DEAR DEM BOYS: WARLORDS, SKATEBOARDS AND THE TITOS TENT

Dear Dem Boys,

I couldn’t really tell you what this past weekend at ACL meant to me.  That’s part of the reason I’m sitting down to write this now.  With the constant distractions (mostly memes) in this life, the practice of reflection can be glossed over too easily.  I’m writing this while I should be working, but I think that’s ok. Recently a few events have reminded me what matters in this life.

I love my friends so much.  I teared up just now thinking about how much I love my friends.  Constantly I am thinking about how badass, kind, talented and intelligent they are.  MOST importantly ~in my opinion~ how they always keep me laughing.….but also how we can run any dance floor, or get thrown off of any dance floor pending the temperament of the bouncers and bar staff. . . Still tears in my eyes.  

When we lost Jackson back in September my heart was broken.  I wasn’t lucky enough to claim him as one of my closest friends, but when I looked at his group of friends in college I always felt like they were a mirror image of our group two years younger (but also better at skating and art and cool shit).   I think this is why it truly breaks my heart.  I couldn’t handle losing one of you guys.  

I also saw myself (/aspire to see myself) in Jackson’s brother who marched into the funeral with his head down, choking tears back on a mission with an empty bottle of Sierra Nevada IPA and Jackson’s beat up, worn out skateboard.  Initially this confused me, but when I walked up to the open casket I found the beauty of those crucial items placed in Jackson’s arms.  His brother knew what he was about.  It wasn’t a Roth IRA statement and a bill from his monthly mortgage payment- it was a beer and a skateboard. He was presented perfectly strewn about, authentically and unabashedly himself.  I want to leave this life with a legacy of authenticity as Jackson did.  

Jackson’s life left me with so much.  He was reckless in the best ways and loved everyone.  That sounds like a half-assed comment but the dude actually loved everyone because he was the least judgmental, and therefore (coupled with his insane nicknames for everyone) the most welcoming guy of all.  I want to live less judgmentally and more recklessly like this.

I can’t really describe the feeling of walking out onto a stage in a tent at Zilker park to the roar of a crowd a few hundred deep, but it was special.  All these people want to share in something you helped create.  It means something to them.  Seeing old friends, new friends, family and strangers with huge smiles on their faces- seemingly more excited for you than you are for yourself; It’s an incredible feeling.  There was a buzz in that tent.  For a moment nothing else mattered but smashing the hell out of those drums.  And don’t screw up don’tscrewup don’t.  screw. up.  I had to play it cool on the outside because I was steady beaming on the inside the entire time.  So thankful. Only one thing could’ve made it any better. 

I wish Jackson was there.  

He would’ve been front row.  

Shit, more tears.  

I sit here writing instead of working because of what Jackson and ACL taught me.  People are good.  Humans are good.  Friends are all that matter.  Duncan Fellows has been so supported by a community of friends from the start it is unreal.  We would have never played at ACL had this not been the case. It was the people we shared this weekend with that made it so special. 

I felt similar things watching the premier of Adonis Complex- my friends came together to make something incredible and I was like a proud step-dad who, despite being a late addition to the family and adding no real value in raising the kids was pretty well liked and in turn felt included.  People were brought together.  

Let’s do more of this shit, huh boys?  Doesn’t have to be music or film- those are just two lameass examples!  Let’s rally around each other and grind for the stuff we’re passionate about.  Think about the real impact we could make in this world beyond indie pop rock and horror movies.  Let’s ask each other what we want to do and how we can support it.  I’ve felt the support, and it’s time to turn that around.

And we’ve all heard this before. It’s nothing new. But we are all here to remind each other what is good. Forgetful people need reminding and realigning. 

When I started writing this the idea was a eulogy for Dem Boys…  But then I realized we are all going to live forever despite the cigs we smoke and the beers we crush.  Sorry Mom and Dad (and the rest of my Doctorate family..not a brag, more of a dig at myself), but I wouldn’t take back any of the darts I’ve ripped with my boys because those are the darts that built the relationships that will matter when my black lungs are riddled with cancer and everyone** is sitting around my hospital bed laughing at Chad while he is still making fun of me for being from a stupid redneck town. 

**except T-Brad bc he died last week (it’s the year 2069) also from lung cancer which is why my body has decidedly become too feeble to go on.. just pull the plug, Doc.  I mean, Dad.**

In conclusion I:  I cannot wait until we are all rich.  I know it will happen, just not sure how yet.  Well- Bryce will colonize/monetize Mars first because he’s not a self-absorbed jackass like Elon, but the jury is still out for the rest of us.  Can’t wait to see it.  Then the rest of the world will be better off because we’ll throw the most lit and inclusive parties and everyone will hot tub until they shrivel up.  

Because friends are all that matter and Dem Boys knows that more than anyone.

In conclusion II:  Shit’s gotta change.