I ME MINE
All I can hear...I ME MINE I ME MINE I ME MINE....
My blog subject title is actually a lyric from one of my dad and I's favorite Beatles' songs:
"I ME MINE."
I guess that's just what's on my mind today- I mean, on I ME MINE MIND.
The Beatles really were geniuses- individually and combined. Sometimes when I hear their songs, especially a few in particular, I am moved to tears.
It takes a lot to do that to me. They are magic.
My dad and I went to see the BEATLEMANIA tribute band a year or two back. We wound up drinking so much that I think I forgot that I wasn't really at a Beatles' concert, and then when I realized that I would never get to see them, and that half of them are dead, I felt completely robbed and broken hearted.
I asked my dad if it was lame of me to love a band so much that it makes me cry, and he said, "If it is, then I'm lame too." We then shared a lovely father/daughter moment of fake Beatles' doing a pretty decent job of covering track 11 through "The End" of Abbey Road over cheap speedway beer.
My dad is an artist and a musician and a writer and a dreamer- one of those Baby Boomer dads who rocked the long hippie hair (until about 3 years ago) and taught himself to play the guitar, fronting garage bands as a teenager and aspiring to be a rock star from the age of 8 until now- at 52.
He never gave up that dream, even after getting sentenced to joining the military in lieu of jail time at 18 years old, and years of being chained to working a government job with the Post Office to support his family. To this day, when I go to my parents house, he is usually to be found in his studio, fiddling around with his instruments, eager to share with me his newest project: usually either a cover of a classic that he loves or an original piece he wrote about something that gets on his nerves or how much he hates the Post Office (those are always hilarious and sad at the same time, but I gotta love him for it) :)
He was in a band for his unit in the Air Force, which is how he met my mom- who saw him play one night while they were both stationed in England. Then, once we eventually moved to Norman in the early 80's, he used to play on Campus Corner and around the City with some buddies of his (he used to play at the Deli- isn't' that nuts?)
Since I was an itty bitty kid, he was always in his "man cave" (in the basement, formal livingroom, garage, etc. of the houses we lived in over the years) writing songs and smoking and drinking beer and "jamming" with his band buddies, or just pickin' on his guitar, solo-style...
You know how when you grow up, there is always a NICHE that your dad has, so that for every birthday and Christmas, as long as you get them something related to that central "theme," the gift should be a success?
For some dads it's OU or golf or other sport or sport team.
For my dad, it was the Beatles. Over the years, we've branched out to Zeppelin, the Stones, the Who, Sabbath, ACDC, Foghat, etc., but the Beatles is always a can't miss hit.
Dad used to play his guitar and sing to me, "Here Comes the Sun" when I was a little girl, and Dad and I danced to the Beatles' "All You Need is Love" at my wedding.
I am imagining that that is partially why my heart is so soft when it comes to the Fab Four...not just because everything they were/are (which I could rave on about forever, but will spare you), but because their music reminds me of just how COOL my pops is.
He's my rock star. He reminds me that, no matter how old you get, you can dream and dream and dream and never really grow old. He reminds me that, even though sometimes you have to conform in order to go through the required motions of life to maintain a lifestyle and necessity, you never have to conform who you are as a person. We love the Beatles, and everytime I am feeling blue, their music makes me happy. And a bit weepy, but in a fabulously joyful and awesome way.
Gotta cherish and savor those rare little things in life that actually move you to happy tears.
