Who? What? Another bio-post for the MOS
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Who am I? What a difficult question. There are only facts linked by my memory and these digital grains of music and media, a faint line of sand behind me.
I was born and raised in Scottdale, a small town in southwestern Pennsylvania, surrounded by lots of family and places to explore, freedom and possibility, provincialism and a kind of redneck white trash vague rebelliousness. We said things like, "Yuns goin to the store, cause the pop is all." And, "Readd up this room before grandma get here." My parents met in Akron, where my dad's Scots-Irish family had moved to on the hillbilly highway, out of the hollers of West Virginia. Hard-drinking folk, one and all, with a general manner of irresponsibility and impulsiveness. My grandfather owned a Chevy dealership in town, and we loved going there to see the shiny cars in the showroom, the sounds of the air-wrenches in the shop, smell of oil and gas, the spray of primer and paint in the body shop, rolls of brown tape and old newspaper crumpled in random balls. I still love cars, especially old 60s Detroit steel, like a 66 Chevy II SS, the sleeper car driven by my first girlfriend's grandma, small block V8 and stick, looking so sedate but watch out when you hit the gas.
My grandfather and namesake is on the right. 
We grew up in the 70s, my brother and I, a time when, as someone else said, All children were left behind in schools. Our teachers wore elaborate mustaches and boldly patterned plaid tight pants and ties. In my 7th grade yearbook (1977) our class vice-president proudly wore a shirt depicting a cannabis leaf. Teachers didn't seem to care a 12 year old was getting stoned. I was in 3rd grade when I got into music. I remember being ridiculous on the playground and talking about the band Sweet, singing Little Willie.
Since I had gotten into trouble in 1st grade for kissing all the girls on the playground I am sure the title of the song must have alarmed the teachers.
We moved around a lot, and I usually felt alienated and different, though I got along with pretty much anyone. In 6th grade we would go to the Record Den on our way home from school, and gaze upon the Led Zeppelin albums, joking about the Sticky Fingers album cover, and buying only penny candy. Once I started buying full length albums, I was hooked. Beatles, Elton John, Queen, Billy Joel, then later in high school me and my best friend Darrell got totally into The Doors and Ozzy Osbourne. We went to Blue Oyster Cult, my bible-thumping girlfriend worried about my soul, and went to school the next day wearing the concert T-shirts and absolutely reeking of pot all day. Now this was 1981, and we were in all the smart classes, filled with hard-working kids whose parents were likely a bit more regimented than mine or Darrell's, where the fathers worked regular jobs and made enough money to care for the family, no disability payments or government cheese or food stamps.
My friend David bought The Clash's Sandinista, I bought it from him for $6. Punk rock saved me. This was what I was waiting for.
I left for boot camp on my high school graduation day, missing graduation, on to Fort Jackson, South Carolina. Uncle Sam paid a big chunk of my college money, without the military there was no way I was getting out of town. I ended up serving in the Army Reserve for 20 years, enough to get a pension when I get old, and I have not a single regret. Well, other than a few stupid incidents involving laundromats, a guy from Compton, one guy from Guyana, and drug-sniffing dogs in the parking lot.
Four and a half years at Penn State, early to mid 80s. Totally a Reagan Youth camp almost through and through. Seemed like only 50 indie-type kids on campus, and we found each other. I ended up at a St Patricks party in my co-ed dorm in the spring of 1984, and spy a lovely young lady, dancing, yet not with anyone. How could this be? We danced for some time... and are still dancing today. For our first date we saw Quadrophenia. Little did I know she had a thing for skinny mod boys. I soon began searching for an oversized parka. End up running around with a group big into straight-edge hardcore (though my edge was bent), traveling all over to see Black Flag, Husker Du, Dead Milkmen, Agnostic Front, and bands I don't remember. Our apartment hosting underage shows.
Our first apartment, first quarter-life crises, and even more significant challenges. Andrea discovers The Cure. I find faith in Husker Du, Billy Bragg, and Sonic Youth. Searching for a teaching job, realizing that maybe I should have gone to class more often.
Fast forward 10 years or so, a new teaching degree and a late night phone interview with a school principal in Las Vegas, and we break free of Philadelphia for sunnier climes. I love that place, and it was the right thing to do. It was the best job I've had, ever. But, family called, all back east, and we returned 3 years later. Still miss Fatburger and the Crown & Anchor.
Frank Sinatra still rules.
Traveling west, we stop in Taos, the air silent and pinon-scented on a cold February morning. I stand by Rancho de Taos church, and a quietness settles into my soul. 
