Punk Music

so I had to do a research paper on punk music last semester. it was just an annotated bib with an opinion section after. i really enjoyed writing the opinion section so i decided i was going to post it so here it is.

Opinion

It all started at summer camp freshman year of high school. I was a little guy back then with not many friends. To this point of my life music wasn’t a big thing to me. I listened to some here and there but never had that connection personally. Then a friend was playing the New Found Glory album and I asked about it. To my surprised it opened a door into a whole new genre and experience with music. I connected to it, some of the songs and the lyrics it was like they were singing about me. Then came my first concert, NFG and H2O at The Electric Factory. And the obsession began and never faded, I still listen and go shows now at 34.

In the beginning of my research I thought punk music was a significantly new genre. I knew the Ramones started in the 70s but did not realize how much was done before them. Also, I did not know how the influence of punk spread from the US to Europe and back. I had listened and follow some bands that were politically charged but for the most part I listened to emo and emotional pop punk. Usually about girls that didn’t like me but I was infatuated with. It was cool to see how punk started as a political stance.

I had heard of bands like The Clash and the Sex Pistols but did not know much about them. To see how these bands started and how they become the voice for working class kids, kids like me that had trouble “making” it in the world. It really made me think back to lyrics of bands like The Offspring and Green Day, and I think I started to understand more what they were really talking about. They didn’t just have cool guitar rifts and drums but they also had a message.

One thing I found in my research that really stood out to me was all the subgenres of punk. To me there was hardcore, emo, pop, and ska. But to learn about Anarcho and Celtic punk was new to me. I have heard of bands like Flogging Molly and Dropkick Murphy’s but was not aware they had their own subgenre. I knew there was an Irish twist to it but had no idea that it incorporated Irish traditions and instruments. Cowpunk, which is a cross between country and punk is something that I have never heard of. But it’s real, and I may even take a listen one day. A cross between old country and honky tonk bands and with a harder punk edge is a wild concept to me, but you learn something new every day.

It was cool to read about how fashion and punk went hand in hand. Growing up in the punk scene I thought I was just wearing clothes, band t shirts and jeans. I never wore the black leather jacket but I had friends who could pull it off. No idea that was a trend started in the 70s by The Ramones. Knowing that punk fashion, spread from the US to Europe and other parts of the world is crazy to me. I was just a kid wearing what my favorite bands wore. I had no idea the influence it had all over the world.

My favorite part of researching the genre is the steady theme of attitude that comes along with punk music. It really does stand up to its name: PUNK! I loved the “we don’t care attitude” that came with punk rock. And reading and learning about its origins and how CNN wrote articles about how much it was hated and how it shocked the world, almost gave me a sense of pride. I loved that edge that came with the music and the lifestyle. I liked learning that it started in the 70 and was promoted with danger. Reading the quote from the CNN article about it promoting nothing but violence, sex, and destruction, and I imagine some snotty stuck up suit and tie writing it. And then I picture a young me with 2 middle fingers raised in a pit surrounded by a bunch of sweaty stupid kids dancing, moshing, and just having fun. Then I can see that edge, danger, and attitude that started with early version of punk and lasted throughout the years.

Punk music has left a major imprint on my life. As I sit here, writing this paper, headphones in ears listening to Senses Fail, wearing a Senses Fail tour shirt I realize how much of an impact it actually had on me. Punk isn’t just a type of music, its an attitude, a look, and a lifestyle. my favorite part of researching was seeing how the pioneers of punk were almost just like me. A bunch of kids looking for something new, looking for a voice, looking for a connection and I’m glad they found it. Because if they didn’t find it, I would have never been sitting in that cabin listening to my first punk album, and I don’t think my life would have ended up the same.

In my research, in the CNN article Punk Shocks the World it references a Time article and quote about punk music from the 1970s. I fell in love with this quote. This quote from the 70s still holds true today:

“In Tokyo, Chicago and Paris, kids are bumping, grinding, loving, hating, wailing to the loud, raucous, often brutal sounds of punk rock… Musicians and listeners strut around in deliberately torn T shirts and jeans; ideally, the rips should be joined with safety pins…. the hair is often heavily greased and swept up into a coxcomb of blue, orange or green, or a comely two-tone … The music aims for the gut.”

