I was cleaning up out in the garage one day, when I came upon Dylan’s first guitar amp. It was still labeled as it was after the last time he used it playing a talent show in junior high. Sometimes I would really get into the things he was playing and this one such time. As he was practicing for the show, I would tweak all the settings on this little amp. I was more thrilled about the prospect of making a statement that Dylan was as I kept telling him “play it again”, so I could tweak it some more. I would ask him, “that sounds better, right?” Most the time, he didn’t have an opinion or would quietly utter a “yeah.” Once all my amateurish tweaking was done, I cranked it up as far as I could before it started distorting beyond what was intentional. Once satisfied, I created the label with the settings and his name. Then, I told him, “this is where you leave it. Ok?” “Ok”, he said quietly. I’m pretty sure, I was just making him nervous while I was excited to see how he did.

Sure enough, he went up there, made sure the settings were as labeled and played. At first, I think he was suprised by how loud it sounded and might have had an impulse to run over to the amp and turn it down. Probably way down. But he kept going. Despite his clear nervousness and stoic posture during his performance, he killed it. He did a great job. He really did. And he put up with my input as well.

I miss you, son.