Ten more years. Deeper into samba and bossa nova and jazz. Stan Getz wafting onto the patio on a warm spring evening. The devastation of losing my mom, and finding comfort in Emmylou Harris' Red Dirt Girl, singing Michelangelo, the memory of the first Thanksgiving without her, and hearing that song and just holding onto my wife for dear life. Ten years of teaching and trying to help kids. Climbing a ladder that seems to keep developing rungs in front of me. A beautiful house, a beautiful wife, and now a beautiful son. How did I get here? I marvel at that every day when I look out into the woods behind our house, or see the full moon rise over our lane.
So this is me. I'm a simple person, really, with only a few rules. Do good things for others every day. Be who you are.
But before getting too maudlin and sappy, let brother Ray take us home, and honor my father and his music appreciation nights that kept us awake past midnight, though I think I appreciated it more than my brother or mom.
Comments (25)
still dancing today...........I think we all want this. Great post
lovely post Chris!
Very nice recolection. Nice music too.
and we meet yet another teacher, mog is full of licensed mind-molders!
Nice to meet you Chris.
Yeah, I didn't realize there were so many teachers on here! We should start a MOG teacher union!
Chris, great post. Nice getting to know you even more!
a lot of teachers staying up late and hoping for a snow day! Thanks for the good comments.
Excellent post!
Thanks for piecing it together for us ... a good exercise especially this time of year.
good. rules.
Teachers unite :)
Love how you wove your musical recollections through your life story. Great words" A beautiful house, a beautiful wife, and now a beautiful son. How did I get here? I marvel at that every day when I look out into the woods behind our house, or see the full moon rise over our lane. " Thanks for painting such a picture.
Great post! I love how you all the stages of your life are connected to music.
" had gotten into trouble in 1st grade for kissing all the girls on the playground" FLAMBOYANT PLAYBOY ALERT! :)
Very nice. I liked the kissing part too.
"Do good things for others every day". The rule to live by. Great post. Thanks for sharing. Yeah for teachers!
What a great post. Thanks for sharing. Love Taos, by the way. Visited the house where Mabel Dodge Luhan lived --- patron of the arts and host to artists such as D.H. Lawrence, Georgia O'Keefe, etc. Also happens to have been owned and lived in by Dennis Hopper in the 70's. Tell you the rest of the story sometime.
Great post. I am in a different age group, but like you, music was integral to my life from early on to now and like you, did a four year hitch in the Navy, which made undergrad and law school possible via the GI Bill. You have done well, but there is much more to come...
Great post, great songs....LOVED the Clash vid! And learning about you....
I WAS a teacher (librarian now) ---but the biggest thing in common (prob for most of on this site) is that music has been connected in some way, directly or indirectly, to almost every stage/important event in our lives.
Very beautifully written, too
Lovely mix of truth teling and video commentary. Nice to know that you can answer "How did I get here?". Loved reading this.
Thanks for all the comments, I love this place and the community we have created.
@EP: love to hear the Taos story. We only were there for one day, and I made sure we stopped by the church. The picture I posted is almost identical to the one I took, snow and all. What a beautiful place. (And I think I have figured out my secret santa... )
what a great read, Chris. my god, that was a piece of history. '60s Detroit must've been such a time in America, i imagine. Sandinista also turned my life around some. i was stopped by that photo, i was half-done writing about some favorite church architecture when i saw it.
"Yuns goin to the store, cause the pop is all." - i don't know what that means.
Loved reading this, Chris.
Do good things for others every day. Be who you are.
I try to live by those, too -- and they're related. Can't have genuine respect for others without self-respect.
For our first date we saw Quadrophenia. Little did I know she had a thing for skinny mod boys. I soon began searching for an oversized parka.
Plus cherry-red steel-toe Dr Martens boots?
@poe: Thanks, and that is some excellent southwest PA talk. It means:
"Are you (plural) going to the store? The (soda) pop is all gone."
@1234: I had (still have) some green/black Doc Martens. The red were a bit flashy for me. I would wear them to work but they don't go with a suit.
Hey, teach! You and your colleagues mean the world to me - and the world. Keep on doin' your best with the kids - or we're surely screwed. Meanwhile, relishing the deets and the accompanying sounds and visions. Wonderful account of another pilgrim's progress, all the best to you and yours. Time isn't holding us, time isn't after us...
Thanks, Mike, I appreciate the words!
thanks for clearing that up, Chris. i never would've thought "pop" meant soda. fancy that! i could totally get lost in America...
If I were a teacher, I'd give you an A+. That was an awesome post (LOL ... I loved the Sweet too, but for Fox on the Run). :)
Oh yeah, I love that song too! Just put it on a mix cd in fact. I think I like it better even.. You can just see the guitarists rocking back and forth synchronized. sweet