Regrets

In 2012 I was in Kandahar Afghanistan. It was my second deployment. Being a maintenance guy in country on f16s we don’t go outside the wire. We have computers and internet and ability to call home almost whenever we want. Work days could get hectic but it’s possible to find time to call home. After about 5 months one can get comfortable. Know I can call home whenever some days I just decided not to, because of pure laziness. I was 4 days from flying out of there. I figured I’d just call the day before I leave and the morning before take off and everything would be ok. But then in the middle of my sleep someone banged on my door hard. Scared the shit out of me I thought it was indirect fire that hit close. It was my buddy telling me I needed to call home. My mom picked up the phone, my dad was in the hospital and it didn’t look good. I packed a book bag and my first shirt found me a spot on a plane headed to Kuwait so I can fly to Vegas where my dad was living. Everyone worked so fast to get me out of there quickly but it didn’t matter he died before I even got out of Afghan.

I never talked to my dad, my best friend again. He never knew I made it home safe. I should have called home everyday. It’s only a couple minutes just to say hi and I loved him. I carried that cross around for a long time. Looking back now i went a little crazy. Between that and some hard time adjusting to being back home, I masked some shit with partying. Drinking coke girls anything to take my mind off it. I don’t think I really understood I was self medicating but it makes sense now. That was the biggest regret of my life, and I’ve done some dumb shit. Why the fuck didn’t I call home.

See what I’ve learned since I’ve become sober (mostly I’m prescribed marijuana but I’ll write about that another time) is you gotta let shit go. For years after I came home i was in such a fucked up place I was actually happy that my dad wasn’t here to see me like that. How fucked up is that I was actually happy my dad died. Crazy. But I’m starting to figure it out, the best thing I can do is let go of that regret and instead help my dad live on through me. Raise my son the way he raised me. My dad was always there for me I’m going to do the same for my son and daughter. I’m letting go of this regret and instead I’m gonna honor my dad in the way I live life now.

I can sit here and ramble off about 1000 regrets I have in my life. Everyone can everyone fucks up and everyone lives with some sort of guilt. But to me ranting about all the shit I fucked up is pointless. Mistakes, regrets, guilt it’s only bad if you don’t learn from it. A couple years ago, I partied like a rockstar in ac for a day and a half. I drove home fell asleep behind the wheel and wrecked my car. Should have been the worse thing to ever happen to me, and it sucked but I learned from it. I learned it’s no way to live life and that I was only hurting the people who loved me. So I stopped living that life, and became the man And father I am today. Outside of my son being born, that accident was the best thing to happen to me (that will become number 3 in feb when my daughter is born).

I’ve learned to train my mind and thing outside the box. Take what is given to me and make it better. Bad good or indifferent if you learn from it and change for the good then nothing is truly bad. This is not an easy concept to learn, and I’ll most likely never perfect it, but I’ll tell you the more I learn to do it and apply it to life the happier I am. So bring it on, and I’m sure I’ll keep fucking up but I’m done making the same mistakes over and over again. I’m done carrying that load and I’m done being unhappy. I’m gonna beat regret because I’m gonna learn from it and my life and the people around me will be better for that.

In conclusion I love you dad. I made it home safe and I’ll carry on your legacy and honor through me and my kids. You’ll live on forever through us.

Today I almost cried

I’m a grown ass man. That’s my favorite saying. I think I’m pretty tough been through some shit. If you ask anyone who knows me I don’t show much emotion. Today I almost cried by myself in my car. I can count on 1 hand the amount of times I cried in my adult life. Ranging from when my dad died to when the eagles won the fucking super bowl and I picked up my son in pure joy. When my son was born he came out blue, and would cry or respond. I held back my tears and fear to stay strong for his mom. Today I tried to hold it back too but it was tough.

If you know my story, I got really banged up and wrecked my car when my son was about 3 months old. I never had a car seat for him in my own car. I never drove him to school. He has never seen me drive before. He is almost 3. Today I drove him to school, we listened to and old punk mix cd I had from high school and he had a blast. I dropped him off at school and walked out to my car like it was the norm. I sat in the car for about 3 minutes holding back tears of overwhelming joy. Then headed my way off to the gym.

Truthfully I just fed you guys a bunch of bullshit. I cried my ass off. And I’m not afraid to admit It anymore. And if you think I’m soft for doing it and admitting it, I’m 6’3″ 250, you can come find me and call me soft to my face. Lol I’ll tell you damn right I’m soft and I like it and don’t give a fuck what you think.

