The Full Oliver Friendships

"Bryce, you didn't ask me if get to see all my boyfriends this week," I said with a smirk. 

Our youngest child, Bryce, processed that statement and then smiled. 

"Dad, do you get to see all your boyfriends this week?"

"Yes, Bryce. Yes I do."

That's become a running joke with our family, especially with our kids, Beatrice and Bryce. The fact that I've had close male friends for 40+ years. Three from junior high to high school, one from post high school, and one from college. Sadly, my best friend from junior high passed away in 2025. 

I consider it a term of endearment because I've always loved these men. They've been the dearest of friends even though we only see each other a few times a year. We've traversed the chasm of decades together, through darkness and light, continuously building bridges of friendship, love, and empathy, and a whole lotta laughter along the way. 

There's a current societal narrative that says men are lonelier than ever. That they feel left out of bridge-building when compared to women. The percentage of men with six or more close friends dropped from 55% in 1990 to just 27% in 2021. Men account for nearly 80% of all suicide deaths and are over three times more likely to die by suicide than women.

The resurgence of toxic masculinity is an unfortunate direct response to feeling left out of the life equation. For the first time, there are more women employed than men, and there's a misinformed visceral backlash to this, movements like #MeToo, and more.

I'm grateful that there's hope in male friendships like ours. Men can have strong, positive connections and loving male friendships. Friendships that mentor and support each other. Those friendships reciprocally can and do make other relationships stronger, like those with our significant others and our children and grandchildren. 

So, Bryce and Beatrice, this was a good week with my boyfriends. First, my best friend from college, Troy, traveled with his oldest son and me to Los Angeles to see our favorite band Rush on their new aptly titled "50 Something Tour". A band we've seen many times together over the years, and one we never thought we'd see play live again after the beloved drummer, Neil Peart, passed away in January of 2020. (And speaking of friendships, the members of Rush were also friends for decades, and the two remaining members, Alex Lifeson and Geddy Lee, have been best friends since junior high. We can gratefully relate.) 

Second, my dear friend from high school, Greg, invited us to his and his wife's 60th birthday party. My other two mutual friends, Rob and Craig (and Craig's wife), attended as well. We always know how to "bust each other's chops", laugh until we cry, and unabashedly hug each other tight.

After we returned home from Rush, my friend Troy texted me: The whole trip was a full Oliver. That's our new Rush "inside baseball" term for "it was everything". The same was true for Greg's birthday party and everything we've done together for decades. Our friendships are the "Full Oliver", forever building transcendent bridges.

More Full Oliver:

All the Friendship in Between, with Love

A Spirit Breaking Free

Because There's Always A Promise

A Longing for Loving Connection

What Happens Next

Superman's Love Letter

Men of An Influencer Age

Making a Dent

A Long-Term Well-Being Win

Men of a Stand-up Age

Men of a Vulnerable Age

Able-Bodied Grateful

Men of Our Present Age

The #MeToo Guys

Men of a Women's Age

Men of a Consequential Age

Like Men Knowingly Bound to Their Future

Because That's How It Works With The Guys That Work

Big Heart Love to My Class of 1984

Men of An Unremarkable Age

Being What Happens Next

Retro K: A treasure trove of golden memories friendship has forged

Loudly, Proudly, and with Much Love

On the way to my sister's house for Thanksgiving, our kids turned us on to some great new music. Artists we never would've heard otherwise -- beabadoobee, Alex G, Will Wood, The Volunteers, The Wallows, Glass Animals, and many others. Stuff that's not played on what's left of mainstream radio. Some of it sounding like shades of our music pasts from the 70's, 80's, and 90's. 

My wife Amy and I smiled in the front seat as we drove on and our kids excitedly took turns sharing their favorite artists, bands, and songs. Not all the music was our "cup of tea" as the expression goes, but much of it we really liked. It was also great insight into their teenage sensibilities.

