Case,
Still thinking about yesterday's advice (http://www.casestudy718.blogspot.com/2012/05/wisdom-of-isbell.html), I wanted to add a few more of my thoughts on being your own man. I wrote this back near the end of my single, aggressively defiant days, and while I've changed a lot since then, my thoughts on phonies have not:
The line forms to the left
Followers and phonies
get in line and read the sign
All you bullshit artists
take your place; just pick a face
The line forms to the left
for your least resistant path
Lemmings in the front,
sheep in the baaaack
When you get up in the morning,
how does your persona work?
Do you switch it on and off?
Do you pick it like a shirt?
When you look into the mirror,
and you pause for great effect,
who is it you're hoping,
you're hoping to reflect?
Life is so much simpler
when you're copying off others
It's hard to be original,
not so hard to play a cover
Let others lay the groundwork
as you gripe and bitch and moan
Then co-opt a good idea
and parade it as your own
Followers and phonies
get in line and read the sign
All you bullshit artists
take your place; just pick a face
The line forms to the left
for your least resistant path
Lemmings in the front,
sheep in the baaaack
I'm a narcissistic loather
Most would say I'm pretty fucked
But for all my faults I'm real
I'm not making myself up
Not a one of us is perfect
in our houses made of glass
But I'll take the ones who throw stones
over those who would kiss ass
Followers and phonies,
the line forms to the left
Lemmings in the front,
sheep in the baaaack
Love,
Dad
Monday, May 28, 2012
Sunday, May 27, 2012
The wisdom of Isbell
Case,
I went to a Jason Isbell matinee concert the other day while you accompanied your mom to the grocery store. I can tell you as I type this that Isbell is going to be on the short list of artists and bands (along with Thin Lizzy, the Drive-by Truckers -- which begat Mr. Isbell -- Jack White, Gov't Mule, Joe Bonamassa and a couple others I'm likely overlooking or have yet to discover) that you will not be able to completely escape until you get a driver's license, as one of the cool things about being a parent is that I control the stereo. It also helps that I have the greatest musical taste of anyone in the world. Actually, while at some point you may consider the music I listen to "for old people" and mock me in solitude while trying to look cool in front of a mirror as you sing along to a song in an strangely memorable moment that will embarrass you any time you think about it for the rest of your life (No, I'm not speaking from experience, why do you ask? But if you find yourself in such a situation, it's best to lock the door.), you're a Pallister, which means as long as you have ears, you'll likely gravitate toward the good stuff in due time. Even the best aficionados have their regrettable moments, such as the Scritti Politti phase of 1984 and that ill-advised purchase of a Dead-Eye Dick cassette in the early '90s (I probably shouldn't have typed that).
Regardless of your personal journey toward musical enlightenment, I have a feeling, given my obsession with words and their many uses (a gift I cannot thank your Grandma Pallister for enough), that you will be similarly interested in lyrics. Isbell is a great lyricist -- a down-to-Earth musician whose intelligence and blue-collar philosophy make him a master songwriter. This is never more apparent than in his signature song, "Outfit," which he played a great acoustic version of at the aforementioned concert.
I gravitated toward the song, which is about a father's advice to his son, years ago. But now when I hear it, I think not only of my father, your Grandpa Pallister, but you, too. Much of the wisdom in "Outfit" is exactly the type of stuff your Grandpa stood for and made sure I understood at an early age: Don't call what you're wearin' an outfit/Don't ever say your car is broke/Don't sing with a fake British accent/Don't act like your family's a joke.
The song only lasts justs over four minutes, but it's worth a thousand years of wisdom, most notably the idea that you must be true to yourself. There are no great epiphanies in life, just a series of lessons that you must do your best to divine and learn from. And the greatest lesson in "Outfit" comes from the following verse: So don't let 'em take who you are, boy/and don't try to be who you ain't.
To put those 17 words in greater context: Be your own man, forge your own identity and never, ever be a phony. It's much easier in life to follow than to lead, and, if you ask me, it's often easier to lead than to walk your own path. That doesn't necessarily entail being a loner, but sometimes you have to believe in yourself when the world around you does not. The world is not set up for people who aren't afraid to be themselves. On a related note, don't purposely try to be different. Nothing is more common than "individuals" acting unique. Being your own man is not easy. It comes with many pitfalls. But when you arrive at the point of confidence which I mentioned a couple posts back ('Be proud') it'll be one of the more satisfying moments of your life.
Always remember, son, there is only one Case Austin Pallister, so don't let 'em take who you are, boy, and don't try to be who you ain't.
