Riffs, memory, and a sense of self

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I remember this day.

According to the timestamp on the video, it was more than six years ago. Two months shy of your 15th birthday.

It was late in the afternoon – I recall getting off the couch to the buzz of your amplifier… By the time I reached your room, you had already programmed the loop — I had walked in with my camera, sat on your bedroom floor, and started recording.

You play for almost 12 minutes, at times oblivious to my presence — passionately engaged in the endeavor, beautifully lost in your music — but every now and then (as shown in this clip), you play a riff or come across a note that surprises and delights you.

I love that.

I remember posting the video later that day to YouTube — the entire 12 minutes — and how mad you were at me for doing so. I took the video down immediately. As I recollect, I was angry at myself — and I remember feeling agitated at how everything had turned out.

Looking back, I realize that day was a bit of a crossroads for us, a realization that you were coming into your own, and sharing that video without your permission was a clear case of parental overreach — an infringement on your sense of self.

I’m not sure I ever apologized in a meaningful way.

Sorry about that, Jake. 🙂

For years I had no idea where the 12-minute video was. First, I was disappointed at myself for misplacing it – an irritating reminder of how scatterbrained I can be. Then, I began to think it was gone forever, that perhaps I deleted it inadvertently.

Only a few weeks back, I came across the full video on an external storage device.

Thanks for letting me share a snippet some six years later, on your birthday.

Dad.

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