Right the Relation
I’ve come back to music. As awkward as that might seem for a drummist to say, it’s the truth.
I fucked up big-time a few weeks ago. Saying that, to me at least, is an understatement. There were moments of clarity throughout the evening , but all-in-all I was in the wrong. May I have been taken advantage of? Sure…haven’t we all, and I exploded like most of us want to in those situations. I felt GREAT when I did and even looking back the next day I felt the same. I saw myself valiant and composed, but the realization came two days later.
I was sitting on my couch, about to leave my family and friends (one in the same to me) on an airplane. The thought came to me that we only have so much time to really right our wrongs and at that moment I realized I was indeed wrong. It makes no difference if you’re right, especially if you’re wrong in trying to drive the road of justification; make it right, even if you think you’re making the best lap time. You may be seconds, minutes or even hours off the pace, but mind those bumps.
I made my phone calls and texts, many of which were of no response and rightfully so; I would’ve done the same. The responses I received were tried and true: “It’s cool, dude….I’ve been there” or “I’m glad you called…I had reservations” or “Let’s not talk about it again.” Certainly a multitude of binary reactions.
Thoughts of frustration, white-light-confusion and then solace resonated for the coming weeks. It’s a difficult emotion to explain because it holds all contexts close to heart. I’m not one to judge, at least publicly (although Hall and Oats are freaking FANTASTIC…I Can’t Go For That? pah-leeeze.). I take pride in believing that my family and friends have moxie; I’ll back that shit up any day of the week. My pride belongs to the people that surround me. My troubles lie in if they think the same way.
Should I care? Probably not. Do I care? Absolutely. That’s what family is.
