch above Adam Sandler's goat who was tied to the truck with a three foot rope and listened to the AM radio.

While all the new technology is fine and good, I was reminded today of a musical joy that future generations will miss out on.  That is the joy found when the radio unexpectedly plays one of your favorite songs.  There is little that lifts my spirits like hearing one of my old favorites on the radio.  It feels like you won a prize.  This was certainly the thing of legends on road trips. Surely most people my age had some time when you were off to untold mischief and a great song added to your fun.

That happened to a bunch of my friends and I once on a road trip to various parts of the state. Right before this uplifting song came on the radio one of my friends had called his parents. They weren't home so he left a message.  We later found out that he did not hang up the phone because his sister heard our entire drunken rendition of "Sweet Child of Mine" on their parents answering machine.

So children of today you can have your instantaneous music.  I will stick to my prehistoric memories of excited youth belting out a little G 'n R just because we felt so blessed by the radio gods. Sometimes in life it is the smallest things that can bring a smile to my face.

Today it was the Eagles.

Sharing Music with Dad

It's Fatherhood Friday again so stop by Dad Blogs and check out all the great posts before you head off for the holiday weekend. Happy Independence Day to everyone!

I have never been a music crazy kind of guy. I don't even own an iPod. I like to listen to music in the car. I love hearing some good tunes when I'm having a beer with my buddies. Music certainly is a part of my life even if I have never been a music freak.

Growing up I listened to country music with my Dad on the way to the farm. I still love the old country crooners like Merle, Waylon, Willie, and Johnny Cash. Dad also listened to the oldies station which was not my favorite. Some day Braden and I will have to share the airwaves. I wonder what we will listen to while going places in the car. Of course with satellite radio and TVs in many vehicles the experience won't be the same. I will probably be forced to adapt to Disney tunes.

Until that day comes my music enjoyment will involve listening to classic rock on the FM radio in my truck. I don't have satellite radio so I am still doing the FM thing. Recently I was thinking about the definitions of classic rock and oldies. When do my favorite classic rock tunes become oldies? Is there some sort of constitution on music classification? Is there an instruction manual? Do songs just become oldies after a set amount of years like cars becoming antiques?

When Braden gets older will the things I like to listen to be on the oldies station? One day will I turn to easy listening and find Jimmy Page rocking the guitar solo in Heartbreaker? Will Eddie Vedder become an oldie in a few decades? Maybe one day Braden will beg me to change the station from the Doors or Guns n' Roses after referring to it as oldies garbage.

I once went digging through my Dad's records as a teenager. I found Led Zeppelin and Jimi Hendrix albums among others. This was probably the first time I ever realized that my parents might have been cool once. I still listen to those groups on classic rock stations today. I don't think they will ever become oldies. It seems like "pop" music goes the way of oldies channels. As ACDC once sang, "Rock and Roll will never die." I hope they are right. I hope some day Braden will enjoy the classics like Led Zeppelin and Jimi Hendrix just like my dad and myself.

I am aware that through his teenage years he will like whatever is popular at the time. He might even like pop music or rap. I haven't admitted this in a while, but I used to love rap music when I was in high school. So I certainly won't judge. Whatever music he likes is fine with me.

I do think it would be cool, however, if one day he found an old Pearl Jam CD of mine and decided to listen. Then upon hearing the band he would me amazed. He would come to me saying, "Dad, who is this Pearl Jam? They are awesome! Do you have any of their other CD's?" He might even come to the same realization I did years ago that his Dad could have possibly been cool once. That could lead to us talking about all my old favorites.

Good music is timeless. Classics never die, and being able to share them with Braden would be just another great connection between father and son. And to borrow from Bruce Springsteen, it would give me another chance to remember the "Glory Days."

Playing the Rattle

I wrote recently about Braden potentially playing the guitar and my inability to play here. I told you that I never took a music lesson of any kind. I also told you that I begged and pleaded until I was taught a few cords just to keep me quiet. With that knowledge I was able to play guitar just well enough to destroy some great classic rock songs. I am writing today to share some good news about my musical development. I have found an instrument that I can play......The baby rattle. That's right. I am now an accomplished baby rattle player. I could try and take this up a step and play the maracas but why worry with that. I have a built in excuse and free rattles already lined up to fuel my new pursuit.

