I could easily have called it a day. A major story that caused a long shift and me turning around to deal with some script issues – could have made home difficult. Instead, I told my oldest daughter, Abbi – who’s 18 now – to just buy a pizza. It may be a tribute to the short attention span most kids have today that when they guy told her she had to wait 45 minutes for delivery she was incensed.
But dinner delivered I could concentrate on work.
The only caveat…preparing for tomorrow, which was still up in the air. My middle daughter, Hannah, had a myriad of chances to actually prove herself worthy of going February 1st with me to see the Who play Quadrophenia live, beginning to end. It’s my favorite Who album and she’s the guitar player of the kids. Not sure how many chances we’ll have to see the windmill arm live again so this was it for me! But she couldn’t stand prosperity. First the 13-year-old knucklehead had missing assignments again. Then she neglected her chores for days. By all rights I should have taken her older sister . . . not her.
But I gave her a chance.
This has been the couple weeks from hell. First this kids start dealing with their grandfather being terminal and no idea when he might pass away. Then Monday my own grandmother passed away.
Yes, I know what you’re thinking: “why is he going to see the Who and not to the funeral?”
Couple reasons for that: first, it’s insanely expensive to fly right now and I can’t spend two days driving there, two days back, and miss almost a week of work. Then comes the personal issues and familial battles that I won’t really recount here in public. Suffice to say I’ll be better off emotionally staying home.
And here’s the thing . . . knowing that I’ll see Hannah’s face, for the first time, seeing Pete Townshend leap into the air and beat his guitar senseless will be worth it. The morning my Grandma passed I woke up in a strange fog and couldn’t go back to sleep at the exact time she passed. I don’t know why, nor how, but I feel like she already said something to me. Now, you can tell me that’s crazy, that it’s coincidence and that it’s wrong. It very well may be. I’m not getting spiritual or religious on you, I’m just saying that I’ve made peace with it.
My kids deserved a chance to have something normal this week. While their grandfather languishes at home and their father deals with the trevails of February sweeps, why not do something fun, no payment needed?
And not to sound selfish here, but . . . I needed something fun, I really did. So I’ll scream my head off tomorrow night as Roger sings “can you see the Real Me?” and sing “it’s only teenage wasteland” along with 10,000 strangers. I’ll buy Hannah and myself t-shirts and I’ll enjoy myself.
The last two weeks have been difficult trying to hold up my kids and keep them stable and failing at so many turns. So tomorrow we throw caution to the wind and Hannah and I will take pictures of ourselves while Pete flies through the air.
And we’ll embrace the insanity . . . after all, that’s what Quadrophenia’s all about anyway!