Our kids have grown up hearing our music over and over again -- pop, rock, soul, rhythm and blues, and even some contemporary indie folk and country. Amy and I are also big fans of what's now called Yacht Rock -- smooth but surprisingly complex early "emo" (emotional) pop-rock from the 70's and 80's (think Steely Dan, Toto, Christopher Cross, Michael McDonald, Kenny Loggins, Ambrosia). We just finished watching a great documentary called Yacht Rock: A DOCKumentary from HBO Documentary Films that we highly recommend for those who love that music.

Early on in my life my mom turned me on to that music and more -- rhythm and blues, soul, pop, and of course my favorite, rock (and roll). Everything from Janis Joplin to the Ohio Players to Michael Jackson to Earth Wind & Fire to Pablo Cruise to The Doobie Brothers. 

Billy Joel's hit "Only the Good Die Young" was the first 45 record I bought with my allowance. My sister and I walked to the local mall and went to the Woolworth's record section where we would check out all the records for what seemed like hours. Every time we had enough money to buy a new single, we made the trek to Woolworth's. 

A few years later when I was 13, I joined the Columbia Record Club and bought 13 records for 1 cent, which really turned out to be more in shipping and handling. But my parents weren't happy when they found out I still had to buy three more albums over two years at full overpriced Columbia Record Club prices. However, those first 13 albums were my coming of age -- Kiss, Kansas, Journey, Boston, Queen, Aerosmith, AC/DC, and others (becoming the Rush fan I am today would come a few years later). 

Between then and now there's been so much amazing music I've experienced, and I must credit my nephew Nick for turning me onto to some of it during the 2010's. His mother (my sister) and father were also grounded in
tons of great music and both my nephew and niece love it all, too. Again, thank you, Nana (Mom). 

One of many shared loves of Amy and I that's fueled our love for nearly three decades is this very music we grew up with, our coming-of-age music, and the music we've grown together with ever since we met. Our kids don't necessarily like all these past musical artists and bands as much as we do, but our music has influenced them more than they've realized, just like my mom's music influenced my sister and me. 

Our kids grew up loving pop music (Taylor Swift and many others), but today along with pop, Beatrice also loves alt-rock from the 90's to today (thank you grunge), and Bryce loves edgy new punkish-rock and amazing new singer-songwriter music. Now the coming-of-age circle is complete because they're turning us on to a lot of great new music. 

But the greatest tribute for me, even though they don't listen to the band (yet -- ha!), is the fact that my daughters wear my Rush t-shirts and sweatshirts. That most certainly rocks, because what they don't know is that to me (and millions of fans), Rush has always represented individualism, critical thinking, learning, levity, and empathy -- all the things and more we want for them -- loudly, proudly, and with much love.

Where Our Troubles Are All The Same

"You want to be where you can see
The troubles are all the same
You want to be where everybody knows your name..."

–Theme from Cheers

The news update read: 99 Bottles closes permanently.

"Sweetie, 99 Bottles is closing forever," I said to my wife, Amy.

"Oh, so many memories there," she said. "So sad."

"I know. And they're laying off all 30 employees."

This was only the beginning, I thought. So many businesses will bleed out because of the coronavirus impact. So sad. 

Thankfully, so many memories there...

I sipped my beer and smiled at the question forming in my head. We had just returned from a road trip vacation through the Southwest and were again at our favorite watering hole called 99 Bottles for Friday date night. Nearly every week since we met we'd been going there to sit at the bar, play Scrabble, drink beer and eat burgers. We got to know the owners well and many of the regulars, especially those who sat at the bar like we did.

“So, do you want to have a kid?” I asked Amy.

Without missing a beat or looking at me, she formed her next word on the travel Scrabble board we used religiously, and then she said:

“Okay.”

And then that was it. For years since we'd met we didn't want to have children, and then we changed our minds. Happily so. But that night at the pub we didn't talk about it again until the next morning. Then within a few years came both our girls: Beatrice, our oldest, and then Bryce, our youngest.

After we had the girls we went to 99 Bottles less frequently, but both girls loved the waffle fries and burgers every time we went. It would always be nostalgic for us when we dined there, sitting in the booth with the kids each time, not at the bar. C'mon, we're better parents than that.

When Beatrice was only two weeks old, we took her there to celebrate my birthday. New parents just figuring things out, we needed an early night out and made the best of it. We sat in the back of the noisy and packed pub, rocking Bea in her car seat while we had our date. She actually slept through most of it and we basked in our burger and beer love.