Love,
Dad
I went to a Jason Isbell matinee concert the other day while you accompanied your mom to the grocery store. I can tell you as I type this that Isbell is going to be on the short list of artists and bands (along with Thin Lizzy, the Drive-by Truckers -- which begat Mr. Isbell -- Jack White, Gov't Mule, Joe Bonamassa and a couple others I'm likely overlooking or have yet to discover) that you will not be able to completely escape until you get a driver's license, as one of the cool things about being a parent is that I control the stereo. It also helps that I have the greatest musical taste of anyone in the world. Actually, while at some point you may consider the music I listen to "for old people" and mock me in solitude while trying to look cool in front of a mirror as you sing along to a song in an strangely memorable moment that will embarrass you any time you think about it for the rest of your life (No, I'm not speaking from experience, why do you ask? But if you find yourself in such a situation, it's best to lock the door.), you're a Pallister, which means as long as you have ears, you'll likely gravitate toward the good stuff in due time. Even the best aficionados have their regrettable moments, such as the Scritti Politti phase of 1984 and that ill-advised purchase of a Dead-Eye Dick cassette in the early '90s (I probably shouldn't have typed that).
Regardless of your personal journey toward musical enlightenment, I have a feeling, given my obsession with words and their many uses (a gift I cannot thank your Grandma Pallister for enough), that you will be similarly interested in lyrics. Isbell is a great lyricist -- a down-to-Earth musician whose intelligence and blue-collar philosophy make him a master songwriter. This is never more apparent than in his signature song, "Outfit," which he played a great acoustic version of at the aforementioned concert.
I gravitated toward the song, which is about a father's advice to his son, years ago. But now when I hear it, I think not only of my father, your Grandpa Pallister, but you, too. Much of the wisdom in "Outfit" is exactly the type of stuff your Grandpa stood for and made sure I understood at an early age: Don't call what you're wearin' an outfit/Don't ever say your car is broke/Don't sing with a fake British accent/Don't act like your family's a joke.
The song only lasts justs over four minutes, but it's worth a thousand years of wisdom, most notably the idea that you must be true to yourself. There are no great epiphanies in life, just a series of lessons that you must do your best to divine and learn from. And the greatest lesson in "Outfit" comes from the following verse: So don't let 'em take who you are, boy/and don't try to be who you ain't.
To put those 17 words in greater context: Be your own man, forge your own identity and never, ever be a phony. It's much easier in life to follow than to lead, and, if you ask me, it's often easier to lead than to walk your own path. That doesn't necessarily entail being a loner, but sometimes you have to believe in yourself when the world around you does not. The world is not set up for people who aren't afraid to be themselves. On a related note, don't purposely try to be different. Nothing is more common than "individuals" acting unique. Being your own man is not easy. It comes with many pitfalls. But when you arrive at the point of confidence which I mentioned a couple posts back ('Be proud') it'll be one of the more satisfying moments of your life.
Always remember, son, there is only one Case Austin Pallister, so don't let 'em take who you are, boy, and don't try to be who you ain't.
Love,
Dad
Sunday, May 20, 2012
I report, you decide
Case,
This past Friday, your mom and I went to our first sporting event since your arrival. It was the Nationals vs. the Orioles.
In the course of our night out, I somehow managed, despite them literally being attached to me, to lose my keys on the Metro ride to the ballpark. And, on the way back, I was denied my wish that the drunken group of twentysomethings sitting behind us would either spontaneously combust or be struck as mute as they were dumb. All things considered, though, it was a good time. And it got me thinking about where your sports allegiances will lie.
Perhaps, you won't be a sports fan and will gravitate to other interests. OK, who are we kidding. You have two parents who are rabid sports fans. I'm not sure how much choice you'll have in the matter. Anyway, you can certainly choose whom you want to root for.
You'll know long before you are able to read this that I LOVE the Bears and I have a lesser, but still significant fondness for the White Sox. You'll also probably have to hear your mom talk all about the Broncos. Now you can root for the Broncos if you wish. I won't pressure you into screaming at the same 22 or so people for three hours each Sunday as I do. Of course, while it's never been proven that John Elway kills puppies, he's never denied it. So keep that in mind.
OK, back to baseball. Your mom doesn't have much of an attachment to any team, although she enjoys rooting for the Nats, especially Stephen Strasburg and Bryce Harper (let's hope, for the sake of the game, that when you read that sentence, you'll think, "Cool, those guys are awesome!"). If we stick around our current neck of the woods for a while, you'll be exposed to lots of Nats and almost as much Orioles, who play right up the road. Maybe you'll adopt one of them as your favorite team. Maybe you'll follow your dad and root for the only Chicago baseball team that has won a World Series since automobiles became popular (I'm not going out on much of a limb to assume that will still be true when you find this page).
