My Dad

It's hard write a memory when the people who may read this may have no idea where this is even coming from. Unfortunately, describing memories through text is a rather difficult task for me, but I've decided to take a stab at it. Hopefully, whichever way you interpret this scene, I hope its as good as I used to see things.

Growing up was nothing short of a typical suburban childhood. Being part a middle-class family of six, I always found it had its ups and downs. For this particular memory, it was certainly a good thing. The cars my family owned and drove seated six (uncomfortably), which always resulted in me being placed in the front middle seat. I remember dreading that position, since I hated being squished between my brother and my father. And being the annoying music whore I still am today, I was always screwing with the radio. There I was, a young snot-nose kid who thought he knew the definition of good music. I won't even go into detail with some of the garbage music I am talking about.

My father and brother, who I would say are two of the biggest Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young fans, were always pushing for a car ride sing-along with their favorite band. Not having the greatest relationship with my father, I always hated (or pretended to) listening to what he wanted. Now, as a twenty-one year old student, I no longer see my father often, due to family affairs not in his favor. As much as I tell myself I wouldn't mind never seeing my father again, I know that I am completely full of shit. He hurt my family, probably me less than my siblings and mother, but still, he is my father.

The song I picked not only takes me back to times when he was in my life, but reminds me of a time when the family was together. We would sing carelessly while we traveled to our destination. One thing I miss most about my father is driving on dark back-roads in the town I used to live. This song makes me think of a summer drive with the windows down. I am actually humiliated at how completely corny and cliche that sounds, but what else can I say? Its factual. The only lights visible around us were the headlights shining ahead from our car. There's something about this song that puts me at ease, as I can still hear my father try and harmonize with some of the best singers, in my opinion, I will ever get to listen to. Thanks to him.

Unfortunately, I didn't describe much of the actual memory and trying to help picture what happened. But try listening to the song as I remember it - summertime, windows down, on dark country-roads. Let the smells and sounds play along with the song. I promise, it's worth the experience.

P.S. - I am too lazy to go back and proofread, so please, ignore the typing errors.