My dad died before I reached my second birthday. He was drunk on his motorcycle so it was his own fault, no tragedy just negligence. I have a boatload of emotional issues from never having known him. As an adult I often wonder what parts of me are sctually him peeking through my genetic code. I've heard second hand accounts of him and as I've gotten older those stories aren't always rose colored, but that's the stuff that gets me excited because those blemished tales lead me to a truer picture of him. It feels weird to admit it, but often I miss him. Like on a molecular level.
One of the things I learned about him is that he loved #deeppurple . It fits in with his love of motorcycles. I bought this cd because the album was released a year before my birth so it stands to reason he would have listened to it. I was born the year they released "machine head" and while I love the romanticism of him rocking me rocking out to that monster of an album this one seems more likely. I've listened to this disc quite a few times over the years and I often get dragged into a notion of nostalgia. Wondering if he ever sat like I did absorbing these rollicking proto - metal riffs. I often wonder if music would have been some sort of passionate bridge during my angsty teenage years. In turn this leads me to thinking about my sons. Every time they show interest in music I get filled with hope that they will enjoy it as much as I do, that it will give us a language to communicate with when our generational dialects get too distant. I wonder if they'll ever listen to this album and wonder about the grandfather they never met.
No comments:
Post a Comment