A few years before that, we finally finished our 99 Bottles drinking-beer card: drinking all 99 beers they had on tap and in the bottle. Now, keep in mind that took us a few years to finish, even between the two of us. Upon consuming all 99 beers, we eventually got our names on a small nameplate mounted on the wall of the pub restaurant with the hundreds of others who did the same. When the pub decided to update their nameplate wall, they contacted us and asked if we wanted our original nameplate. Of course we did and now it's framed in our house.

The quote we picked for the nameplate was perfect for us: Two Halves Make Two Pints. It was based on the Rush lyrics from the song The Speed of Love penned by the now deceased Neil Peart:

Love is born with solar flares
From two magnetic poles
It moves towards a higher plane
Where two halves make two wholes

Contemporary romantic sentiment dictates that when two people in love bond together and maybe even get married, their union is of two becoming one. But for us, it was about becoming two wholes together, our unique spirits made stronger because of our union. 

A few years before that before our wedding day, we decided to have our rehearsal dinner at 99 Bottles. We had such a great time, both our families celebrating the joy of our love. We took over the second floor of 99 Bottles, the game room at the time also used for special events, and we enjoyed our fellowship of burgers, beer and family.

A few years before that, we rang in the New Year at 99 Bottles, making it until closing time, probably the latest we've ever stayed out on New Year's Eve, or any night for that matter. Like, ever. C'mon, we've gone to bed by 9:30 pm every night for years now.

And a few years before that, one day on the beach, destiny awaited. Shortly thereafter, the Friday night date nights ensued, where two halves made two pints.

So many memories there. We planned our careers, our travels, our children, our entire lives sitting at that bar. We discussed books, music, spirituality, religion, politics and more. We shared our experiences of Y2K, hanging chads, September 11, the Dot.com bust, the Iraq war, the Great Recession and other timely events.

I'm sure many of you have your own special memories of a local establishment you frequented with those you love -- your husbands, your wives, your significant others, your children, your families, your friends, your peers and colleagues. A place where our troubles are all the same and everybody knows our names. 

There are those business that struggle even in the best of times. During this healthcare crisis, many small businesses will die (even with our help as consumers and government assistance), and many more will be born on the other side (we hope), and through it all, as we shelter in place, our homes become the places where our troubles are all the same and everybody knows our names. Farewell, 99 Bottles. These two pints are for you.

In All My Available Light

"I shall not waste my days in trying to prolong them. I shall use my time." 

—Neil Peart, Ghost Rider: Travels on the Healing Road

Every time I look back on it, I can't believe I said no to Rush. It was our sophomore year in high school, 1981, and one of my friends, a budding musician himself at the time, came up to me one day and asked me if I wanted to go to Fresno to see the sold out Moving Pictures tour. Which, according to my new fancy-schmancy Rush: Wandering the Face of the Earth: The Official Touring History, was June 7, 1981, and tickets were $9.50 in advance.

$9.50 -- and I told him I couldn't afford to go. That was a lot for a high school kid in 1981, but I'm sure I could've scrounged up the money. The truth was, believe it or not, I wasn't quite the fan then that I eventually came just over one year later when Signals came out. I did already dig all the big hits from Moving Pictures and some of the earlier albums, and knew that Geddy Lee (bass/keyboards), Alex Lifeson (guitar) and Neil Peart (drums/lyricist) were amazing progressive rock musicians, but I wasn't quite the huge fan yet. Plus, I didn't think my parents would let me go to a concert yet either and was afraid to ask them.

"No, his mind is not for rent
To any god or government.
Always hopeful, yet discontent
He knows changes aren’t permanent –
But change is..."

However, something was brewing within me during those formative teenage years, something that would connect me more and more with Rush's music. The stormy angst of lower middle-class white teenage-land, the longing to succeed, to be the best in everything I did, to be liked by everyone no matter what, and to never fail. Ever. At any and all costs. The pressure I put on myself then combined with growing up in a broken family, domestic violence and sexual abuse circled me like a category 5 hurricane.

