Queen of Punk

As I have written in the past, I love my daughters affinity for the hard and loud music that I have loved since childhood.  Perhaps one day her taste will change but I plan to ride this train as far as I can.  I encourage her by playing new things for her and by taking her to as many shows as I can.  Not only is it fun to watch her reaction but also to watch the reaction of the bands and those around her.  It's not every day you see a 6 year old going nuts at a punk rock show.

Such was the case Saturday night as I took Caelyn to The Knitting Factory in Brooklyn to see Habibi, Bleeding Rainbow, The Black Belles and Bleached. The Knitting Factory is perhaps my favorite venue to see a show.  Not only is it a smaller space so there is no bad spot to watch a show, it has a great sound system that literally can vibrate the building.  Also, they are all ages which is very important when taking a first grader to a rock club.

Caelyn started asking if it was time to go around 10 am.  Considering the doors didn't open until 7, I had to tell her no.  She didn't take it well and wanted to know why concerts were at night because she was ready to go now.  It was the "Are we there yet?" dynamic for most of the day.

Fortunately, it did "finally" get to be time to go.  When we arrived at The Knitting Factory, the bartender from the concert space was out front and greeted us.  We have gotten to know him from previous shows and he makes a fuss over Caelyn.  He is also the one who told me I could have her sit on the stage so I didn't have to hold her up the entire time.  Needless to say, we like him a lot.

While waiting online to get in, I witnessed the power of Caelyn's personality once again.  We started talking to those around us and they were all interested in what the little girl in the Sonic Youth shirt thought of the bands.  She confidently held her own and talked music.  Occasionally, she would see members of The Black Belles roaming around and get really excited to see them much to the delight of those on line.

When we got in the concert space, Caelyn moved to stake her place on the stage where she grabbed a seat.   She spotted Olivia from The Black Belles near the bar and had to go say hi.  After talking to her for a bit, Caelyn returned to her spot on the stage.  Shortly after talking to Olivia, one the guys we were talking to while waiting to get in, came over carrying a vinyl copy of The Black Belles album he had bought for Caelyn.  She was thrilled.

Caelyn sitting on the stage waiting for the show to start.

First up was Habibi, a local all female band who was a lot of fun to watch.  Next was Bleeding Rainbow whose Sonic Youth like wall of noise filled the place. Then came the band, Caelyn was most excited to see, The Black Belles.

Apparently we were not the only ones there to see them as the place had filled up during Bleeding Rainbow's set and there were around a dozen photographers near the stage, four of whom had decided to hang out near us.

The photographers watched the little girl on the stage and smiled as she got excited watching The Black Belles set up their gear.  Finally the show started and Caelyn went nuts.  She was up and down unable to stay seated.  She was yelling and singing and stomping her feet.  Almost all the photographers stopped shooting pictures of the band and turned their lenses toward Caelyn who was oblivious to anything other than the band and their music.

Olivia smiling at Caelyn.

When they ended their set, Olivia brought the set list over to Caelyn and gave it to her. Then we were besieged with questions.  The photographers wanted to know who Caelyn was and her age.  Audience members asked if her mom was in the band.  A photographer from CMJ showed me pics she had taken of Caelyn, arms raised with the band in the background.  Another photographer from Brooklyn Vegan asked if she could get a shot of Caelyn with the set list for their site.

I told them about Caelyn affinity for a screeching guitar since before she could crawl (true story, The Distillers calmed her when she had colic) and how she would not listen to anything in the car but The Ramones for 2 years without getting upset.  All the while, people kept coming up to say hi to her.

As Bleached got ready to take the stage, the DJ played a Ramones song and heads snapped in Caelyn direction.  She was bouncing and hitting me to the beat of the song.  Finally, Bleached took the stage.

They played a blistering set.  The bass player kept walking to the front of the stage and was so close Caelyn could have played his guitar without fully extending her arm.  She was all smiles and once again, could barely contain herself.  A mosh pit broke out behind us and Caelyn screamed in excitement.

