Families, dreams, music, video games and movies

[la_belle_laide]

A little background, first. Trust me, it'll mean something.

As one or two of you may know, in my family, which is huge (I have 56 cousins,) we all tend to share the raising of the various children. If parents run into a rough patch, both parents have to work, or to be away, or whatever, aunts, uncles, grandparents are always around to feed and care for the kids. This isn't only out of necessity, but also just plain fun. I grew up among my cousins, and we were always spending weekends at Gram's and Gramp's, which was easy, since they were across the street. Various aunts, uncles and cousins have lived in the apartment I'm living in now. My cousin and her husband are living in the house that my Grandparents used to live in. My Grandma lives next door to me. Etc.

Two of the greatest influences in my life were my two younger cousins, Spencer and Meghan. Both of their parents worked during much of their childhood, so they both grew up among my aunt and uncle, my grandparents, my parents, my cousin (who lived with me at the time,) and myself. We all shared in raising them, the two of then were most often with my Mom and I, and we were always really close.

But since Spencer and Meghan have gotten into their teens, and school and work have taken over their lives, I rarely get to see them anymore. This is one of my biggest heartbreaks. I know that Spencer is going to go away to college pretty soon, and I'll see him even less then, and that kills me. And then, three years later, Meghan will go away, too.

So I was thrilled when I found out that they could come to visit today and spend the night. Thrilled, but, at least with Spencer, always a little trepidatious. Spencer is a 17 year old boy, a musician, in a pretty well-known local band, with lots of friends now. I always wonder, what will we have to talk about? Will I bore him? Wouldn't he rather be with his friends, or rehearsing with his band? Even though since the day he came home from the hospital (to my house,) one of the things we always did together was enjoy music, are we even into the same music anymore?

The week after Spencer was born, my parents gave me a Gibson Les Paul for Christmas. (There are pictures of me alternately cuddling the tiny bundle that was Spencer and then cuddling my new guitar.) It was the HUGEST Christmas gift. I was 16, and fancied myself a guitarist. I was very passionate about it, and already had some guitars for which I'd worked very hard after school and during the weekends, but this one was a gift, and it was an incredible guitar. I held onto this dream of being a decent guitarist for a few years after that, actually. And I used to let Spencer strum the strings when he was a little older. I shoved guitars into his hands as soon as he could walk. I played Chili Peppers and Alice in Chains and Pearl Jam and Ozzy to him day in and day out. I sat him behind the drums and let him bang on them until he fell asleep.

By and by, I learned one of the hardest lessons a kid could learn: I wasn't good at everything. And worse: I wasn't good at the thing I most wanted to be good at, that I practiced at without fail. It just never came together. Over the years, I put the guitars away in my closet; a guilty reminder of money and time spent and wasted. I never even liked to look at them.

Alternately, Spencer grew into one of those kids who could put his hands onto any musical instrument and play it. He chose the bass guitar as his main instrument, the one he loves more than anything. And he's full-on incredible at it. We like to call him "Flea, but with clothes."

So today my Mom and I drove the 45 miles out to their house and picked up Spencer and Meghan for a day of hanging out, video-gaming, movie-watching and ice cream-eating. Meghan is at that age where everything interests her. (Actually, she has always been at that age.) Easy to please, easy to amuse, quick to laugh, and full of spirit. We are never at a loss for things to discuss and enjoy. It was really Spencer that I was worried about. I hadn't seen him in about four months. I don't even know who his friends are or where and when his band plays.

Anyway, so on the way home, I was playing 30 Seconds to Mars in the car. I had already gotten Meghan hooked on them last month when she came to spend the week, and my Mom likes them, too. Finally, Spencer was taking a listen and he really liked what he heard. He also brought along his bass guitar, which goes everywhere with him. Back home, (or rather, at my parents' house,) he plugged the bass in and asked to hear "that song that has the bass in the beginning." I knew he meant "The Fantasy" so I played that one for him. After about three tries, he nailed it. Then he asked to hear "The Kill" and I played that, too. He said he wondered if he could play it on the guitar, and tried to do the guitar part on the bass.

I thought about it for a few minutes, then finally went to dig out my guitar from the depths of my closet so that he could give it a try. For a while he just played around with it, got used to the sound and everything (which is still an incredible sound.) Meghan busted out her iPod which has a lot of J-pop on it (we both like J-pop a lot,) and Nirvana. Eventually the three of us were singing Smells Like Teen Spirit while Spencer played it on my old guitar.

Meghan mentioned how much she loved the acoustic version of The Kill, and Spencer asked if he could hear it. I played it for them, both of them so quiet and intent. (On youtube, someone commented, verbatim: "Jared have a beautiful voice." We joked about that for the rest of the day everytime that song got played. "Jared indeed have a beautiful voice. No one else have a voice like Jared have.") Spencer shyly asked if and when 30 Seconds to Mars was going to play a concert around here. I told him, probably October. Not so shyly, Meghan said, "Could we go with you if you go?!" ^_^ That will be good. I'm not wild about crowds and big scenes. Those two kids keep me tethered to earth and centered.