"Look in
To the eye of the storm
Look out
For the force without form
Look around
At the sight and sound
Look in, Look out, Look around..."

I felt safe in the hurricane's eye for the first two and a half years of high school, until the high winds drove me into the brutal storm. Anxiety and severe panic attacks ensued, my grades suffered (I had been a straight A student until my senior year), and the dreams of going away to college crumbled, at least until a year after high school graduation.

"Growing up it all seems so one-sided
Opinions all provided
The future pre-decided
Detached and subdivided
In the mass production zone..."

I rarely talked about what I experienced at the time with anyone, even my closest of friends, and definitely not my family. I was close to my mom but I couldn't articulate what was happening inside me -- that I didn't want to be what everyone wanted me to be at the time, and in the years after high school. That I desperately needed to heal the scared and broken child inside me, so afraid to become the me I longed to be. My withdrawn anger turned to depression and even further anxiety.

"Anger got bare knuckles
Anger play the fool
Anger wear a crown of thorns
Reverse the golden rule
Then you learn the lesson
That it’s tough to be so cool..."

But no amount of reading (including the Bible, Orwell, Fitzgerald, Conrad, Lee, Ellison, Baldwin, Salinger, Faulkner, Golding, Steinbeck, Swift, Woolf, Hemingway, Huxley, Beckett, Kafka, Lessing, Poe, King -- Martin Luther and Stephen -- and so many more), nor the music and lyrics of Rush, or the unsure but kind words from my family and friends could fully console me. Much anxiety, let downs and failures later, my awakening to being me and living life on my terms would take another 15 years to be fully realized.

"When we lift the covers from our feelings
We expose our insecure spots
Trust is just as rare as devotion —
Forgive us our cynical thoughts..."

The music and lyrics from Rush did help along the way, though. Neil Peart, the drummer and primary lyricist and eventual writer of non-fiction works such as The Masked Rider, Ghost Rider, Traveling Music, Far and Near, Roadshow and many others, inspired me to be a better human, to be independent yet inclusive, pragmatic yet hopeful, loving of self and others, and to be present and always be adventuring and learning, to keep living a full life.

"If I could wave my magic wand
I’d make everything all right..."

I didn't see Rush for the first time until May 24, 1986, in Sacramento, California. General admission then was only $16.50 and it was another sold out show. I was with my best friends from junior high, high school and college. The hot valley sun beat up on us that day, although we were feeling no pain, that's for sure. The show was fabulous and I never in my life have seen musical prowess on stage, then and now, all coming from three individuals. Ever since that first concert, I've seen them many times with the best of friends, and each show has elevated me to new emotional and spiritual heights.

"Against the run of the mill
Static as it seems
We break the surface tension
With our wild kinetic dreams
Curves and lines —
Of grand designs..."

Neil's words definitely contributed to my spiritual therapy over the years and solidified my fandom for sure. Especially from the albums Signals, Grace Under Pressure, Power Windows, Hold Your Fire, Presto, Roll the Bones, Counterparts and Test for Echo. However, all the albums now are important to me today pre- and post-Signals (yes, I keep saying albums, because I'm old school that way), each of them inextricably linked to so many moments in my life.

"I believe in what I see
I believe in what I hear
I believe that what I’m feeling
Changes how the world appears..."

And then in 1997/98, Neil's daughter and wife passed away within 10 months of each other, and for many of us devastated fans, that was the end of Rush. Even his bandmates Geddy and Alex thought it was over. But it wasn't, and after reading Ghost Rider, Neil's healing road that included riding 55,000 miles on his motorcycle throughout North America, Mexico and South America, helped to bring him back to life. He remarried, had another daughter, and Rush played once again, giving us all another four albums, many live shows and a few more books. Plus, there are these fantastic documentaries available as well: Beyond the Lighted Stage and Time Stand Still (a true love letter from fans).

"Surge of energy, spark of inspiration
The breath of love is electricity
Maybe Time is bird in flight
Endlessly mocking
Here we come out of the cradle
Endlessly rocking
Endlessly rocking..."

