ME THREE MONTHS AGO

Me Three Months Ago: "Hey Mom I'm off for two weeks in the summer, wanna go hang in the city one day?  Maybe see a show or somethin?  Would be real nice to see you, ayuh."
Mom: "What a wonderful idea!  What shall we see, son?"
Me Three Months Ago: "Let's go see The Book Of Mormon.  Supposed to be awesome."
Mom:  "Oh no no, is that the one from the guys who do that show you like...South Park?"
Me Three Months Ago: "Yeah, South Park is awesome. They teamed up with the guy who did Avenue Q.  Avenue Q was awesome too.  Saw it twice."
Mom:  "No no no. That show is stupid and vulgar.  And wasn't Avenue Q the one with the puppets?  Harumph!  Harumph!"
Me Three Months Ago: "The Book Of Mormon got great write-ups, it's nominated for a bunch of Tony Awards, including Best Musical.  Believe the hype on this one.  South Park is insane, but it's great, it's clever.  Trey & Matt are geniuses, they speak truths about society in an over-the-top comic way.  It's a cartoon, but it's intelligent, thought-provoking stuff.  They also did a marionette movie that depicted puppet fucking and who can forget Cannibal: The Musical?  They have a strong resume!  Come on, it's gonna be awesome, let's go!"
Mom: "No, there's got to be something else we haven't seen."
Me Three Months Ago: "Mom we saw Jersey Boys, that was excellent.  Million Dollar Quartet was cool, too.  You know I'm down for anything musical, I even kinda liked Wicked.  Book Of Mormom is gonna be the best show we can see, I'm telling you.  It's gonna win Best Musical and then it's gonna be impossible to get tickets.  You know how these things work!  This is how I didn't get to see Young Frankenstein or The Producers!  And we're gonna get stuck seeing Footloose!  Trust me on this one!"
Mom: "Bah, humbug.  Yadda yadda farting yadda yadda oh my god they killed Kenny yadda yadda offensive."
Me Today: "Hey Mom, wanna go see Footloose?"

My mom is actually really cool.  She loves Jimi Hendrix, Prince, and took me to see Ferris Bueller's Day Off and all the Muppet movies.  She cries at the end of It's A Wonderful Life just like I do.  But you dropped the ball on this one, Mama.

In spite of our differences over the fundamental values of adult-oriented animated series (Mom dislikes The Simpsons too - shame on her), I owe a big part of my musical passion and (whatever sort of) career (you want to call this) to my parents.  They sat me at the piano, they bought me my first drum set, and at least 3 keyboards, including the dinosaur Korg-01/WFD sequencing keyboard that I wrote about 200 songs on, including a lot of songs that would show up on the first Q*Ball album (remember that?).  They surely cringed in horror as I sang along to Vulgar Display Of Power, the first Mr. Bungle album, and Paul's Boutique on repeat at extremely high volumes.  They put up with the noise (sometimes) and the musical congregations in their basement and in my broom closet of a room, where giant samplers and analog synths first ran amok, overtaking furniture, surrounded by a fort of books, toys, heavy metal magazines, and compact discs.

I don't hate my parents for unwittingly cursing me into wanting to make it in a business run by cutthroats and pirates.  They were only being hippies.  I do wish that they owned my Return To Earth albums, though.  I could really use the money.  And so could Metal Blade.

Happy Anniversary to my awesome parents.  37 years of awesomeness in between all of life's bullshit!  Now go make some whoopee.