Too Young To Appreciate You

Thank you Local Natives for creating stellar music in a world addicted to main-stream hog-wash. LISTEN TO THIS SONG AND BUY GORILLA MANOR...BOTH ARE GREAT DECISIONS.

Over Memorial Day Weekend I went to a monstrous music festival out in the picturesque wilderness of Washington and experienced music unlike any other. This post really has nothing to do with a challenge for anyone, it's more of me processing a song that I fell musically in love with.

So on Saturday of this festival, there weren't an overwhelming number of bands I was dying to see. City & Colour was top priority, but Dallas Green got pneumonia and couldn't come, so Matt (my brother and partner in crime) and I tried out some new bands...and we struck gold. Local Natives was up there in my favorite shows along with Passion Pit, Mumford & Sons, Vampire Weekend, and She & Him. These guys are totally about making great music with their best friends. They all rotated instruments and mics, so I never got the sense of a power trip from anyone, just a pure, unadultured love for their art.

I could digress so much from my main point, but I will reign myself in. I have listened to their song "Airplanes" nonstop since coming back and it never gets old...not because of the crazy stick work or the super attractive mop-top who plays the mandolin (my favorite instrument right below the banjo), but because of the meaning behind the song.

Kelcey Ayer, their keyboardist/vocalist/percussionist extraordinaire, wrote the song about his grandfather who did all of this insanely great stuff during his lifetime. The bummer is that he died before Kelcey was old enough to appreciate any of his grandfather's accomplishments....sheesh, I'm not the only one in that boat huh?

I always whine being so young when my mom's dad died. I can't really control my age, but when he died, I was probably more into my fantasy world of horses than the fact that my grandpa had his radio shot off of his back in WWII and won some insane-o awards, fought in the Battle of the Bulge, and had some of the most vast collections of knives and National Geographic magazines around.

As a 20 year-old who is now fascinated by the era of WWII, I get super bummed when I think about all of the knowledge I missed out on because I was so young...I am not sure how this whole heaven thing is going to work and I'm not sure if it will matter once I am in the presence of my Creator, but I really want to just sit down with Papa at some point and listen to his stories...let him talk for hours and just become a sponge. I want to tell him that the tee-pee he made me kicked butt, that I gave a speech about him being my hero and lost my composure completely thinking about what a great man he was, and that he impacted this world for Christ in some pretty awesome ways...and that some day, I want to name one of my kids after him.

I guess I do have a challenge. People in our grandparents' generation are overflowing with knowledge and stories. They're getting older. Don't squander time with them...be a sponge. They love to talk and you should love to listen.

Brucie