I never got to meet Neil; he was wary of the public eye and not comfortable around fans. I did get to meet Geddy, though. That was quite a treat. Last year one of my work trips to Toronto aligned with Geddy Lee's book tour promoting his collection of electric basses (titled Big Beautiful Book of Bass). He interviewed on stage and then did a book signing. I even got to fist-bump him after he signed my book! Maybe one of these days I'll get to meet Alex.

"He's a rebel and a runner
He's a signal turning green
He's a restless young romantic
Wants to run the big machine..."

My last show was with my best friend from college in San Jose on July 23, 2015, where tickets started at $49 each (although ours were a lot more than that). My friend was sure he saw Neil riding his motorcycle outside of the arena earlier in the day, although I'm not sure it was him (but we can still wish it was).

Shortly after that last tour, Neil said he was done and the band officially retired. And that was it.

Years pass and then I'm on my way to see my dear friends of 30-40+ years in early January, 2020, when my nephew texts me:

I’m sorry to hear about Neil Peart.

What? I thought. That led to me calling my wife and asking her to look up this news online.

"I'm sorry, sweetie. Yes, he passed away. It says he had brain cancer."

"Suddenly —
You were gone
From all the lives
You left your mark upon..."

I tried to voice text my friends to tell them the news that Neil Peart was dead as I was driving, but Siri couldn't get the words right, so it kept coming out:

Which, in a strange fandom way for many, he was. I hope other fans find humorous solace in that. As I wrote recently, listening to favorite old songs (and albums) is just like looking at faded cherished photographs -- the visceral memories attached to each are forever bound to our hearts. We relive them through our ears of today, the past pleasures and the pain, one song at a time.

"Run to light from shadow
Sun gives me no rest
Promise offered in the east
Broken in the west
Chase the sun around the world
I want to look at life – 
In the available light..."

This morning we were up early, as my family always is, and we drove down to the ocean just before sunrise to catch the birth of a new day. Glorious in rich burning colors, the glowing sliver moon basked in its birth along with us. We held each other, because every day we live our best lives, my wife and daughters, a loving promise we make to each other without compromise.

Neil Peart's life and work has always inspired me to chase the sun around the world and look at life in the available light. To not waste my days just existing, but instead, to use my time well.  Sometimes I can still feel broken, and darkness can creep in, and yet, I keep working on living my best life in all my available light, ample with love and respect for myself, my family and for others. Amen.

Thank you, Neil. 

"The treasure of a life is a measure of love and respect

The way you live, the gifts that you give

In the fullness of time

It’s the only return that you expect..."

The First Astronaut

"Lit up with anticipation
We arrive at the launching site
The sky is still dark, nearing dawn
On the Florida coastline..."

–Rush, Countdown

"I'm going to be an astronaut," she said.

"That's awesome," we said.

This after our visit to the Kennedy Space Center over the summer. Both our girls loved seeing all the rockets and the Atlantis space shuttle that day, and it was especially poignant that we were there on the 50th anniversary of the Apollo 11 launch. But it was our youngest Bryce who really fell in love with the idea of space travel. So much so that she begged us to buy her an astronaut suit and NASA hat to wear while we were at the space center.

After some negotiation with Mom and Dad about how much she would spend out of her allowance "spend" money and how much we would cover, we bought the space suit. It was a muggy 95+ degrees outside in Florida that day, and she wore that suit the rest of the afternoon. Shortly after that, she made me promise that come Halloween this year, I'd go as her space shuttle.

I loved the idea of space travel when I was her age. I remember I took a summer astronomy class when I was 10 and the teacher let me each take the telescope home one night. I stayed outside for what seemed like hours, looking at the planets and the stars, until my mom told me it was time to go to bed.

Two years later, Star Wars came out, and that's all she wrote for me. I dove in so deep I've never looked back since. Neither Bryce nor Beatrice have taken to these movies like I have, but there's still time, considering there are many new Star Wars stories to come.

Then came the first space shuttle launch in April of 1981. The space shuttle Columbia was the first space-rated orbiter in NASA's Space Shuttle fleet and such an amazing feat of engineering, science and technology. My favorite band Rush would be inspired to write a song called Countdown about this very launch, a song that still gives me chills today. This inspiration would come after NASA invited Rush to be part of a select group to view the first launch of a space shuttle. So very cool.