I started playing the rattle randomly when I would sing to Braden. Every once in a while a mood will hit me and I might break into song. Now that Braden is always there and he is too young to make fun of me, I sing to him rather than to myself. He seems to enjoy it. If there is a rattle within reach I try and add a nice percussion rhythm to the song. More often than this though I sing along with some of his toys. He has a few animals and books that sing various children's songs. I try to memorize them and sing along as well. On some songs I have my own established rattle routine. On others I just make it up as we go along. The best songs are anything with a salsa type beat. There is one song his blue eared puppy sings that has that type of beat. For that song I can swing the rattles from side to side like maracas and due a Latino dance. Of course the sight of me doing any type of dance is enough to turn your stomach, but once again Braden doesn't mind. It seems that the sillier I act the better he likes it. That is good news for now because I fully expect to turn into an embarrassment later in life. Knowing my future embarrassment status I plan to take full advantage of these times when I am still funny. There is nothing like having someone around that thinks you're funny even if he is only 3 months old.

Will My Son Play the Guitar?

I was driving back to the office from my lunch date with a turkey sandwich wondering what I might write about today. We had a busy weekend with both sets of grandparents. My parents were in town to visit Saturday. Then we had a fish fry and watched the Super Bowl with Arica's parents on Sunday. That was the leading contender for my post until the radio changed my mind. As I pulled up to the office I heard the soft strumming guitar opening to "Wish You Were Here" by Pink Floyd.

That song always takes me back to my college days when I was desperately seeking help from all my musically inclined fraternity brothers. I wanted them to show me some cords on the guitar or teach me some songs. I eventually learned G, C, D, E, A, A minor, E minor and maybe some others. After hours of practice on other peoples guitars I was able to mangle them into bad renditions of a few songs. The one thing I loved best was playing that riff from "Wish You Were Here". It was my go to guitar move and I still try and play it today whenever I see a guitar.

So as I heard it this afternoon I had to wonder if my son would have any musical talents. My mother wanted me to take piano lessons but I refused thinking it was for girls. Obviously I was wrong. I would love to be able to play me a song Mr. Piano Man, but I have never taken one musical lesson of any kind. Should I encourage Braden to play an instrument. Will he understand how cool he would be if he could play the piano or guitar. Actually any musical instrument can be cool in the right setting. Just take the E Street Band from the super bowl last night for example. Sure they have drums and Silvio playing the guitar, but that's not all. Right alongside they have that giant guy playing the sax and a whole brass section in the back. Music is a fun thing and I hope my son gets into it more than I did. In order for him to do that though he will have to inherit some musical talent from some other member of the family because that all passed me by.

Wish You Were Here, Pink Floyd

Lullabies that Parents Love

Lullabies have probably been around nearly as long as babies. I am sure thousands of years ago mothers were singing or grunting something to their newborns. The soft sounds often help a baby sleep. When Braden was having trouble sleeping a friend of ours made a CD full of songs that helped his daughter sleep. Of course the CD did not work at all for us but that is not my point. I was listening to the CD with Braden and my wife while we worked on getting him to sleep one night. A few songs went by that I did not pay any attention to then suddenly there was an instrumental lullaby that sounded familiar. I started humming along then singing. The song was "Boulevard of Broken Dreams" by Green Day. The YouTube video at the bottom of this post plays that exact song. After the song was over there were other old Green Day favorites along with The Smashing Pumpkins and Nirvana. I have seen on the Internet CDs for The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, Johnny Cash and others. I have no idea how well these things work on most babies. Like I said they didn't work for us at all, but I fully support the idea anyway. It is a great age we live in when we have such great lullaby options for our children. That night I was sad when the CD ended. I wanted to listen to the songs I liked again. Then I was reminded that we had more important things to do like get Braden to sleep. So as long as you don't get distracted like me these lullaby renditions of your favorite songs are a great idea.