Watching Bleached

When Bleached left the stage Caelyn spotted a guitar pick that the bassist had dropped.  She looked at me and I told her she could get it.  When they returned for the encore, she got the bass player's attention and gave him the pick.  When the encore was over, the bassist walked up to Caelyn, took her hand and placed the pick in it.  She was beaming.

After the show eneded, we made our way to where the band merchandise was being sold stopping frequently to talk to people who wanted say hi to Caelyn.  Over at the merchandise table, I was handed a Bleached shirt by the person selling their gear.  It was a present for Caelyn.

Olivia and Shelby of The Black Belles were there too and Caelyn started talking with them.  She took a couple of pictures when Shelby suggested Caelyn wear Olivia's hat for a shot.

Wearing Olivia's Hat

It was then time to go but Caelyn had more fans to meet.  While waiting on the coat check, one
of the moshers came up and told me Caelyn going crazy up on the stage was the coolest thing he'd seen all night and asked if he could get her picture.  The the women with him had to get their pictures with her also.

On the walk back to the car, Caelyn was basking in the glow of the show and all the attention.  She looked up at me and said, "Daddy, maybe I was born with punk.  I think maybe I was born to be the Queen of punk."

The Check Up

Today started like any other. Maybe I woke up a little earlier than most but I woke up well so that was OK.  I got out of bed, ate breakfast in front of the t.v. and then I got dressed.

Shortly after getting dressed is when the day went wrong, horribly wrong.

The man came into the room. He was bigger and faster than me and so much stronger. I fought hard but really never had a chance. Before I knew exactly what was going on, he drug me out of my house and into the cold.  He forced me into the back of a car where he used shackles to keep me immobilized. This was not good.

He drove for a while never once showing any emotion or interest in the cries coming from behind him.  He just drove.

Finally we arrived at a house.  I noticed nothing that stood out about it as I tried to get my bearings and formulate a plan of action.

He whipped open the door next to me and effortlessly took off the shackles.  As he drug me from the car toward the back door of the house, I should have yelled and tried to get away but my mind couldn't process what was happening.  How could this be?  Why was he doing this? Was it really only half an hour ago that I was safe and warm in my home blissfully unaware of the dark turn this day would take.

We entered the house and he drug me down a hallway where a woman sat calmly awaiting my arrival.  She was attractive and in another situation I would have been happy to meet her but there was something unsettling about her.  It didn't take me long to figure out that behind the pretty exterior was the heart of a sadist.  I don't like to think about what she did to me but it was unpleasant and when she was done, it was all I could do to hold back the screams.

Finally she led my captor and I to another room.  The room was a bit smaller than the first one.  The lights were very bright.  There were a couple of chairs, some sort of table and a counter but not much else.  My captor forced me into the chair nearest the door.  That was when I heard the screams.

The were horrible.  Loud, high pitched piercing screams came to me from down the hallway. I didn't know what was being done to create those screams, I just hoped that whatever it was would not happen to me.

I was left alone with my captor.  How long for, I don't know.  It could have been minutes or hours but it seemed like an eternity.  I thought about running but there was no where to go and no where to hide. So I sat quietly listening to the screams and saving my strength for the fight to come.

I didn't know what they had planned for me but I was not going down without a fight.  I would make them pay for taking me from my home.

Finally a man walked in.  He spoke kindly with my captor but I could see the sadism in his eyes.  I was struck cold with fear.  The man ordered my captor to strip me down to my underwear.  He then forced me down on the table.  I fought as hard as I could but my captor was too strong.  He held me still as the sadist shined bright lights in my eyes and pushed painful pointed objects in my ears and mouth.  I was helpless.  There was nothing I could do so I settled for yelling every nasty thing I could think of at them.  Finally, the man left and I was once again alone with my captor.

I was given back my clothes but not allowed to leave.  Eventually, the sadistic woman from earlier returned carrying the biggest needle I had ever seen.  I realized in horror that she intended it for me.  My captor held me down as she jammed the needle in my leg. I howled in agony.

Over my cries of pain, I could hear my captor thank the nurse as she left. After her departure, I was allowed to leave.  As my captor, my father, led me down the hall, I asked him if I could get a lollipop.

