Lessons Learned

There's a big difference between intelligence and knowledge.

As regular readers know, I have a very high opinion of my son's intelligence. He's an impressively bright lad -- in addition to his undeniable musical gifts, he does seem to be able to handle other advanced thought processes with ease. Oh, I'll admit that he does struggle with a few concepts that I was able to master by his age (like how to wear a belt to keep your pants from falling down, and how to get a job, etc), but he seems perfectly capable of grasping subtle nuances of science, language, math, and zoroastrianism, etc. So, as long as hanging out with the music industry's social misfits (ie, drummers) doesn't cause a permanent decline in IQ, I think he'll eventually be able to gain the wisdom needed to function as an adult.

But it is still a work in progress. No matter how smart you are, you still need time to gain true understanding of the way the world works. In Tanner's case, the most obvious path to enlightenment would be to simply listen to and accept everything that his father tells him. Unfortunately, this simple technique seems to be contrary to the way the teenage brain works...so the other option is to learn by experience.

Don't get me wrong; I'm not saying that he hasn't acquired some very important knowledge already -- he definitely knows not to get involved in a land war in Asia, and not to go against a Sicilian when death is on the line. He also knows that no matter how badly you screw up your business, the government will pay off your debts...and that Diet Coke + Mentos = Fun!

But sometimes, you just have to go through the process.

As you may remember, Tanner got a fancy new keyboard for his birthday back in November. In addition to the regular band instruments it can emulate, it also has the ability to produce the kinds of weird and uncanny sound effects that he needs to supplement the "outer-space themed" music that DomeCube wants to put on their upcoming album. He was pretty excited about having all this capability, and immediately set about banging away at the keys.

I don't know whether it was a manufacturing deficiency, or the result of overenthusiastic fingers, but one of the keysprings apparently broke. It wouldn't be so bad if it was one of the keys way over to the side of the keyboard, but it happened to be the Middle C. Despite the fact that Tanner enjoys playing in oddball key signatures and uses sharps and flats a lot, there's really no way you're going to be able to avoid Middle C forever. The keyboard's got to go into the shop.

Fortunately (we thought), there were a few days left on the manufacturer's warranty, so I dug up the receipt and helped him figure out who to call for the repairs. He took the keyboard in to the shop and left it there. When he got home, I asked a few questions.

"Well, will it be covered under the warranty?"

"I dunno."

"Did they say when they'll call you with an estimate if it's not?"

"No."

"When do they expect the repairs to be completed?"

"I dunno."

"Well, then, I think you should call them tomorrow and get the answers to these questions. It would be a shame if it's an expensive repair job and not covered by the warranty."

"Why you always hasslin' me, man? You're a Nazi, man, just like all the Nazis in your uptight, belt-wearin' generation! When will you ever learn to be mellow and just let us kids just live in peace, which is all we're tryin' to do. Chill out, dude; just dial down your stress-o-meter and re-friggin-lax. I'll handle it without you having to go all Gestapo on me. Geez!"

Well, it went something like that, anyway. The point is that neither of us had obtained any kind of commitment from the repair folks, and they had the keyboard. Tanner didn't seem to mind too much, since he had other keyboards he could use. But he would definitely need the Korg back when it came time to begin the recording.

So here it is, a month later, and the recording deadlines loom. I'm on a business trip in Alabama, and haven't been thinking about keyboard repairs at all. Then yesterday when I was heading out to grab some lunch, my cell phone rang.

"Hey Dad," (Hmm, I'm not a Nazi now. Something's up.) "What's the best way to go about getting $6 to me?"

"Um, get a job?"

"No, I mean, like, right now. I'm here to pick up my keyboard, but they won't give it to me unless I can find $6."

"The repair cost $6?"

"No, the repair was $96. But I have $90."

"Ninety six?! Why didn't you tell me you'd authorized them to do that?"

"Um, well. I didn't. They just did it. But they won't give me the keyboard until I cough up 96 clams, and I need it back so I can make the funky space noises we need for our album. Just dump another Jackson in my checking account and it'll be covered and life is good."

Now, this is interesting on a couple of different levels. One is the obvious level, concerning how I'll use my Parental Authority to ensure that the greenhorn lad learns a valuable life lesson from this experience. But another is the fact that today's youth just assume that any financial transaction can be handled from anywhere, merely by placing a phone call. He's in a music store in Lakewood, CO, talking with his dad in a restaurant in Alabama, discussing how to instantly transfer money from the pocket of the guy who has a job directly into the pocket of the freeloading slacker 2000 miles away. [Insert appropriate congressional bailout analogy here.]

What a country!

It doesn't take a Ward Cleaver to know that the only correct thing to do here is to tell the boy to apologize to the nice music store clerk who's been patiently waiting through the phone call, and then explain that he'll be back to pick up the keyboard after he finds a job, deposits his pay into an interest-bearing savings account, and then waits long enough for there to be $96 left over (after taxes, 401k contributions, and charitable deductions.)

Well, either that or I could give the clerk my credit card number over the phone now, let the boy have the keyboard immediately, and then later force him to endure several months of ongoing parental lectures on the evils of not getting commitments from the vendor up front before you hand him your device. Hey—After all, the band has an album to put out.

I won't bore you with details of the actual resolution. But I will say that I sincerely hope that both the boy and his father learned something from these discussions and transactions. I hope.

The only thing I can promise, though, is that I'll post links to the new songs once they're recorded. It's gonna be wild and entertaining stuff, I'm sure -- I'm definitely looking forward to it. Until then, we'll be watching closely to see if anyone has gained any wisdom at all. Should be interesting, right?

Enjoy the ride, and have a great day!