The Decisions a Man Makes

My wife and I found out several weeks ago that she is pregnant.  Save the condolences; this is a joyous occasion.  But it has really hammered home the concept of being an adult.  And I'm not taking it very well.

Being an adult has many perks.

-For my five-year-old it means that Daddy can play adult video games like Arkham Asylum and God of War III.
-For my mother it means she doesn't worry about me quite as much as she used to.
-For my father it means he can see a man he has helped shape begin to mold himself into his own entity.
-For my wife it means she can feel safe for herself and her family knowing her husband can handle any crisis life may throw at us.
-For my bandmates it means I seem a bit more flaky about practice times and late nights.

But what does it mean for me?

I feel old.  You know that annoying question everyone asks when they find out it's your birthday? Do you feel any older?  Yes I do.  Thanks for bringing it up, Asshole.

That's what being an adult means to me.  Feeling older.

-You're an adult when each new birthday takes you further away from your childhood instead of closer to being grown-up.
-You're an adult when you participate in conversations about 401Ks and life insurance and don't speak in future tense.
-You're an adult when you realize that everyone who told the eight-year-old you that you could be anything you wanted to be when you grew up were all full of shit.
-You're an adult when you finally start to loosen your grasp on the hope that all your dreams can still happen.

That last one is what hit me this year.  I have been obsessed with music for as long as I can remember.  I still remember the first time I heard a truly great song:  Elton John - Rocket Man.

I was raised on country and church music.  There's nothing intrinsically wrong with either genre.  But country has almost always reveled in it's willful ignorance.  And church music is immune from criticism, even if it's terrible.  If you say anything bad about either one then you're either a pretentious asshole or you don't believe in God, neither of which is inherently true, but occasionally both are spot on.  It has recently reached that point when talking about the president or soldiers serving overseas.  Being anti-war or anti-Obama has somehow come to equate being anti-patriotic, or anti-American.  Flight Surgeon Horse Shit.  Does being pro gay marriage make me gay?  Does being pro choice make me a pregnant woman?

But I seriously, seriously digress.

Childhood.  Elton John.  Rocket Man.

I'm sitting at my father's house doing god-knows-what after watching a college football game.  For some unknown reason my dad starts talking about music and suddenly realizes that I'm being deprived of decades worth of classics.  He drags out the turntable and cracks open the cabinet to reveal his collection of vinyl. (For the kids in the audience, these are the giant black discs that only people still concerned with sound quality still listen to.)  He tosses on his Elton John greatest hits album and carefully places the needle near the second set of grooves and proceeds to cause a musical revolution in my ears.  From that moment on all I ever wanted to do with my life was be a musician.  I didn't care about being rich or famous.  I just wanted to be able to make enough money playing music so that I didn't have to get a real job.

Flash forward ~15 years and you'll find a married, father, homeowner, college graduate working a job where he's under-utilized, under-appreciated, and under-paid.  Wait...what the hell happened?

But every bit of that is fine as long as your dream is still alive.  As long as you can make fun of your situation because it will be funny to look back on when you're living your ideal life, then you're fine.  But once your belief that you will achieve your dreams begins to falter, even for a second, then you're screwed.  Every day that passes pigeon-holes you into a little niche in life that becomes your inescapable label.

[Side Note: Today's post brought to you by the letters E, M, & O, with a soundtrack provided by The Cure.]

But watching your childhood dreams get curb-stomped by adulthood also provides you with a new perspective.

I love being a husband and I love being a dad.  I can't think of anything in life that is as difficult/frustrating/rewarding/awe-inspiring.

From my perspective, these are the decisions a man makes.  Family comes first. Dreams come second.  Both are important and both will brutally humble you.

Besides, living vicariously through your children makes the world go 'round.  Amirite pageant moms?