Or, you may become a Cubs fan. There is precedent. Many, many Pallisters root mindlessly for them. Of course, the smart ones among us -- myself and your uncles Mark and Kenny -- know better. But, again, no pressure. If you decide to root for a bunch of losers who are partially to blame for global warming and completely responsible for the disappearance of Jimmy Hoffa (Google it!), I'll still love you. I'll mock you and taunt you from time to time, but I'll still love you. :)
In all seriousness, I hope you do root for a bunch of different teams, just so I can be exposed to the love of the game through your eyes. I can't think of many things that would be cooler for this lifelong sports fan. Aside from proof that John Elway doesn't kill puppies. Your mom doesn't need to live with that uncertainty.
Love,
Dad
This past Friday, your mom and I went to our first sporting event since your arrival. It was the Nationals vs. the Orioles.
In the course of our night out, I somehow managed, despite them literally being attached to me, to lose my keys on the Metro ride to the ballpark. And, on the way back, I was denied my wish that the drunken group of twentysomethings sitting behind us would either spontaneously combust or be struck as mute as they were dumb. All things considered, though, it was a good time. And it got me thinking about where your sports allegiances will lie.
Perhaps, you won't be a sports fan and will gravitate to other interests. OK, who are we kidding. You have two parents who are rabid sports fans. I'm not sure how much choice you'll have in the matter. Anyway, you can certainly choose whom you want to root for.
You'll know long before you are able to read this that I LOVE the Bears and I have a lesser, but still significant fondness for the White Sox. You'll also probably have to hear your mom talk all about the Broncos. Now you can root for the Broncos if you wish. I won't pressure you into screaming at the same 22 or so people for three hours each Sunday as I do. Of course, while it's never been proven that John Elway kills puppies, he's never denied it. So keep that in mind.
OK, back to baseball. Your mom doesn't have much of an attachment to any team, although she enjoys rooting for the Nats, especially Stephen Strasburg and Bryce Harper (let's hope, for the sake of the game, that when you read that sentence, you'll think, "Cool, those guys are awesome!"). If we stick around our current neck of the woods for a while, you'll be exposed to lots of Nats and almost as much Orioles, who play right up the road. Maybe you'll adopt one of them as your favorite team. Maybe you'll follow your dad and root for the only Chicago baseball team that has won a World Series since automobiles became popular (I'm not going out on much of a limb to assume that will still be true when you find this page).
Or, you may become a Cubs fan. There is precedent. Many, many Pallisters root mindlessly for them. Of course, the smart ones among us -- myself and your uncles Mark and Kenny -- know better. But, again, no pressure. If you decide to root for a bunch of losers who are partially to blame for global warming and completely responsible for the disappearance of Jimmy Hoffa (Google it!), I'll still love you. I'll mock you and taunt you from time to time, but I'll still love you. :)
In all seriousness, I hope you do root for a bunch of different teams, just so I can be exposed to the love of the game through your eyes. I can't think of many things that would be cooler for this lifelong sports fan. Aside from proof that John Elway doesn't kill puppies. Your mom doesn't need to live with that uncertainty.
Love,
Dad
Monday, May 14, 2012
I wonder
Case,
I wonder what you'll be someday
and what's the first word that you'll say
I wonder when you'll start to walk
and how we'll laugh in times we talk
I wonder where you'll gravitate
and what fun things will fill your plate
Those things you'll find that you will need
on which a hungry head can feed
I wonder if you'll play with words
or mimic many songs you've heard
I wonder if you'll lose yourself
in books that are your mother's wealth
I wonder how you'll speak your mind
with passion for the cause you find
I wonder when you'll take the stand
that starts the path from boy to man
I wonder of the days unknown
and memories to come
The reasons I'm alive today
I count 'em one by one
Forty years have brought me here
my work has just begun
I wonder as I sit inside the room in which you sleep
I wonder of the dreams you'll have and promises to keep
I wonder as I stare outside beyond our white front door
If I do my job, son, that world outside is yours
Love,
Dad
I wonder what you'll be someday
and what's the first word that you'll say
I wonder when you'll start to walk
and how we'll laugh in times we talk
I wonder where you'll gravitate
and what fun things will fill your plate
Those things you'll find that you will need
on which a hungry head can feed
I wonder if you'll play with words
or mimic many songs you've heard
I wonder if you'll lose yourself
in books that are your mother's wealth
I wonder how you'll speak your mind
with passion for the cause you find
I wonder when you'll take the stand
that starts the path from boy to man
I wonder of the days unknown
and memories to come
The reasons I'm alive today
I count 'em one by one
Forty years have brought me here
my work has just begun
I wonder as I sit inside the room in which you sleep
I wonder of the dreams you'll have and promises to keep
I wonder as I stare outside beyond our white front door
If I do my job, son, that world outside is yours
Love,
Dad
Be proud
Case,
Becoming a man is a long, sometimes difficult process. You'll find that it's rarely easy, and you'll spend your share of time wondering why you are the way you are (apologies in advance for my particular influence in such introspection). But, at some point, you will wake up and look in the mirror, and looking back will be a fully formed man -- of strong opinions and serious convictions -- who, despite his all-too-human faults, believes in himself. When that day comes, what you see won't be perfect, and it won't be without blame. But it will be you. In all your glory. When you finally see yourself, son, be proud.
