Last day visiting my dad’s side of the family.
This morning I awoke to hear my name interspersed with the Polish conversation and based on tone of voice, English words thrown in, and the few Polish words I recognize, it seems this was the general gist of the conversation between my father and his mother:
Starts with her trying to figure out what the fuck I do with my life.
My dad: Her life revolves around music. She spends all her time at her jam space working on music.
His mother: But doesn’t she have any friends?
Him: Her friends are all in music too.
Some discussion of my politics, finances, and investments follows, then:
Her: Doesn’t she have a boyfriend yet?
Him: Dunno, but she knows a lot of boys in bands.
This then leads her onto a rant about how when I was a kid, I was always buying music magazines at 7-11 and postering my walls with the pinups in them.
Her: Boys in bands always! Never Christ! Just boys in bands!
This would be a good time to point out that, like many other old Polish women, my grandmother thinks Jesus is the only acceptable pinup boy, and her walls reflect this. One could get quite sloshed making a drinking game out of wandering her house with a bottle of vodka and taking a swig every time you see Jesus; but you’d be dead of alcohol poisoning before you got upstairs. Hell, the massive Jesus tapestry that dominates her living room ought to be worth half the bottle.
And I maintain band posters are perfectly sane wall decoration for teenaged girls and even Tweens. Also, note that my choices were not pop tarts or manufactured boy bands but instead all hard rock guys. Y’know, the kind that play their own instruments and work their asses off building their band up to a national and international level.
Positively Ayn Randian, that. But apparently I get no points for the underlying entrepreneurial celebration.
Anyway, my jam space continues the tradition with 1 Rammstein poster, a NIN and a Bauhaus, plus 3 smaller Guns N Roses pics, a shot of Andy McCoy from Hanoi Rocks splayed out in his backside mid-solo, the Rolling Stones logo, a couple Aerosmith posters (1 of which is an old “Only a Gibson will do” ad featuring Joe Perry I got off EBay), and smaller postcards and other misc. items from the likes of Front Line Assembly, iVardensphere, Boyd Rice, and I’m probably forgetting others.
No Jesus.
But then I’m not Christian so why would there be?
My father opted to not bring that up, instead reiterating that “Yeah, well, Pyra’s life is all about music.”
Things then inexplicably turned to a discussion of my car before turning to a discussion of my brother’s ex-wife. (Phew!)
Catching an afternoon flight home to my guitars and gear and the “boys in bands” back in the jam space.
PS: no Vampire’s Ball tonight, I believe Abe is filling in for me. Show returns next Wednesday night 1-4am after the Hans Von Kloss Misery Hour on CiTR 101.9fm in Vancouver, CiTR.ca.
