We are a typical family, Mom, Dad, two boys. I work part-time so that I am around for my kids, I was vice president of the PTA in school last year, and I am on the board of directors of my kids swim team.
We live in a lovely little urban neighborhood where it is possible for my kids to play outside by themselves and they know many of the names of the dogs and owners who pass our house on their way to the park and we are not beyond a “deck night” with the neighbors. All just ordinary stuff, the only thing that makes us different is my husband and I are in a hardcore punk band together.
The band was active in the 90’s and we spend the better part of a decade on the road until I discovered I was pregnant at the ripe age of 38. After the band had fiery break up, I moved on with the guitarist to marriage, parenthood, and middle age.
Suddenly, in 2013, after many years, a documentary filmmaker put us all in the same room in the first time in over a decade. By mid-2014, the band members and I were speaking regularly again and healing our relationships. We had a grand reunion show. We have been playing often ever since after replacing the bass player who moved on with love to pursue other endeavors.
The band only works because the bass player and the drummer understand the kids have kid things like sports, birthday parties, and events. We schedule around the kids and rarely miss a rehearsal. The kids support us and are at all those rehearsals. It is our family and it works for us.
At the end of this long and nasty winter, an old friend and I were chatting on Facebook. It was 3am. I had just gotten home from my bartending shift. He used to live in the same city but now lives in western Canada. He used to book tours for bands and now he is a concert promoter. I was telling him all about the band adventures and fateful words popped on the screen, “You need to go on tour.” At that moment I was sold. YES, we need to go on tour. The next day I convinced my husband it was the best usage of his vacation time, knowing he would in fact, follow me and this dream across the country like he always has.
We decided that night that I would book part of the tour and my friend would book some of the dates to help me out. I had booked many tours in my day, so I was not afraid of trying. But, I was wondering who would want a band whose heyday was in 1996, playing at their club. I was happily surprised at how easy it was to book the tour. Back in the day I had to pick up the telephone and call the club promoters. Now, I can message promoters from Facebook or email them from anywhere I was via my smart phone. I have had email and message conversations with promoters as I worked at my bar job, volunteered at my kid’s school, at swim team, in parking lots, the grocery store, waiting rooms at doctors offices, and even from the comfort of my own bed.
At times I felt crazy intimidated, wondering who wanted to see a band full of middle-aged people playing punk. Other times, I felt gloriously powerful and certain I could make this happen as a middle-aged person with two kids and a full life.
It’s done and we are all ready to leave. Our oldest, Ryan, who is nearing twelve opted to come with us. My youngest, Aaron who just turned ten, emphatically did not want to come. He is off on his own adventure of day camp in my sister’s neighborhood and time with her family. Ryan who has asked me about stories of the road since he was old enough to understand what the band and tour was, is coming with us. It’s summer vacation with our closest friends doing what we love.
Even though it’s not conventional, it should prove to be a grand adventure.
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