Mick Jeffries is a bon vivant impresario with an inextinguishable knack for self-entertainment. Aiding in this core endeavor, he revels in Life as a writer, photographer, ukulele teacher and player, oral historian, radio host, husband, father, graphic designer, bicyclist, music lover, traveler, trespasser, and troubadour.
Long ago–like, maybe yesterday–I began the greatest journey of my life, so far: being a full-on, all-indad.
I make these qualifications because I was a dad at a young age, too. Far too young, and I am so grateful to have muddled through that very unconventional and turbulent ride without a damned clue and yet managing to stumble into Love and Kinship (in the spiritual sense) with my wonderful eldest, Lauren. 38 years ago I was a young man without any real concept of how to be a dad. Not too surprising for a 19 year old, maybe. I got lucky, so lucky, and that baby, with the help of so many, and a drive like no other, grew into a wonderful and caring human. Because of me? Not really. Maybe a little. In spite of me? Maybe a lot.
Sept. 2011: As happy as a human can be…
Ten years ago, I got another chance. A chance to be the kind of dad that I didn’t know how to be–couldn’t imagine how to be–38 years ago.
Did I mention I’m grateful? Because that doesn’t begin to cover it. I’ve lived a very fortunate life, but the last ten years? The best. Not too long before Libby Lee was born, I was having chest pains. Minor but worrisome. I privately consulted some nurse friends (who I trusted and implored to not send me straight to the ER), and I’ll never forget what one of them told me: “It’s just your heart growing to make room for all the love it will soon need to hold.” (I wish I could remember who. I feel like it was Leah, Diane or Anne)
My god, those words.
In the 10 years since, I have never loved so much–didn’t know I was capable of it. Of course I was, though. Because fortunately, for countless newborns, special chemicals light up in our bodies to turn lots of self-centered idiots into good dads (and moms, of course, but women are generally less idiots than men).
The greatest of Mama’s with “the little shoogie.”
Which brings me to this thing, this person, this baby who’s now ten years old. Did the hospital really let us take her home?
I remember about 11 years ago, Jake Gibbs and I found ourselves standing on a Chevy Chase neighborhood sidewalk, talking about kids. And Jake, father of two, said of parenting: “If you have any interest, I really recommend it.” Such an off-handed and seemingly dispassionate way of talking about fatherhood. And it spoke to me. So much so that I’d just echo those words–especially to later-in-life prospective parents.
Because it will change so much for you. IN you. Your heart will grow bigger. It has to because there is so much love you’ll need to make room for.
Ten years. The best 10 years of my life. These are the good old days.
RIP Don Everly. 😔 The Everly Brothers: They meant so much to me. And more importantly: to Kentucky.
Ky’s monumental connection to the history of Rock & Roll. Worshipped by the Beatles, Buddy Holly, and so many others. Founding Cornerstone of Warner Brothers records (“Cathy’s Clown” was WB1, the first single released by the fledgling label). Their influence cannot be overstated.
“Phil & Don!” as Paul McCartney joyfully chirps in the Wings hit “Let ‘Em In.”
From the Guardian UK’s obit: “The duo, who had 15 US top 10 hits between 1957 and 1962, were described as “the most important vocal duo in rock” by Rolling Stone magazine. The Everly Brothers were elected to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in its first year, 1986, alongside the likes of Elvis Presley, Chuck Berry and Little Richard, and received a lifetime achievement award at the Grammys in 1997.”
RIP Don Everly. 😔 The Everly Brothers: They meant so much to me. And more importantly: to Kentucky. 