The Birthday Party

About a year before going into the studio to begin recording "Going For Broke", while the original Avalanche band was still together, I realized that over five years had gone by since my Mom's murder, and not once, during all of that time since her funeral, had all of our family gotten together, alone, under one roof...I think partly because it brought back the reality of my Mom's absence...which was still painful for all of us...and I know that in my case at least, I was also having difficulty accepting the fact that my Dad and his new girlfriend, who had both refused to cooperate in the investigation of the murder...had married...a year later...as soon as it was socially acceptable to do so. There were a few Christmas Eve gatherings with our new stepmother and all of her children present, but that had just made us feel like we were visitors... in the house we had always known as our family home...and it was very awkward, and I missed the feeling of real family closeness with my Dad, and my brothers and sister that I had grown up with. I really wanted to do something about that...and I thought that the house on McCall Rd. was the perfect place for us to have a combination Dinner/Birthday party for my Dad. So I sent out the invitations, and was pleasantly surprised when all of my siblings, and my Dad and my new stepmother accepted. I decided to do all the cooking myself, because I thought it would mean more to him if I did, so I prepared a roast beef dinner with salads and side dishes...and I even baked a birthday cake. I got some very good French wine too...I wanted everyone, especially my Dad, to see that I was doing well after all the trauma I had endured from the murder and  its aftermath...and the estate on McCall Rd...and my current success with the band...was the perfect way to send that message. The night actually went much better than I had dared to hope it might...everyone seemed very happy to be together again...it felt very natural...and my Dad seemed to be the happiest of all. He was beaming and laughing, and was very relaxed....and I hadn't felt so good about the possibility of our family healing from the deep wounds the murder had created in all of us since it had happened. Everyone stayed until quite late that night, and after everyone had gone home...I felt very good inside...the best I had felt about our family in a very long time.

The next day, I stopped into my Dad's office to see him, and was completely taken aback by the change in him. He was cold, angry, and bitter...and he told me that on the way home from my house the night before, he and his new wife had their first-ever fight. She had told him that she had been afraid the entire time she was in my home...afraid that the police would break down the door at any moment. She had told him that she felt sick eating food that she believed was purchased with drug money...that being in my house had made her feel dirty...and that she had been terribly uncomfortable the entire time she had been there. I knew that was not the way it had appeared to be the night before...and I began to wonder if it was the healing process that had begun there at the party that had really made her feel so uncomfortable. My involvement in the drug business was something I had kept hidden from my Dad, but I also knew that he was not stupid, and was very well-connected, and at the very least, rumors of my participation in dealing must have reached his ears well before the night of his party...and on the night of his party took place...it just didn't appear to be an issue. The band's high profile success, both on radio, and in performances, at that time was a much more plausible and visible explanation for how I was earning my living. To me, it seemed as though my new stepmother perceived me as a threat to her in some way...maybe because I was the only person actively doing anything to try to reunite our family and begin that healing. I still don't know. But it didn't feel like the reason she gave him was the real one. Whatever it really was, she definetely knew what she needed to do about it. She needed to drive a wedge between me and my Dad. And whatever she had said to him...completely changed my Dad's attitude toward me, and that change in attitude lasted for many, many, years. He looked me squarely in the eyes and when he did, it was if he was looking at me for the very first time. He told me that as long as I had anything at all to do with drugs...I was not his son. He told me I was no longer welcome to visit him at his office...or at the house I had grown up in...he told me not to call him on the telephone, and that if we passed on the street...I should just keep on walking or driving...because he wouldn't acknowledge me in any way. And then he asked me to leave. I remember feeling totally crushed...and very angry...because I knew my Dad  hadn't felt like this the night before...this was his new wife's doing...and any suspicions and resentments I had about her just magnified and exploded at that time, because I felt if she really loved my Dad...she would never have done anything to spoil the joy and  the healing that he and all of us were obviously experiencing at the party...but because she was so quick to condemn it...she had to have been threatened by it, in some way. I couldn't understand any of it. What was this woman's real agenda? What was she really afraid of? This was way beyond righteous indignation. And it totally lacked  any compassion for what our family had already suffered through and was desperately trying to recover from. As I walked out of his office, wounded and hurt, and knowing in my heart that I had no idea how I could stop using drugs...they were just too powerful a force in my life...I felt very much like I was really an orphan...and a new sense of outrage towards the both of them welled up inside of me...and that resentment I felt towards them endured for many years to come...poisoning any chance of a meaningful relationship with them...as it reopened and infected my old wounds with a new venom that just fueled my rage...and my faulty perceptions. To what extent did that affect my  judgment and my addiction, and as a result, some of the choices I made during that last year with Avalanche...to hasten its downfall? I can't say...but it had to have been a significant factor...because the timing fits. And the old, too familiar pattern of an incredible euphoria, followed by an unexpected and unnaturally fast demise...creating unbearable feelings...had shown up yet again. That pattern had begun to feel like my destiny in this life. And it would appear again in less than a year, when Avalanche disintegrated...and many more times in the years to come. I came to expect disaster...and by doing that, I unconsciously created it. And it colored my view of everything...I had always wanted my father's approval of my music, and my life. Instead, I now had his contempt. My father's contempt of me...I suspect on some deep level...created in me, a contempt for myself. And after that happened...I know I only saw the world  as a totally hostile place...with no quarter...except for the one I made for myself...with my music and my drugs.