How the process saved my life

I’ve been through some shit. I went to war a few times, lost my dad at a young age and lost my stepdad, like a second dad to me, in recent times too. two dads gone and im only in my thirties. I live with massive amounts of regret, my dad died a week before I was supposed to come home from Afghanistan. I had every opportunity to call home that week and even that day but I was too dumb to actually do it. I never got to say goodbye. I’ve been to war twice, I spent 9 years in the military under leadership that did nothing but stress workers out and lead by fear. I’ve lost friends to drugs. I failed out of college twice. I’ve been fired from a really good job bc I’m a damn idiot. But the biggest mistake of my life may have ended up being the best thing to happen to me. I lied to my gf and my sons mom and told her I was working overnight shift ( I was supposed to but didn’t go). I did work my first overnight shift and when I was done at 7 am I stopped at my dealers house and got some cocaine. Then shit got weird. I went home for about 12 minutes made up some lie about how I needed to go back to work and instead got a room in ac. And I partied like a Rockstar. After a good 24 hour binge and the coke, money and alcohol ran out there was nothing left but shame and guilt.

So I came to the conclusion I needed to be home. I was ready to admit I had a problem with drugs and alcohol and I wanted help. But my dumbass decided to drive home. At some point I don’t remember I got off the ac expressway and was on some back road, and must have fallen asleep. I swerved and hit a brand new ford f150 head on. The guy driving was an off duty cop in that town. I was fucked. I got arrested and got the dui thing and all, but I had to call my gf to pick me up at the police station. She had to bring my 4 month old son. Obviously she wasn’t taking me home so she took me to my parents, where she told me our relationship was over, I’d never see my son again, and she was changing his last name. That last part hit me hard, that last name was on my chest for 2 wars, my dad gave me that last name, which his dad gave him, that last name was supposed to have honor on it not shame, my son was supposed to carry on that honor, but now I ruined all that. I got dropped off at my parents, took a bunch of pills, and went to sleep with no intention of ever waking up again. Spoiler Alert, I woke up.

After that weekend things obviously needed to change. I was invited back to my house and family. But the next few weeks still a little uncertain and I messed up “relapsed”. Finally went to rehab for a week and my insurance said it wouldn’t cover it after the week I was there and sent me home. Whatever happened that week, I think it just showed me the seriousness of my action, when I came home I decided to be sober and have been sober ever since. Actually that’s a lie, later I’ll explain I battle depression and ptsd and recently I’ve been prescribed marijuana and it’s has helped so much but that’ll be another post. The battle wasn’t over, I was kicked out the guard and I lost my full time job. I became a stay at home dad, my gf was a nurse worked 3 12s and in her final 2 semesters to get her masters, so she was out of the house majority of the week. My world was completely flipped.

So what does this all have to do with “the process?” Well being at home all day long not being able to drive or go anywhere with a 4 month old baby it’ll make you go crazy. Put that on top of trying to fight the urge to drink and do drugs, I kinda slipped into a serious depression. Honestly the only reason I got out of bed in the morning was because if I didn’t my son would eat. I needed a hobby a distraction. I did the gym thing and continued to play basketball, and that helped but what about the hours I was stuck in the house. Well I dove into the process even more than I did before. I read everything I could. I followed every beat writer and basketball writer i can find on twitter. I studied potential draft picks the Sixers could get. I knew the odds to where the Sixers would land in the draft. I became completely obsessed. I haven’t missed a game since then, even if I’m not home I record it and watch it the next day. I used the Sixers who I’ve always loved, and the process of a complete distraction from real life and the shit that I did and my consequences. Truly when I say that without that and the process I would have one less crutch to help me become a better person and still be here for my son and family.

It’s crazy how far both the Sixers and I have come since then and the process. Sixers have come from 10 win season to a top 3 team in the east and potential championship team. I was the human version of a 10 win team, now I’m “sober” happy, in a position to finally graduate college in the near future and if I may brag I’m a pretty fucking good dad. And I’m alive. And the Sixers and the process played a great roll In that. So thank you to the Sixers, thank you to Sam hinkie and the process. Thank you Joel embiid. Thank you to all the writers and radio host on twitter who I commented on everything they tweeted over and over again until they finally responded and engaged in a convo when I had no one else to talk to. Thank you to my family and friends who stuck by my the whole time and let me ramble on about a terrible Sixers team all i wanted. You guys are the real mvps without all you I don’t know where I’d be.

Ps Best part about all this I get my license back soon and I’ll be taking my son to his first Sixers game this season. Life is good. Trust the process.