This October came and went pretty fast, metaphorically at the speed of light, with work and family trips consuming over half of it. When we returned from these trips, Bryce reminded me of the space shuttle, and I had to quickly get to work on it to complete it before the Halloween events commenced.

I love being creative when I can, and I had lots of cardboard, a roll of white paper, rope, packing tape and marking pens to work with. In less than two hours I created a really simple representation of the space shuttle Columbia, complete with American flags that Bryce made for the shuttle. When she said she was only going to draw three stars, I asked her why, and she said "because". Fair enough. Maybe she was channeling the three band members of Rush. I can dream at least.

We also showed both girls some of the the video of the two female American astronauts who recently took part in the first all-female spacewalk. They'd been tasked with replacing a power controller, and had ventured out of the International Space Station. So awesome to watch. It was also so much fun when I showed the recruiting team at Jet Propulsion Laboratory, one of many organizations that participate in the Talent Board candidate experience benchmark research program I run, the picture of my daughter and I dressed as astronauts and space shuttle. In fact, they said they're hiring!

Bryce was so happy and proud to have me as her space shuttle Columbia at every Halloween event we went to this year, including the Halloween parade at her and her sister's school that all the students participate in. I got a lot of orbit miles out of that cardboard space shuttle in just under one week.

"I'm going to be the first female astronaut to go to the moon," Bryce has told us over and over again.

We of course agreed and, who knows, we may just see her do that someday. And while I don't ever want to take away anything from her about being the first female to go to the moon, to Mars and to who knows where else as the future becomes now again, we long for the day when we can just call her the first astronaut, because.

"Excitement so thick, you could cut it with a knife
Technology high, on the leading edge of life
Like a pillar of cloud, the smoke lingers
High in the air
In fascination with the eyes
of the world we stare..."

The Family Fandom

"He's a rebel and a runner
He's a signal turning green
He's a restless young romantic
Wants to run the big machine..."

–Rush, New World Man

"What's Dad's favorite band?"

From that question comes the attempted eye roll from Beatrice.

"We know, Dad. Rush. Ugh."

"Yes, Rush!"

At least Bryce sounds a little more enthusiastic for me when she says it. In fact, although they both prefer the pop music of today, Bryce is a little more of the rocker, bopping her head when I'm playing rock and roll in the car. Beatrice however makes me turn the channel immediately.

Yes, I'm that rockin' dad who ain't afraid to embarrass his kids with thrashing air drums and head bangin'. Wayne's World a-go-go.

But I wasn't always the Rush super fan. When I was a freshman in high school, Moving Pictures had just been released, probably the most iconic album from the rock band Rush, and they were coming to play Fresno, CA in early June of 1981. A friend at the time asked me if I wanted to go see them, and while I wasn't sure my parents would let me go, I was sure I didn't have the money, and at the time I just wasn't a fan. The song "Tom Sawyer" rocked and all, but I was still more into Boston, Journey, Kansas, Aerosmith, Kiss, Van Halen and other arena-rock bands at the time (music my dad couldn't stand). So, I said no thank you. I just wasn't a fan yet.

But of course, anyone who knows me (and who reads this blog with all the lyrics I quote in every other post), knows that all changed. The album after Moving Pictures, Signals from 1982, resonated with me, especially the first track "New World Man". And then after that, it was all over. I fell in love with their driving progressive rock music; their intelligent messages of independence, self-confidence, being your true self regardless what others think and celebrating differences and inclusion; their love of continuous learning and pushing themselves to new heights; plus, so much more (all things we celebrate in our family). That's when I became a big fan going forward as well as looking back to their early days (all the way back to 1974).

I was fortunate to see them many times over the years with some of my best friends until their final tour together in 2015, but never had the opportunity for a super-fan meet-and-greet. Or, never had that kind of cash to spend. More the latter actually. In fact, every time I watch the Time Stand Still super-fan-love documentary and hear fans saying they've seen them 100 times, 110 times, 120 times or more, I think to myself, Mercy me. That's super awesome.

