my father texted me for the first time since October.
he told me to listen to "the rooster" by alice in chains.
(as if i had never heard it before)
i played along and told him "ok, i will"
and then later said "oh wow, those lyrics are intense".
i wonder how he is and where he is.
somewhere in New Mexico,
he owns a huge house
with 2 freezers, 4 cars, 4 bikes,
a dog, a wife, 4 television flat screens, 3 game consoles, and 2 boys.
living somewhere nice.
but he only cherishes the garage,
a place where he once told me-he hides out to gain some "calm".
a place where he stashes the alcohol that he is not supposed to drink,
and listens to old classic rock.
i remember the last time we spoke last year,
he was fasincated with Kurt Cobain.
he said "man, Nirvana, man...they were some pretty heavy shit"
and then he went on to explain how much of a conspiracy went behind Kurt's death-only to repeat himself until he boldy stopped speaking (for once) and then said "but what do i know. i mean, this is only what i think"
----------a memory of him.
driving in his convertible Seabring in the late 90's (i was in the 6th grade)
he wanted to play AC/DC real loudly and I wanted to listen to Brandy or Bill Withers. He wouldn't compromise-he just blasted that awful band.
----------a few years later. I was in high school and we were now in a different car, maybe his porshe. He wanted to listen to Led Zepplin and I was into it. We drove for hours to nowhere-listening to Led Zepplin, Sade, and the Deftones (who I introduced him to and whom he acutally liked).
i don't think we will ever do that again.