Whirlwind craziness
I’ve been quiet because I’ve been conspiring, you see.
About two weeks ago, my dad’s girlfriend had a crazy idea to get me there for the premiere of the documentary, Another Night at the Agora, which details some of the big south Florida bands from the 70s and 80s. My dad’s band, Z-Cars (Zed, not Zee) is one of the bands featured in the film, and I know he’d been hoping I could come to the showing, but knew our finances have been kinda froggy since the heater/ac blew, and then the tornado came fast on its heels.
Anyway, frequent flyer miles were donated, plans were made, and soon, I was in the middle of a crazy 30-hour round-trip worthy of a rock star. We completely snowed my dad, which ruled. I got to watch the movie and then hang with him and all my wacky uncles until unholy hours of the morning. I got to hang with my mother’s best friends, which was surreal and amazing and so very emotional for me. Everyone told stories about how I used to mess with them when they were passed out on the couch; about growing up idolizing my dad; about the force of nature who was my mom. I got to tell funny and appropriate stories to their kids, and see my childhood for the bizarre and wonderful weird thing it was.
As much joy as the surprise brought my dad, I didn’t really expect to be so affected by the visit. I had a moment with Mary Ann (my mom’s best friend) where we realized she was only 12 years older than I was, and it seemed so weird that 12 years seemed so trivial now, whereas when I was a kid, it was an insurmountable chasm. When I was a kid, my life revolved around my father’s bands, and everyone else could have fallen off the planet. Hearing all these bands again made me realize that even if I was outwardly focused on Z-Cars or Cats on Holiday, my innards were gobbling every last riff of these bands. I so clearly recognized every band’s influence in my musical taste.
Best of all, I got to see my dad and the amazing transformation made by a solid, decent relationship. He’s living with a wonderful woman, and her badass daughter. They’re surrounded by warm and supportive friends who obviously love them. I left knowing he was in good hands.
So thanks again to Diane, the mastermind, and Tomey, my lovely benefactress. The weekend was magnificent!
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