Portrait of an Artist as a Young Girl

She stared down intently at the paper before she started.  Watching her, it looked as if the paper was talking to her.  Finally, she started to work.  She put some words here.  She drew some pictures there.  The birthday card started to come together. When she finished she wasn't quite satisfied.  Something was missing.

She left and returned with some more paper and proceeded to make a pop up door to cover the picture on the front.  Then, it was finished.  The birthday card was ready to be presented to her friend later in the day.

My wife and I have often spoke about how creative our daughter is.  She loves to draw and paint.  She loves to write songs and perform.  She loves to make up stories.  Basically, if it involves creativity, she is interested.

However, as I watched Caelyn create the birthday card, it became clear to me that my daughter was an artist.  Creating art (whether it be a picture, story or song) is not just something she does for fun.  It is part of who she is.  I don't think she could stop creating if she wanted to.  It is in her nature.

One Sunday morning as we were getting ready to go to church, I heard Caelyn in the kitchen.  She was writing a song she wanted to sing for our friend who is the church music director.  She would sing a line.  Pause.  Sing it a little differently. Pause. This pattern would continue until she was satisfied with the line. Only then would she write it down.  This continued line by line until she was comfortable with the song in it's entirety.

The other day at a restaurant, Caelyn was distraught that they were low on crayons and she only received two colors. She worked on a picture for a while and finally quit.  A little upset, she looked over at me and explained she couldn't get the picture she wanted because she didn't have the colors she needed.

Caelyn is also an avid consumer of artistic endeavors of all types whether they be music, movies, TV, books or paintings.  She shocked me one day while watching a show on t.v.  She noticed a painting in the background.  "Is that a Jackson Pollock?" she asked.  A closer look by me and I had to admit, if it wasn't, it certainly looked like one.

She is constantly looking for an explanation as to why the characters in the books she reads or shows she watches do the things they do.  When it comes to music, she wants an explanation of what the song means.  Not content with that, she will ask what the singer meant by using specific words.

And of course there is the live music that she consumes as if obsessed.  It doesn't matter if it is a crowd of forty thousand or 4, she wants to see it.  She asks almost daily if she can see this band or that band when they come through.

She gets noticed at these shows too.  Multiple times I have been approached by people at shows with ties to a rock camp for girls in Brooklyn.  At a recent show at the Knitting Factory, Caelyn and I were hanging out with an all female band named The Coathangers when a woman gave me the number of a another woman who teaches girls to play rock music. The instructor in question has her own studio in Greenpoint and plays in a band with Kathleen Hanna from Bikini Kill.

It is amazing to watch the reaction of the female musicians to Caelyn when she is at their shows.  They see something in her. They spend time with her talking about music and they don't talk down to her when they do.  They encourage her to play even one time pointing to the Knitting Factory stage and saying they expect to see her up their in 10 years.

I don't know where her interests will lie in 10 years or further along the road.  One thing I am certain of though is for her to be happy, she must create.  I hope and pray she never tries to bury that creativity for it is truly a gift.

Me and Irene

Having grown up in Houston, I am not unfamiliar with hurricanes and tropical storms.  I can still vividly remember category 3 Alicia that hit us when I was 13.  It was an amazing and awe inspiring sight.  We watched the massive storm through the large plate glass window in the living room.  We went outside as the eye passed over us and felt the amazing calm inside of it.  Then it was back inside for the rest of the storm.

People on our side of the street lost power for days.  Interestingly enough, our neighbors across the street never did but their phones went out.  Our phones never stopped working.

For close to a week, there would be extension cords running across the street up and down the block so people on our side of the street could keep the refrigerators running.  Our neighbors would come over to use the phone.

It was with memories like these that I went about preparing for Hurricane Irene as she made her way up the east coast.  She too was supposed to be a category 3 and I remembered full well the damage one of those could do.

However, while I was nervous, I wasn't scared. We are far enough inland that we don't have to worry about storm surges.  There are no rivers around to overflow their banks but we do have trees, very large trees and we have skylights.

With there being nothing I could do about the trees or the skylights, my thoughts turned to our basement.  While I have no proof of it, I believe there is an underground river that runs under our home.  As a result, when we get water in the basement, it comes up though the floor.  And when the ground is saturated, it can get pretty bad, pretty quick.