Sigh. That's why one of this rockin' dad's bucket list items has been to meet the band, or at least one of the members. The drummer and writer, Neil Peart, has never been the meet-in-greet kind and prefers much more privacy than his other two bandmates, so that was never going to happen anyway. The guitar player, Alex Lifeson, and the bass and keyboard player, Geddy Lee, are the social members of the band and the ones who do the meet-in-greets and other events.

Which was why I was so excited when one of my work trips to Toronto aligned with Geddy Lee's book tour promoting his collection of electric basses (titled Big Beautiful Book of Bass). He was going to be interviewed on stage and then do a book signing.

Here it was -- my opportunity!

I included my global program manager who was with me on this particular work trip and we went to the interview and book signing outside of Toronto. After the onstage interview with Geddy was over, the host opened up questions to the audience.

Here is was -- another opportunity!

I asked him, "Besides initially playing guitar and then bass, what other instruments did you aspire to play over the years?"

I was so proud. I got to ask Geddy Lee a question!

"Well, I kind of fancy the piano and keyboards," he said.

The audience laughed. Ugh. In my head I had included keyboards, because of course I knew that, but didn't say it out loud. I was thinking of about my daughter and the fact that she had learned trombone and now wanted to learn how to play the flute.

"Duh," I said. "I knew that. I meant other than the keyboards, too."

"Hmmm," he thought. "I guess the violin."

"Excellent. Thank you," I said.

Was I embarrassed? A little, but who cares -- I got to ask Geddy Lee a friggin' question live and in person, so la dee da to you.

After the Q&A, we moved on row by row to the book signing. When my turn came, I made sure my global program manager had my iPhone camera ready to go.

Here it was -- my even bigger opportunity!

I fist-bumped Geddy and said, "I was the brilliant one who forgot to reference you played the keyboards, too."

"I know," he said, nodding. He smiled and laughed while he signed my booked.

The meeting was brief, but I didn't care. I got to meet Geddy Lee live and in person, so la dee da to you.

Check that one off the bucket list. My girls weren't impressed (unless it was Katy Perry or Taylor Swift I had met), but my wife was thrilled for me (and keeps buying me Rush stuff when I ask!).

And yet, besides all the musical and lyrical reasons why I'm a big Rush fan, another important reason I'm a fan, at least since we've had kids, is the fact that the band members are all husbands, fathers and friends. Intensely committed ones as well, something they've made crystal clear publicly over the years. Even with the all touring and traveling they did over the four decades they played together, their families were and are always the priority. When Neil lost his wife and daughter in the late 1990's, he wrote intimately about his grieving and healing in Ghost Rider: Travels on the Healing Road, and how important his friends and family relationships were to him. He's since remarried and had another young daughter.

It's this, the family fandom, that's now the most inspiring part of why I'm a lifelong fan of Rush and why I'm such a proud father of the #BhivePower.

Happy Father's Day, my family!

Daddy K finds some fun with kids’ musical instruments

Oh my, how much fun is this? A group called Plastica covered a classic Rush instrumental called YYZ (which Plastica lovingly calls YY Me). And it's all done with kids' musical instruments and a few bottles for good measure (get it, good measure?).

For fans, this was an amazing cover. For wannabe musicians and soon to be fathers, inspiring.

Enjoy.

Daddy K’s Behind the Art of Peace

One of my staff members, Dawn, and my man, Troy (Dog), brought to my attention that Rush will be on The Colbert Report tomorrow night (Wednesday, July 16, at 11:30 p.m. PT). It'll be the first time they've played on U.S. television in three decades.

OMG! (That's Oh My God in young hipster lingo.)

That prompted me to catch up on one of my blogs, Rush Is A Band, to then find out that Rush and many other artists will be featured on Songs for Tibet - The Art of Peace (from the The Art of Peace Foundation):

...The project is the artists' expression of peace and support for Tibet and the Dalai Lama.

The album features acoustic songs recorded by the artists that are proactive celebrations of our shared humanity and common search for happiness. The songs themselves reflect the sublime beauty and vulnerabilities experienced in pursuit of happiness, peace and freedom.

