My Life, chapter 8
My father pulled off the road about 6:00pm so we could find a place to eat and stay the night. He found a creepy little place by the name of Mother Mary's Inn, it was the most religious inn I had ever seen in my entire life, it fucking freaked me out. Everywhere, and I mean everywhere, there were religious pictures and statues; in the dinning area, the bedrooms, and even in the bathrooms. I hadn't come from a religious family and seeing this many holy things was a bit frightening. I mean honestly, every time I went in the bathroom I was scared to do anything because I didn't want the Jesus statues or Mary pictures watching me.
Finally the time to go to sleep came, my father and I hadn't talked at all since the ending of the game in the car but he did say goodnight. I didn't respond like I knew I should have, I felt if he loved making money more than he loved me than he didn't deserve it. I laid on my bed in the dark not able to close my eyes, I was scared. I kept imagining the statues and pictures in our room were watching us, their cold eyes just staring at us.
*
I awoke to the sound of my father's humming and the strumming of a guitar. I yawned and stretched, I propped myself up in my bed and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. I looked over at him, he was sitting on the edge of his bed, facing me, with the guitar in his lap. He stopped for a minute and pulled out his pack of cigarettes from his chest pocket, he took one out and lit it up regardless of the sign on the table next to him that read, "No smoking in the rooms, Please. Remember, Jesus is watching." He returned the box to his pocket and then looked up at me. His eyes were red and puffy as if he had been crying or had allergies. I placed my bet for crying and broke our short staring contest. That's right, I'm no longer afraid to look the bastard in the eyes.
I heard him sigh, he got up and sat on the edge of my bed, I chose not to acknowledge him. He held up the guitar in front of me.
"What?" I asked finally in a harsh tone. I could see the pain in his eyes. For fucking sake, what was he so sad about, I thought.
"Take it," he encouraged. I did, and placed the guitar in my lap. Now what? I didn't know how to play. I gave him a blank look, I think he could tell I was a bit confused.
"I don't know what to do, I can't play," I said to him frustrated. He smiled.
"You think you can't play now, just wait till after I teach you," he said with a hint of excitement in his voice.
*
About an hour later I was just finishing how to learn Good Riddance; surprisingly, I had actually made it through the whole song. It was easier than I thought it would be, I thought I would be a complete failure and then my father would never speak to me again. I think I impressed him. When I finished playing the song I couldn't help but smile to myself, it felt good to accomplish something, even if I was helped by someone I wasn't too fond of at the moment.
"That was great Joey, really! For your first time ever playing, I'd say you're a natural kid," my dad praised with a huge grin on his face. I continued smiling but thought to myself, he was probably just doing all this to make up for yesterday, what an ass kisser.
I put the guitar down next to me on the bed and just sat staring at the evil faced Jesus statue. My father broke the silence.
"Look Joe, we need to have a talk," he said. The jackass I am, I thought he meant "the talk." You know the talk I mean, the "you're getting older now, and you're changing" talk. I shot a frightened look at him and he must have read my mind.
"Oh hell no, not that talk. I'm not ready do that now," he said relieving my fears. We both sighed.
"So, what about then?" I asked him. I knew it was about yesterday.
"About yesterday," he said. Told you so.
"Oh," I said with a sigh.
"Joey, I don't want you ever to think I love what I do more than you, mom, and Jake. I admit, I spend a hell of a lot more time in the studio and on tour than I do with you guys, but that doesn't mean that that is the most important thing in my life. I'm nothing without my family, I wouldn't be the person I am today if it wasn't for mom and you guys. I ended the game the way I did yesterday because I was so hurt that you would even think that, that is the last thing I would ever want you to think. Joey, you and mom and Jake are my world, my life, my everything. Sure, I love Green Day, but if I had to choose, which do you think I would pick?"
Wow, either I'm stupid or he's full of shit. Oh yeah, just to let you know, I think he would pick Green Day. But that's just my opinion. I think Jesus agrees with me, but who's to say.
Finally the time to go to sleep came, my father and I hadn't talked at all since the ending of the game in the car but he did say goodnight. I didn't respond like I knew I should have, I felt if he loved making money more than he loved me than he didn't deserve it. I laid on my bed in the dark not able to close my eyes, I was scared. I kept imagining the statues and pictures in our room were watching us, their cold eyes just staring at us.
*
I awoke to the sound of my father's humming and the strumming of a guitar. I yawned and stretched, I propped myself up in my bed and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. I looked over at him, he was sitting on the edge of his bed, facing me, with the guitar in his lap. He stopped for a minute and pulled out his pack of cigarettes from his chest pocket, he took one out and lit it up regardless of the sign on the table next to him that read, "No smoking in the rooms, Please. Remember, Jesus is watching." He returned the box to his pocket and then looked up at me. His eyes were red and puffy as if he had been crying or had allergies. I placed my bet for crying and broke our short staring contest. That's right, I'm no longer afraid to look the bastard in the eyes.
I heard him sigh, he got up and sat on the edge of my bed, I chose not to acknowledge him. He held up the guitar in front of me.
"What?" I asked finally in a harsh tone. I could see the pain in his eyes. For fucking sake, what was he so sad about, I thought.
"Take it," he encouraged. I did, and placed the guitar in my lap. Now what? I didn't know how to play. I gave him a blank look, I think he could tell I was a bit confused.
"I don't know what to do, I can't play," I said to him frustrated. He smiled.
"You think you can't play now, just wait till after I teach you," he said with a hint of excitement in his voice.
*
About an hour later I was just finishing how to learn Good Riddance; surprisingly, I had actually made it through the whole song. It was easier than I thought it would be, I thought I would be a complete failure and then my father would never speak to me again. I think I impressed him. When I finished playing the song I couldn't help but smile to myself, it felt good to accomplish something, even if I was helped by someone I wasn't too fond of at the moment.
"That was great Joey, really! For your first time ever playing, I'd say you're a natural kid," my dad praised with a huge grin on his face. I continued smiling but thought to myself, he was probably just doing all this to make up for yesterday, what an ass kisser.
I put the guitar down next to me on the bed and just sat staring at the evil faced Jesus statue. My father broke the silence.
"Look Joe, we need to have a talk," he said. The jackass I am, I thought he meant "the talk." You know the talk I mean, the "you're getting older now, and you're changing" talk. I shot a frightened look at him and he must have read my mind.
"Oh hell no, not that talk. I'm not ready do that now," he said relieving my fears. We both sighed.
"So, what about then?" I asked him. I knew it was about yesterday.
"About yesterday," he said. Told you so.
"Oh," I said with a sigh.
"Joey, I don't want you ever to think I love what I do more than you, mom, and Jake. I admit, I spend a hell of a lot more time in the studio and on tour than I do with you guys, but that doesn't mean that that is the most important thing in my life. I'm nothing without my family, I wouldn't be the person I am today if it wasn't for mom and you guys. I ended the game the way I did yesterday because I was so hurt that you would even think that, that is the last thing I would ever want you to think. Joey, you and mom and Jake are my world, my life, my everything. Sure, I love Green Day, but if I had to choose, which do you think I would pick?"
Wow, either I'm stupid or he's full of shit. Oh yeah, just to let you know, I think he would pick Green Day. But that's just my opinion. I think Jesus agrees with me, but who's to say.