My plan was to stay up throughout the night to monitor the water pumps we have down there.  For most of the night, one pump was able to hold the water at bay.  Then around 5 a.m. it started getting bad.

Water was running in so quickly that even with both pumps going they were unable to bring the water level down.  They held it steady for a while then slowly the water began to creep up.  I prayed the power would not go out.  If we lost power, it was over.  Our water heater and our boiler would both end up in the rising water.

Fortunately, the lights stayed on and the water level rose only as high as the bottom of the water heater when Irene finally left. A half of an inch more and it would have taken water.

As I watched the news coverage late Saturday morning, I could hear the water pumps still pushing out the water.  I saw pictures of homes and cars washed away.  I heard stories of people who were killed.  I saw the water covered streets and I knew I was fortunate.

We never lost power.  None of our trees fell over.  Our home and more importantly, our family was safe.  I was tired. I had been up all night when all I wanted was to get some sleep but what I thought about was how blessed I was to have the health and strength to stay up all night. 

It was a long, rough and sometimes nerve wracking night but we are very fortunate.  So many others are not.

Playing at Being an Only Child

This week my daughter is in Washington D.C. with her Grammy, Grampa, Aunt Melina and cousin Kali.  She left on Sunday and is not due back until tomorrow.  This is quite a trip for her.  It is the longest she has ever been away from her mother and I.

It is also the longest our two kids have ever been apart.  So far Caleb is making the most of it.

He adores his big sister.  There will be no one more excited about her return than him, but I think Caleb is enjoying playing at being an only child this week.  He has the house to himself.  He has full access to all the toys even the Barbies and princesses.  And he has mommy and daddy without having to compete with his boisterous older sister.

All this has added up to a much less volatile child.  In a previous post I wrote about how difficult and destructive my son can be.  I attributed it to his age.  This week has me wondering how much of it is his age and how much of it is trying to compete with his sister for attention.

Don't get me wrong, he is still a two year old boy and time out is a daily occurrence but there is a lot more down time for him.  He is using the time he would normally be pulling his sister's hair to play with his cars. 

And of course his sister is not here to antagonize him.  If he picks up a Barbie, it's not the one his sister absolutely had to have.  She does have a way of pushing his buttons and vice versa.

Normally there is a lot of activity going on around here.  Caelyn is usually bounding around the house and Caleb wants to be a part of it. Or Caelyn needs to be taken to school, or camp, or another class of some sort. It's all quite hectic. This leaves Caleb in constant motion and never in charge of his own schedule.

But for now, without his sister, he has the run of the house leaving him more relaxed than usual. Yesterday he took the first nap he has taken without just passing out on the floor in a long time.

Soon though, his sister will return and I expect the volatility will as well.  But at least now I know that some of it is an attempt to get attention and maybe, just maybe, that will help me bring him back to a calmer state.

The Story I Was Told

As best as I can figure, I was in the car driving my son to the playground when it happened.  The earthquake yesterday that is.  I felt nothing as I drove along listening to my son get more and more excited as he figured out where I was driving to.

Shortly after our arrival at the playground I received a text from my wife telling me her building had been evacuated due to a possible earthquake but no one knew for sure.  There is a minor fault line under NYC and we occasionally will get a small tremor so I thought nothing of it.  My only reply to my wife was to ask if she was coming home early.

A few minutes after this I received a text from my sister-in-law Melina telling me they were all safe but their building had been evacuated.  This one got my attention.  You see, my six year old daughter was with Melina along with my niece and my wife's parents.  It's one thing to get a message from my wife about a building evacuation in Manhattan (a not uncommon occurrence) and another thing entirely to find out my daughter had just been through an earthquake.

I wasn't concerned for her safety.  I already knew they were OK.  I was however, very interested in what had happened and what specifically had gone on around my daughter and niece.  So I pulled up the information about the earthquake on my phone and read over it while my son played on the playground.

Later, when we got back home, I gave Melina a call to learn their story.  Here it is pieced together to the best of my ability from conversations with Melina, my niece Kali and my daughter Caelyn.

