March Slave by Pyotr Tchaikovsky, Leonard Bernstein conducting the New York Philharmonic Orchestra.

To say I don’t like the direction much of Southern culture has taken would be an understatement. Though not all of us are so resistant to change. I know I changed a lot over my lifetime.

But there’s another reason I can’t give up on us: My dad.

My wife and I were chilling out, listening to music yesterday.

Out of nowhere, I suggested we listen to some classical music. I especially wanted to hear Tchaikovsky’s March Slav and Capricio Italien.

But it wasn’t out of nowhere. Sunday was Father’s Day.

If I ever wanted proof that the unconscious mind is always busy…

Dad has been gone for almost 30 years now, but I still miss the guy. Dad had failings. He was a man. But he gave me the parts of myself I’m most proud of.

When I discover a new band or a new type of music I always have this impulse: I have to see what Dad thinks of this. Then I remember I can’t. Dad was all about music. He played clarinet, directed high school band for many years.

He taught me to love music. Music was always playing in the house. He especially loved classical. I learned to love it myself. Also turned him onto the Alan Parsons Project late in life – he finally gave rock a chance.

When I read a book that makes my head spin, I wish I could talk to him about it. I can still see him lying on the couch with his nose in a book, or sitting at the kitchen table with a book and a bowl of popcorn.

He turned me onto science fiction by handing me a copy of The Star Beast by Robert Heinlein when I was 9 or 10. He turned the walls of our house into a library, full of history, literature and science. I could read anything I wanted.

Capriccio Italien by Pyotr Tchaikovsky, Berlin Philharmonic Conducted by Herbert von Karajan

He’s the reason it almost seems like I’m still in college. He talked to me like an adult, and could converse about nearly anything. I can’t stop reading the hard books and searching for Truth. That’s how he was.

He was a deacon in the Baptist Church. He directed the choir. He had four or five versions of the Bible, all highlighted and marked. He regularly consulted Isaac Asimov’s Guide to the Bible, even knowing that Asimov was an atheist.

If you couldn’t tell already he was not a typical Texan, Southerner or Baptist. But he had a curious mind and he grew, and changed. He came from poor and working class Southerners transplanted to West Texas. He served in the military, went to college and found a way earn a living from music in rural Texas.

Many of his best qualities came via education and the military, but some of them came from Southern culture. If Southern Culture managed to produce someone like my dad, there has to be something in it worth saving.

I guess this is one of those things that I’ve been hung up trying to express. Hope I did OK.