Completely (Un)expected

  "This button turns on the stage left microphones. This slide here controls the treble, and this one's for the bass levels."

My dad had been a sound board engineer for as long as I can remember and he'd been in love with music way before I was even a thought. He loved messing around with sounds and making each minute of every tune perfect and sounding as clear and kick-ass as possible.

Because of his crazy occupation, there was little room for normalcy in our lives. We'd both traveled all across the country, going to different clubs and venues that my dad was to operate the sound board in on any given night. I traveled with him, mostly during the summer when I didn't have school, though the occasional week taken off during the year to go out to Washington or California was not uncommon.

"What's that do?"

"That'll jack up the volume on guitar-" he paused a moment and picked up the wire with a small white tag attached to it. "number three."

My dad's work always interested me. I'd been a musician since the day I could hold a pair of drum sticks and having a dad who worked in such cool venues with people who made some of the best music I'd ever heard was the coolest perk I think I could have been blessed with.

I always tagged along to the shows my dad was working. He never minded that I was there and though for a while I'd stay back with him and the board, eventually I'd end up wandering off to sit up front, go backstage or, if I was feeling extra daring, sneak out for a quick smoke.

I liked to think that my dad enjoyed having me tag along with him. He never complained and it's not like I ever got in his way. He'd show me what everything did on this brand or that make of sound board and I'd retain the knowledge for all of a minute before I was back to asking questions again. These nights were some of the best of my life, and I couldn't believe this would be my last.

Travel had never been too far or lasted for too long that my dad couldn't take me along with him. Every once in a while I'd be alone at the house for a few days or even up to a week while my dad was doing a few gigs and didn't want me missing a lot of school, but he'd always come back before I could miss him too much. This time, though, it would be different.

It was August. The club was hot and humid but still had a cool vibe to it. There were red and blue lights illuminating the stage where a local band was soon to be jamming out to hard, Jersey rock.

Officially, my dad and I resided in Pennsylvania, that is, when we weren't in some random motel room in Chicago or Minnesota. The last show of the summer was my last show period, or at least for the year. I was to be a senior in high school in just a few weeks and my dad had decided what was best for me wasn't my current scene.

I fought him on it 'till I turned blue, but in the end, daddy knows best. He was taking me on this last excursion into the 'glamorous' world of music before I was to be buckled down with my aunt, uncle, and two cousins in boring Belleville, New Jersey.

He had been scheduled on a once in a lifetime tour of some of music's biggest names, including one of Seattle's hottest new bands that was sure to be the next biggest thing in hardcore punk-rock. I was happy for him, but devastated to hear that I wouldn't be sharing the experience with him.

The tour was all across the country. It would hit Columbus and Indianapolis, Denver, and Las Vegas, and not to mention just about every other city in between. It was huge; one of the most 'anticipated alternative-musical endeavors of the decade,' as the press put it, and I was going to be missing out on the whole thing.

Being it next year was my senior year, my dad thought it would be best not to screw up my studying and chance at actually getting into a university by moving me around, preventing me from attending normal school. I'd suggested homeschooling, or 'tour-bus schooling' as I put it. He suggested sending me off to live with family. Family that I hadn't seen in years and was sure barely remembered me. The last time I'd seen my cousins, they were just breaking the toddler years, and seeing as we were all just about the same age, you could say it had been a while.