Dear dad, sorry about the car

By the time I was only 17 I had accumulated enough keyboard and PA gear to fill a small van. Unfortunately the largest vehicle we had at the time was dad's Plymouth station wagon that looked something like this.

I learned that if I placed everything just right, I could squeeze my 2 huge Yamaha speaker cabinets, 1 over-sized rotating Leslie organ speaker, 4 large keyboards and various other accessories into the back of this poor thing. Of course the half ton or so of equipment I crammed into it pretty much caused the rear springs to flatten out, making the car look like a Mexican low rider.

But even after abusing the Plymouth for an entire year and eventually leaving dad with nothing but a broken down shell of its former wagon self, he never complained and simply went about his business of replacing it with something else. And if you ask him, he'll tell you, "Eh... it was just a car, no big deal."

But if you ask me I'll tell you, "It wasn't just a car. This wagon was everything."

To me, dad's quiet acceptance of that vehicular destruction was a strong statement of support for his teenage son's musical aspirations. Technically, if he had decided that I wasn't allowed to use the family truckster as my own personal UHaul, I may not have been able to pursue the musical opportunities I did.

And technically, I may not have gone on the road for 10 years.

And technically, I may not have met my wife in St. Louis.

And technically... well you get the point.

So even though it's 40 years later, I still want to say "Thanks dad." I've never forgotten what that meant to me.

And technically, my kids should be thanking you too.