Diary Day 6
May 15, 2019
I am up earlier this morning than usual, earlier than I would normally be on a morning which I am getting my kids to school. My daughter does not have traditional class time today and is being picked up by a friend for AP tests, and I am waking her up and getting into work about 45 minutes earlier than normal.
Engulfed by a couple of work projects, but mostly appointments and other commitments, I am trying to squeeze in some extra office time this morning. It is one of those weeks where it seems everything hits: Personal appointments, taking my kids (and myself) to the dentist, golf matches after school, music lessons, etc. Normally I would do so with them at my house, with grandparents or their own mother as a backup if I could not, but she is out of town and I must rely on myself to get them to and fro today.
It is a hectic week, but my reward comes at the end. I am going to see The Who in a live show for the first time ever. Likely my favorite band ever, depending on the day or my mood, and that statement belies my 46 years. I think I’ve always liked older music because my own parents were not musical people, and tended to listen to whatever was on the car radio. Growing up in Muncie in the late 1970s and 80s, that meant AM radio or whatever was playing on the “oldies” station. Without older siblings to turn me on to new bands or singers, I adopted the Baby Boomer generation’s music as my own.
I had first planned to attend the show out of state, with a couple of old roommates whose musical tastes closely resembled mine. That had not worked out, due to a graduation event at my son’s school, the date and time announced only after I had our tickets. Attempts to sell these have not yet panned out, but in search of a “bucket list” lifetime box being checked, I have splurged on tickets to their Indianapolis show, even passing on the deeply discounted $20 seats on the lawn. As I’ve said, it’s a lifetime event, and an old fogey like me would like a seat and/or cover if necessary. A general-admission lawn seat to see the infamous Who, on the modern-day concert price equivalent of Nickel Beer Night, seemed like a poor strategy, so I’ve popped for another set of tickets. Fortunately the weather looks promising, and the early performance reviews glowing.
I wrap up my workday with another school event, a meeting of the Early College program with my son. This program allows high school students to earn up to two years’ college credit, or the equivalent of an Associate’s Degree, while still in high school. While my son has been raised in the happy expectation that a college degree will be earned, every little bit helps with getting credits out of the way or perhaps shortening that eventual bill for tuition and fees. While he can see the financial incentive, I’ve not yet instilled in him an appreciation and love of learning. He is an unmotivated student, as was I, and he lacks some of the advantages and connections that eventually helped me succeed and get to a good place. I cannot complain about the person he is, but his motivation sometimes worries me.
Going home, I stop by an event if not recognizing, but acknowledging,