Another Adventure
A roadtrip, a song, a reason.
Hey everyone. Just checking in, as it has been a while. We (myself, girlfriend Kaci, Rosie, and her boyfriend Manny) went to Vernal for the anniversary of our dad’s passing on May 15 (yeah, it’s already been over a year). I had intended to post something about that then, but unfortunately I couldn’t muster the energy after the 10-day roadtrip that, at one point, found us broke down on the side of the I-40, about 100 miles east of Denver (I’ve found with writing, if you don’t strike while the inspiration is fresh, it’s hard to get back there).
Thanks to a broken serpentine belt, the dogs got to ride in the van on the back of the tow truck for two hours, and I got to spend Mother’s Day on a yoga mat under the van, in front of my buddy Steve’s Denver home, learning everything you’d ever want (or not want) to know about changing the serpentine belt yourself. But somehow, even losing a day to car trouble, we still made it to Vernal when we had intended.
It was a nice visit in beautiful Vernal spring weather. We spent some time relaxing at the property, made my dad’s dutch oven tamale pie recipe — those who attended CadyFest may have tried it — and went for a hike to the incredible McConkie Ranch petroglyphs, which we first visited last year.
I think it was a much-needed trip for everyone. And I gotta say, there is some significance to hitting the one-year mark in one’s grief. Nothing has been easy about this past year, but just before leaving for Vernal, a friend who had lost her mother the February before told me that something would lift after the anniversary, and sure enough it did, slightly. I can’t explain it, but that’s what happened. And while the readjustment to “normal” life has been difficult — I worked all winter to distract myself from the worst part of the grief, and now, find myself on the other end of the spectrum, out of work, and thinking too much about what everything means — the pain of the loss has lessened. I still miss my dad dearly, and think about him often, but in dreams, memories, songs, he’s always right there. So I guess I’m finding comfort in where he is, instead of focusing on where he isn’t.
Just earlier this week, I was on the way to a gig here in Nashville, and right before I arrived, the song “Drunken Poet’s Dream” by Ray Wylie Hubbard and Hayes Carll (two of my dad’s favorite songwriters), came on the radio (there are actually two versions — this was Ray’s). At that moment I wasn’t feeling great, and was not particularly excited about the gig, so I really needed to hear that song and be reminded of my dad’s reverence for music, a reverence he passed on to me — essentially, the reason why I do this (because believe me, it ain’t the money).
The gig wasn’t great, but I played a new song about my dad for the first time. I wrote it last year shortly after he passed, and it’s pretty straight forward, lyrically. I don’t have a recording of it yet, but I’m going to leave you with the lyrics (below). I’m working on more songs and some other writing related to my experience with this loss, and I’ll share more as soon as the inspiration strikes again. Thanks. -Jack
“Another Adventure”
My old man, he knew how to live
And when he died, he showed us how to live
He pulled the trigger, and went away
On another adventure, not so far away
When I look up, at the sky at night
And see all of those stars, burning so bright
I hear his words — we’ll be ok
He’s on another adventure, not so far away
My old man, he loved rock ‘n’ roll
Once said that Dylan was a part of his soul
The day he died, we laid in bed
Listening to Ray Wylie and The Dead
When I look up, at the sky at night
And see all of those stars, burning so bright
I hear his words — we’ll be ok
He’s on another adventure, not so far away
My old man, he got some bad news
Despite all that, he never got the blues
He pulled the trigger, and went away
On another adventure, not so far away…
P.S., If anyone wants to actually hear my music, my band’s latest album just came out on vinyl and is available by clicking here.