Spencer quickly got obsessed with the acoustic version of The Kill. While I went about my business of feeding my dogs and cleaning my birds' cages and all this other kind of stuff, Spencer played and replayed and replayed that one song, until he was sure he had it. Once I was done, I sat down behind him and sang the lyrics while he played the chords perfectly.

After that was done, he kept playing The Kill over and over again, on my old Gibson Les Paul that I had gotten with such high hopes when Spencer was a week old and I was even younger than he is now. It sounded so awesome when he did it, and the guitar was finally getting some love, was finally getting played the way it should have been played--for what it is worth.

I told him he could borrow it on an indefinite basis. I can't give it away--it was a gift from my parents, one that they worked hard to get for me--but I handed it over to him for as long as he wants it. After dinner, he diligently re-stringed it with strings my Dad had found in his own music room (my Dad is an incredible musician in his own right,) and then packed it away in its case, where it has sat, quiet, for too long.

My guitar is in good hands now, I know. More than that, we found something to do all day, the three of us: play music, specifically 30 Seconds to Mars and The Kill. And with any luck, the three of us can go to see them in concert together in Autumn, when they come back out this way.



See? 30 Seconds To Mars: bringing families together. ^_^

Spencer also finished KH2 for me. I could have done it (the last few battles were pretty easy,) but he was there, so I figured, why not just let him finish the game that much quicker and with less fuss. It was pretty neat. Sora + Rikku forever and stuff. ;D The gayest game ever.

Then we watched some stuff on youtube (the Cloud vs. Sephiroth battle, some 30STM stuff, some funny cartoons,) and then all went to my parents' house for pizza, ice cream, and V for Vendetta. I liked it yet again. (And I hope to like it at least two more times, because Kim is coming over Thursday and I think I'll see if she wants to see it, and Brittany is coming over Friday and she definitely wants to see it. And then we're going to watch Donnie Darko, so we're doing Double Feature night.)

The kids went home today and I miss them already. I only see Spencer every few months anymore. That's one of the toughest things to deal with. Time was they were both with me at least five days of the week. I miss them every day.

Oh, I know. Right click me to download a voicemail message from Jared of 30STM. He wants everyone in the world to vote for The Kill in the music awards. The video really is deserving of an award; it's brill. He sounds very tired after an entire summer of traveling all over the creation and screaming for a few hours every night and then waiting around outside until the small hours to talk to anyone who wants to talk to him and take pictures and blahblah. AWWW, PUPPY! How can you say no? So vote!

Moving on. This morning, I was having this totally bizarre dream. I was looking out my back window and there were two moons in the sky. I wondered if maybe one of them was actually a reflection in the glass, but the clouds going across them were different. I do tend to have so many dreams involving the night sky. That's probably because I look at it every single night for a few minutes before going to bed. Sky and water fascinate the hell out of me and always have. So there I was, wondering over these two moons, when my college professor came into my house. He was dressed like V. (My subconscious is not very subtle at times.)

A little background on this particular professor: He was one of my favorites; a snarky wit who actually did know it all. He didn't suffer fools. If you were being a moron, if you were handing in stupid things, he would tell you straight out: You're being a moron, you're handing in stupid things. (I was lucky enough to have very many English / writing professors who thought that honesty was truly the most expedient policy, and if your widdle feewings got hurt, go dabble in Math or something. ;D ) He was cool because he taught us stuff that most other professors wouldn't touch. He made up a wild, extraordinary curriculum every different term. No one ever wanted to disappoint him. He was Snape-ish in some ways, though with a vivid sense of humor. Anyway, he was completely into John Wilmott as I have mentioned, and after seeing The Libertine, I sort of hunted down his email address and contacted him. I was so pleased to hear back from him a few days later on the subject. I keep thinking I want to write back to him again, but I don't like to bother him.

I owe this particular professor a lot, since he basically put me through the last two years of college by nominating me, every term, for this one HUGE English scholarship, and then making sure that I got it. The first term I had to split it with another girl (who went on to become valedictorian.) The rest of my college career, the scholarship went only to me, so no one had to pay a single penny towards my last two years of college. Basically he was a pretty big influence on me and he's been on my mind lately.

So, back to the dream. He came into my house dressed like V except without the mask and asked me if I would go for a walk, but that the walk included a lot of traveling. I told him that I wasn't too sure I should. He said:

"You want to write, don't you? Didn't you want to be a novelist? Well, your life is warm and comfortable. You are warm and comfortable. But why are you just simmering on the back burner when I know you really want to burn?"

I decided to go with him.