"Yeah, I Know What You Mean"
The past few weeks have been filled with bad news. An old school mate of mine, Kirk Harms, was tragically killed on his farm in Bertha. My good friend Brian and Beth’s aunt Gayle both totaled out their cars while doing their best automotive impressions of “Stars on Ice.” Thank God no one was hurt. And a couple days ago, my cousin Corey was accidentally shot in the head. More than anyone else, it sounds like he is the big winner of the lottery. I’ve heard no news in the last day or so, and as a nurse I know he’s not out of the woods yet, but my hunch is that things are going to be alright… nothing compared to what might have been. Keep him in your prayers -- God knows he’s already got a guardian angel looking out for him!
I need to talk about something positive. Can I get a witness?!
About now, some of you probably think I have some kind of weird man-love for Bon Jovi. I think it is time I clear the air about that -- this isn't some freaky "groupie" gay thing. Those of you reading this probably know me (truth is, I don’t know who reads this!), but if you know me, you know that music is very special to me. I rarely have tunes playing in the background just for atmosphere -- if there’s a song playing, I usually have one ear listening to it (my wife hates that, especially when she’s trying to tell me something). I regard music as more than just a nice sound; it has meaning and emotion and certain bands really put it all together for me. Bon Jovi is one of those bands. Bon Jovi has always written songs about life which I’ve been able to identify with -- where I’ve heard a lyric and said “Yeah, I know what you mean.”
In a strange way, I’ve come to regard the band as “old friends.” Their music has gotten me through quite a lot in the last 25 years. Let me try to make you understand.
First of all, there’s just something decent about the members of the band. Jon Bon Jovi has been married to his high school sweetheart for 20 years and they have four kids. He has done a ton of charitable work, working closely with Habitat for Humanity, American Red Cross, and the Special Olympics, among many others. Without saying a word, he donated the funds to build 28 homes for Habitat for Humanity after Hurricane Katrina and is in the process of helping rebuild, out of his own pocket, an entire city block of run down homes in Philadelphia (he owns the Philadelphia Soul of the Arena Football League). I had to research to find this information, because it is not necessarily public knowledge. To me, that alone is cool enough to be a fan of the band, but there’s something else: the music.
When it comes right down to it, I look at Bon Jovi’s music as more or less the soundtrack to my life for the past 25 years. My first slow dance as a freshman was at the Sno-Daze dance in the Bertha-Hewitt gym. The year was 1985. The song was “Silent Night,” one of Bon Jovi’s early ballads. I was at the age when I started realizing that girls didn’t have germs and good ol’ Jon Bon Jovi helped me get that first dance. The best part is that I don’t remember who I danced with, but I remember what the song was!
My very first rock concert was Bon Jovi way back in June 1987. Like Stacy mentioned in one of her comments, I gave her a ticket to that concert and it was the event of the summer, folks. I remember walking into the old Met Center arena for the first time and seeing their stage. Everything was just so… so HUGE! “Bon Jovi” was spelled out in huge red letters on the black surface of the stage and there was a big ramp encircling Tico’s huge double bass drum set. I couldn’t take my eyes off those drums. Wow!
After sitting in our seats in anticipation for about 45 minutes, the music over the PA got loud, the crowd started to stir and finally house lights faded to black. For the first time ever, I felt the roar of 16,000 people as we simultaneously jumped to our feet -- it was one of the biggest rushes I’ve ever had in my life. My heart was pounding at about 150 beats per minute. And suddenly there they were: They opened with “Raise Your Hands,” while emerging from a cloud of stage fog and white rain lights. And there was Jon Bon Jovi strutting out on stage with his perfect big hair, ripped jean jacket and a great big smile on his face. That was it for me. I remembered thinking to myself That is what I want to do with my life. And it is funny, because at the time I didn’t think it was impossible. When I hear those songs now, it takes me back to those days. Days when anything seemed possible.
In 1988, the year I graduated from high school, they released a song called “Blood on Blood” which was Jon Bon Jovi’s autobiographical account of three old friends from the same hometown who went their separate ways after graduation, but were always connected by an invisible and indivisible bond. The message was simple: the friends you had when you were young will be your friends until the day you die. It proved to be prophetic in my own life.
Like Bon Jovi, I’ve grown older. Just like my own life, their music has changed over the years and I’ve never stopped connecting with what they’ve had to say. A few years ago, they released a song called “Just Older”. The chorus goes Like my favorite pair of torn blue jeans, the skin I’m in is alright with me. I’m not old, just older. It was a “Yeah, I know what you mean” moment for me.