Caelyn, Kali, Melina, Grammy and Grampa were in the Natural History Museum of the Smithsonian looking at the earthquake display.  Melina pointed out the fault line running under California.  Caelyn asked her if there were any fault lines in New Jersey.  Melina told her there was not.

So there can never be an earthquake here then, asked Caelyn.  No, there can never be an earthquake here, Melina assured her.  They then went down to the basement to eat lunch.

Never say never.

As they were eating lunch, everything began to shake and small debris fell from the ceiling.  Some people started screaming.  Melina, Grammy and Grampa collected the kids and headed for the doors as the building was evacuated.  Caelyn told me she started to cry though Melina said she didn't really.  She just got close.

It was a chaotic situation on the street as everyone was being evacuated and no one had anywhere to go.  Eventually, they all made their was back to the hotel.  Caelyn, thinking earthquakes were a common occurrence in D.C. declared she would never come back.

As I spoke to the girls later that day, they informed me the worst part was that because the museum was evacuated, they didn't get to go to the gift shop.

In a Warped State of Mind

Earlier today I took the kids with me to Guitar Center to pick up a new stand that hopefully, my son won't be able to destroy.  While there my five year old daughter got upset with me for not buying her a new guitar that she fell in love with.  This has me thinking about her love of music and our trip to the Warped Tour almost two weeks ago in Scranton, PA. 

I am probably considered to old to be attending punk and metal music festivals but it was OK because between me and Caelyn, our average age was twenty two and a half.

While I didn't see everyone there, I do believe she was the youngest one attending.  I did see a handful of kids in the nine and ten year old range but no one came close to being as young and as small as Caelyn was.

I have to admit, I was a little nervous that maybe I had pushed my daughter a little too far this time.  She was excited to go. For weeks she had been demanding this band or that band be put on "the list" of bands she wanted to see as I played music for her. So I wasn't worried about her enjoying the music. That wasn't even an issue.

At the Skullcandy Stage for Pour Habit

I was worried because this event would be far larger, louder, hotter, more crowded, and rougher than anything she has been to before. And she is only five. Spending ten hours in the sun surrounded by sea of people can make anyone cranky, much less someone who hasn't even been to first grade.

As it turns out, my fears were totally without basis. Much like Punk Island a month or so ago, Caelyn was perfectly at ease with the noise and chaos. More than that, she thrived in it. The only conflict we had was when I wouldn't bring to the edge of a particularly rough mosh pit. She saw no reason for there to be anyone between us and it. I did and had to explain to her that I kept a couple of people between us and the pit because her getting kicked in the head would hurt.

Chaos for The Devil Wears Prada

There is no kiddie section at the Warped Tour. There are no bounce houses or areas geared toward small children. It's music, merchandise and food. Those are your options. And we hit all of those in abundance.

In no particular order we saw all or part of the sets of the following bands: Pour Habit, Set Your Goals, Woe, is Me, Go Radio, Moving Mountains, The Ready Set, The Expendables, MC Lars with Weerd Science, A Day to Remember, Paramore, Asking Alexandria and The Devil Wears Prada.

We also took home a lot of free and inexpensive Cd's, posters, stickers and some shirts. Caelyn was hitting every merchandise tent she could find and many them were giving her free stuff. She loves it when people give her things.

Caelyn's top three must see bands were Paramore, MC Lars and The Devil Wears Prada. Fortunately, there were no time conflicts so we got see all three of them. However, our experience with MC Lars was the best. Not only did Caelyn get to meet him on a couple of occasions during the day, he spent time talking with her and taking pictures. He even signed her hat writing on it that she was a rock star and drawing a picture. It now has become one of her prized possessions.

With MC Lars

Up Front for his show. She did get acknowledged from the Stage

We arrived that morning as the gates were opening at 11 am. As they day was ending around 9 pm, I still had one amped up kid.  She eventually fell asleep on the drive back to our friend's house where we were staying. Her mother and brother were awake when we arrived and as Caelyn started to recount the days events, she just got more excited.  Eventually, she went to bed but it took a long time.  When she finally did pass out, she slept the sleep of the exhausted and happy.  We both did.