The album will release August 5th, three days before the opening of the Summer Olympics...

I'm behind this one for sure and will be making that purchase.

If we burn our wings

Flying too close to the sun

If the moment of glory

Is over before it's begun

If the dream is won --

Though everything is lost

We will pay the price,

But we will not count the cost

--Neil Peart

The B file: We can get back on

It's a far cry from the world we thought we'd inherit

It's a far cry from the way we thought we'd share it

You can almost feel the current flowing

You can almost see the circuits blowing

One day I feel I'm on top of the world

And the next it's falling in on me

I can get back on

I can get back on

One day I feel I'm ahead of the wheel,

And the next it's rolling over me

I can get back on

I can get back on…

--Neil Peart

Yes, we can get back on, we can get back on. No matter what happens growing up, I finally learned years ago that the alternative isn't one. That goes in the B file.

But what's the real ulterior motive of this post? As Mama A and Baby B roll their eyes, kick and squirm, I revel in my unadulterated plug for my boys in Rush who were finally given their just deserts in the latest issue of Rolling Stone (that includes a great article on Senator Obama as well).

Living in the limelight the universal dream…

The letter B: Our dichotomous democracy and the alien shore

Dear Baby B,

Yesterday was our country's birthday – Independence Day – the 4^th of July. Mama A and I had a great day together kicking it all off with a mind-clearing and life-affirming hike in Henry Cowell Redwoods State Park.

We're proud Americans, B, and although we've been labeled Gen Xers and the "me" generation (are we really any more selfish than other generations?), we embrace our rights, freedoms and civil liberties as personally responsible Americans and are grateful.

Sadly those civil liberties have been put to the test in the 21^st century in the endless wake of 9/11 (and as can only be explained in cartoons). It's important to understand how America came to be, where it's gone and where we're going.

I'm in the middle of reading 1776 and I hope someday for you to read it, to understand the origins of our country without Disneyfication or censorship. Some of the same tyrannous elements our founding fathers (and mothers and children) declared independence from the British, we've dealt with of late from our own government.

However, that's why will live in democracy; this is a presidential election year and we have the power to elect one another president. I hope the next administration can put the "we" back in we the people. And that as "we the people" – we have a responsibility as well to ensure we remain thriving and free democracy. We may not always get along, and we don't, but we are the power behind the curtain; we can be the unifiers and the healers. No matter who reviles us around the world, there are just as many who look to America with hope and clamor for our alien shore.

Along those lines I read a great piece in our local Santa Cruz Sentinel yesterday by Wallace Baine about the importance Independence Day and the values of our founding fathers:

Still, as far as 18th-century elites go, these were pretty enlightened dudes. And that means all of us "from the treasurer of the Daughters of the American Revolution to the newly green-carded Korean business owner" benefit every day from the audacious gamble these cats made back in 1776. By throwing off monarchy, declaring religious freedom and enshrining that phrase "All men are created equal" in the new nation's first charter, these dead white guys on your money set in motion a dynamic that would, in time, destroy their own privilege. And they knew that's what they were doing.

Though the Founders were united in their determination for independence, that was about all that united them. They were a volatile lot, those Founders. They all nursed their resentments of each other. Hamilton and Jefferson detested each other. The priggish Adams looked down on the licentious Ben Franklin. They were not diverse in a demographic sense, but as personalities and ideologues, they were as different as they could be. They brawled and argued and pursued political dirty tricks against each other with zest. They were bound by their American-ness, and almost nothing more.

That presents the rest of us with a pretty good model on how to live together, don't you think? We too often lament how divided this country is, but the Founders showed us the paradoxical nature of a functioning democracy, united and divided at the same time.

Good advice, don't you think, B?

You and I, we reject these narrow attitudes

We add to each other, like a coral reef

Building bridges on the ocean floor

Reaching for the alien shore

For you and me -- We hold these truths to be self-evident

For you and me -- We'd elect each other president

For you and me -- We might agree

But that's just us

Reaching for the alien shore…

Just wanted to leave you with a little Rush ditty written by Neil. You'll understand the importance of that influence soon enough!

Love you,

Daddy K