Here’s a fun life-hack. Get your dad to like the music you like.
I’m an Indie Rock fan, and my dad is a 60s/70s music fan…which means the kind of music we like is pretty similar. That also means I get a lot of opportunities to bond with my father by taking him to concerts where he’s the oldest person there, and I don’t have to pay.
He loves the attention. I love the savings. And the shows are usually pretty fun as well. In fact, as I write this, I am hours away from seeing a female-led power pop group composed of 20-somethings in a small hipster venue with dad footing the bill. (They’re really good. Check them out.)
As a result, I go to a lot of concerts with my dad. Pretty much every time one of my favorite bands is in town, my retired father is the one to know they’re playing, and asks me to join him at their live show. This normally means a free concert, a free beer or two, and maybe a free meal if I’m lucky.
Unfortunately, when the power-pop band Metric played at the Riviera… things went a little sideways.
The show was fantastic. The band, one I’ve loved since high school, brought everything. (For those unfamiliar, if you’ve seen Scott PIlgrim Vs. the World, you’ve heard their music. If that still doesn’t do anything for you, this song is a full-on banger).
It was a great show, and I got to spend some quality family time with my dad.
Pictured- Metric. Not Pictured- my dad.
The venue wasn’t too far from my apartment at the time, maybe a ten minute drive, tops. Thank God. Because around minute nine of the drive home…things started to go sideways.
The feeling of “I have to let something out of my bowels…and I don’t think I can keep it in” is primal. It’s raw. It’s brutal.
And listen. I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life. But soiling myself in my own father’s car a minute away from my apartment after a night of free Indie Rock, IPAs and sushi was a mistake I long knew I would not want to make.
So I clenched. And I struggled. And I sweated. And I made it.
Mostly.
As my father, responsible for my creation, supporter of my life and a true reason I’ve made it as far as I have, dropped me off in front of my home, I waved a thank you, gave a hearty thumbs up, and waited for him to amble on home back to the suburbs of Chicago.
Then the true journey started.
Thankfully, at the time I lived on the first floor of a three-flat apartment, so I didn’t have a lot of steps to climb. But, as I got to the door…gravity took its hold. I was powerless. All I could do was try to make it the 40 feet from the front door to the bathroom to assess the damage. And probably take a shower.
My roommate, I should point out, went on about five dates a week with different people at the time. So, of course, as I waddled in…he was watching the show Planet Earth with a potential paramour sitting next to him.
Let’s talk about this moment of shame. Let’s talk about what happened to my body. And how it felt.
I managed to avoid having to have a… unique conversation with my father. That was good. But as I clenched my cheeks, it eventually became apparent that I was not going to win the fight. And…I lost. My shame wasn’t an intense amount. But at a certain point, the weight doesn’t discount the act.
And so when I got to walk in to see an unexpected additional person sitting on my couch as I waddled by with a few ounces of wet waste wreaking havoc on my jeans, I clearly was not having a good time.
I pray you never have to spend three minutes trying to walk with feces in your underwear, desperate to clean yourself up, as the person living with you tries to impress a potential romantic interest, all narrated by the dulcet tones of Sir David Frederick Attenborough.
I meekly said my “hello” to this woman who I would (thankfully) never see again before somehow making it to the bathroom and immediately turning on the shower. The pants, and everything else, didn’t make it. The trash cans were just outside of the bathroom door, so I did what I had to do.
I don’t think my roommate had a single clue. His date might have. But she was nice enough not to say anything.
The concert was awesome. I had a lovely night with my dad. But I did have to spend $40 dollars on a new pair of Levi’s.