Just a couple years ago, Jon Bon Jovi and Richie Sambora (Bon Jovi’s lead guitarist and co-songwriter) wrote a song called “Who Says You Can’t Go Home” which was a massive hit. I thought it would be a great theme for Farm Fest because the words said it all: I spent twenty years trying to get out of this place… now there‘s only one place left I want to go, who says you can‘t go home? -- once again, a Bon Jovi song with a “I know what you mean” moment for me -- so we decided to learn that song to kick off Farm Fest and when I heard my brother Dale nail the lead guitar part for the first time, it was one of my happiest Farm Fest memories. To this day when I hear that song, I think of the farm in Hewitt and I think of Dale belting out the lead. That was a special moment for me.
When we saw Bon Jovi in November 2005, Beth was six months pregnant. The little baby in her belly was doing flips and cartwheels all through the concert and afterwards we decided to name our little girl Ava, after Richie Sambora’s daughter.
Lastly, on February 9, 2006 my beautiful Ava was born. That evening, after having been awake for 32 hours, I was the most physically and emotionally exhausted I had ever been in my life. But at that moment in time, my life was perfect. I went home that evening and when I got in the car and turned on the CD player, Bon Jovi’s song “Welcome To Wherever You Are” was playing. As I pulled out of the hospital parking lot, I started listening to the words and thinking about my life, my wife and my beautiful new daughter. The words to the chorus kept echoing through my head: Welcome to wherever you are. This is your life, you’ve made it this far. I’m not ashamed to admit to anyone reading this that as I drove home, I cried harder than I’ve ever cried in my life. It was the ultimate “Yeah, I know what you mean” moment for me: Right here, right now is exactly where you‘re supposed to be. Welcome to wherever you are. My reaction probably had more to do with my sleep-deprived state of psychosis at the time, but it just happened to be that song by that band at that moment in my life. I suppose it was just coincidence, but a part of me still thinks of it as my “old friends” popping in to telling me “Congratulations and welcome to fatherhood. You‘re going to be okay.” The truth is, at that moment, it was exactly what I needed to hear.
So I supposed this makes me sound like one of those obsessed fans. But I’m not. Bon Jovi’s music simply touches me in a way not many other artists do. I bet if Jon Bon Jovi read this, he’d probably say, “That’s why we do what we do.” I think the biggest thing is that their music has always been real and it's always come from the heart, and because of that, it is no coincidence that Bon Jovi has been around for two and a half decades, sold 120 million albums world wide and their last album, Lost Highway, was their very first album to debut at #1. I think that’s a testament as to how others feel about the band. It’s not just me.
I need to talk about something positive. Can I get a witness?!
About now, some of you probably think I have some kind of weird man-love for Bon Jovi. I think it is time I clear the air about that -- this isn't some freaky "groupie" gay thing. Those of you reading this probably know me (truth is, I don’t know who reads this!), but if you know me, you know that music is very special to me. I rarely have tunes playing in the background just for atmosphere -- if there’s a song playing, I usually have one ear listening to it (my wife hates that, especially when she’s trying to tell me something). I regard music as more than just a nice sound; it has meaning and emotion and certain bands really put it all together for me. Bon Jovi is one of those bands. Bon Jovi has always written songs about life which I’ve been able to identify with -- where I’ve heard a lyric and said “Yeah, I know what you mean.”
In a strange way, I’ve come to regard the band as “old friends.” Their music has gotten me through quite a lot in the last 25 years. Let me try to make you understand.
First of all, there’s just something decent about the members of the band. Jon Bon Jovi has been married to his high school sweetheart for 20 years and they have four kids. He has done a ton of charitable work, working closely with Habitat for Humanity, American Red Cross, and the Special Olympics, among many others. Without saying a word, he donated the funds to build 28 homes for Habitat for Humanity after Hurricane Katrina and is in the process of helping rebuild, out of his own pocket, an entire city block of run down homes in Philadelphia (he owns the Philadelphia Soul of the Arena Football League). I had to research to find this information, because it is not necessarily public knowledge. To me, that alone is cool enough to be a fan of the band, but there’s something else: the music.
When it comes right down to it, I look at Bon Jovi’s music as more or less the soundtrack to my life for the past 25 years. My first slow dance as a freshman was at the Sno-Daze dance in the Bertha-Hewitt gym. The year was 1985. The song was “Silent Night,” one of Bon Jovi’s early ballads. I was at the age when I started realizing that girls didn’t have germs and good ol’ Jon Bon Jovi helped me get that first dance. The best part is that I don’t remember who I danced with, but I remember what the song was!