Don't try to fend off your instincts and senses
No need to mend those artificial fences
Stand up real straight and walk tall
If they don't like it
Well, they don't matter much at all
Don't pretend to be the person you are not
Do not defend the quirks that you have got
Be your own man and have your say
If they don't like it
Well, you don't need 'em anyway
Plenty of people in this world
who will tell you how to act
what to do and what to say
even dress as a matter of fact
Sometimes it seems you'll never win
But remember you're the only one
who has to be comfortable in your skin
You don't care when they're staring
but you never cared to dance
You don't waste time on phonies,
never give them half a chance
You're measured in your dealings
but you'll sing a song out loud
You're happy in your element
Of all these things be proud
Plenty of people in this world
who will want to change your ways
where to walk and when to talk
even how you choose to spend your days
Sometimes it feels like fighting no more
But remember the face in the mirror
is the only one you answer for
You don't believe in fiction
and you play it by the book
You're not about to suffer fools
who don't deserve a second look
You're the center of attention
but yet you hide in crowds
You're finding peace in solitude
Of all these things be proud
You're impatient in the moment
but in no hurry to commit
You have no use for arrogants,
the pompous and half-wits
You're open to the future
but maybe not as you once vowed
You're not afraid to be yourself
Of all these things be proud
Don't try to fend off your instincts and senses
No need to mend those artificial fences
Stand up real straight and walk tall
If they don't like it
Well, they don't matter much at all
Don't pretend to be the person you are not
Do not defend the quirks that you have got
Be your own man and have your say
If they don't like it
Well, you don't need 'em anyway
Plenty of people in this world
who assume they know it all
why you drink and how you think
even those whose names you care to call
Sometimes you ask why you wear these scars
But when it's all said and done
ain't nothin' wrong with who you are
Love,
Dad
Becoming a man is a long, sometimes difficult process. You'll find that it's rarely easy, and you'll spend your share of time wondering why you are the way you are (apologies in advance for my particular influence in such introspection). But, at some point, you will wake up and look in the mirror, and looking back will be a fully formed man -- of strong opinions and serious convictions -- who, despite his all-too-human faults, believes in himself. When that day comes, what you see won't be perfect, and it won't be without blame. But it will be you. In all your glory. When you finally see yourself, son, be proud.
Don't try to fend off your instincts and senses
No need to mend those artificial fences
Stand up real straight and walk tall
If they don't like it
Well, they don't matter much at all
Don't pretend to be the person you are not
Do not defend the quirks that you have got
Be your own man and have your say
If they don't like it
Well, you don't need 'em anyway
Plenty of people in this world
who will tell you how to act
what to do and what to say
even dress as a matter of fact
Sometimes it seems you'll never win
But remember you're the only one
who has to be comfortable in your skin
You don't care when they're staring
but you never cared to dance
You don't waste time on phonies,
never give them half a chance
You're measured in your dealings
but you'll sing a song out loud
You're happy in your element
Of all these things be proud
Plenty of people in this world
who will want to change your ways
where to walk and when to talk
even how you choose to spend your days
Sometimes it feels like fighting no more
But remember the face in the mirror
is the only one you answer for
You don't believe in fiction
and you play it by the book
You're not about to suffer fools
who don't deserve a second look
You're the center of attention
but yet you hide in crowds
You're finding peace in solitude
Of all these things be proud
You're impatient in the moment
but in no hurry to commit
You have no use for arrogants,
the pompous and half-wits
You're open to the future
but maybe not as you once vowed
You're not afraid to be yourself
Of all these things be proud
Don't try to fend off your instincts and senses
No need to mend those artificial fences
Stand up real straight and walk tall
If they don't like it
Well, they don't matter much at all
Don't pretend to be the person you are not
Do not defend the quirks that you have got
Be your own man and have your say
If they don't like it
Well, you don't need 'em anyway
Plenty of people in this world
who assume they know it all
why you drink and how you think
even those whose names you care to call
Sometimes you ask why you wear these scars
But when it's all said and done
ain't nothin' wrong with who you are
Love,
Dad
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
Exhaust fumes, Thin Lizzy instead
Case,
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6HmHKwYRP9k&feature=related
Love,
Dad
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6HmHKwYRP9k&feature=related
Love,
Dad
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