My very first rock concert was Bon Jovi way back in June 1987. Like Stacy mentioned in one of her comments, I gave her a ticket to that concert and it was the event of the summer, folks. I remember walking into the old Met Center arena for the first time and seeing their stage. Everything was just so… so HUGE! “Bon Jovi” was spelled out in huge red letters on the black surface of the stage and there was a big ramp encircling Tico’s huge double bass drum set. I couldn’t take my eyes off those drums. Wow!
After sitting in our seats in anticipation for about 45 minutes, the music over the PA got loud, the crowd started to stir and finally house lights faded to black. For the first time ever, I felt the roar of 16,000 people as we simultaneously jumped to our feet -- it was one of the biggest rushes I’ve ever had in my life. My heart was pounding at about 150 beats per minute. And suddenly there they were: They opened with “Raise Your Hands,” while emerging from a cloud of stage fog and white rain lights. And there was Jon Bon Jovi strutting out on stage with his perfect big hair, ripped jean jacket and a great big smile on his face. That was it for me. I remembered thinking to myself That is what I want to do with my life. And it is funny, because at the time I didn’t think it was impossible. When I hear those songs now, it takes me back to those days. Days when anything seemed possible.
In 1988, the year I graduated from high school, they released a song called “Blood on Blood” which was Jon Bon Jovi’s autobiographical account of three old friends from the same hometown who went their separate ways after graduation, but were always connected by an invisible and indivisible bond. The message was simple: the friends you had when you were young will be your friends until the day you die. It proved to be prophetic in my own life.
Like Bon Jovi, I’ve grown older. Just like my own life, their music has changed over the years and I’ve never stopped connecting with what they’ve had to say. A few years ago, they released a song called “Just Older”. The chorus goes Like my favorite pair of torn blue jeans, the skin I’m in is alright with me. I’m not old, just older. It was a “Yeah, I know what you mean” moment for me.
Just a couple years ago, Jon Bon Jovi and Richie Sambora (Bon Jovi’s lead guitarist and co-songwriter) wrote a song called “Who Says You Can’t Go Home” which was a massive hit. I thought it would be a great theme for Farm Fest because the words said it all: I spent twenty years trying to get out of this place… now there‘s only one place left I want to go, who says you can‘t go home? -- once again, a Bon Jovi song with a “I know what you mean” moment for me -- so we decided to learn that song to kick off Farm Fest and when I heard my brother Dale nail the lead guitar part for the first time, it was one of my happiest Farm Fest memories. To this day when I hear that song, I think of the farm in Hewitt and I think of Dale belting out the lead. That was a special moment for me.
When we saw Bon Jovi in November 2005, Beth was six months pregnant. The little baby in her belly was doing flips and cartwheels all through the concert and afterwards we decided to name our little girl Ava, after Richie Sambora’s daughter.
Lastly, on February 9, 2006 my beautiful Ava was born. That evening, after having been awake for 32 hours, I was the most physically and emotionally exhausted I had ever been in my life. But at that moment in time, my life was perfect. I went home that evening and when I got in the car and turned on the CD player, Bon Jovi’s song “Welcome To Wherever You Are” was playing. As I pulled out of the hospital parking lot, I started listening to the words and thinking about my life, my wife and my beautiful new daughter. The words to the chorus kept echoing through my head: Welcome to wherever you are. This is your life, you’ve made it this far. I’m not ashamed to admit to anyone reading this that as I drove home, I cried harder than I’ve ever cried in my life. It was the ultimate “Yeah, I know what you mean” moment for me: Right here, right now is exactly where you‘re supposed to be. Welcome to wherever you are. My reaction probably had more to do with my sleep-deprived state of psychosis at the time, but it just happened to be that song by that band at that moment in my life. I suppose it was just coincidence, but a part of me still thinks of it as my “old friends” popping in to telling me “Congratulations and welcome to fatherhood. You‘re going to be okay.” The truth is, at that moment, it was exactly what I needed to hear.
So I supposed this makes me sound like one of those obsessed fans. But I’m not. Bon Jovi’s music simply touches me in a way not many other artists do. I bet if Jon Bon Jovi read this, he’d probably say, “That’s why we do what we do.” I think the biggest thing is that their music has always been real and it's always come from the heart, and because of that, it is no coincidence that Bon Jovi has been around for two and a half decades, sold 120 million albums world wide and their last album, Lost Highway, was their very first album to debut at #1. I think that’s a testament as to how others feel about the band. It’s not just me.
