A rock and roll Mother's Day.

Yesterday, I finally returned to Hyde Street after a long absence to... RAWK.

Sort of.

Actually, Andy "The Drummer" Korn grooved and pounded his way through three tunes, while I sat on the couch. Thanks to Jaime "The Engineer" Durr, the sounds coming though the control monitors had a level warmth, clarity, energy and punch that only Jaime can beckon. Seriously, his ability to place mics so that they capture the drums, the room and the human playing is unrivaled in my experience.

Everything was going along nicely, when I glanced at my watch and realized I had to GO. My parents were coming over for a Mother's Day dinner, and I had promised Catherine I would be home by 5:15.

I scooted, and made it home by roughly 5:12. That's EARLY in my book.

Naturally, Catherine had everything set up, so there was very little for me to do (she'd even prepared a martini mixing kit for my Dad).

The night was grand, with good food, some wine, lots of conversation. And this morning, when I woke up, I asked myself something I had never asked myself before: who's more responsible for my noise making, my Mom or my Dad? Hmmm...

Both of my parents have always been very supportive of my musical ambitions, but if I had to guess who I inherited a few musical genes from, I'd have to go with my Mom. Not that my Dad isn't musical -- he played drums and piano in his younger days and, along with my mom, has been a lifelong devotee of classical music -- I just think my Dad's art form has been business, while my Mom's choices are closer to my own.

She's a quilter, and over the years she's also pursued knitting, sewing, macramé and even pottery. More important, at least given the question at hand, is that her approach to art is a lot like mine. We both go for the structured stuff. For my Mom, that means quilts based on repeating geometric patterns and highly intentional uses of color (see pic!). For me, structured means songs not jams. Nope, no hippie-psychedelic wanderings into innerspace, where all is one and one is all and you just have to go with it, man. Nah, give me two to four minutes of structured, focused music.

My Mom worries that her structured approach to art makes her less creative than quilters who have a free way with the cloth. Well, art is a subjective thing and no opinion works for everyone, but for me, I don't think a free form approach to art is more creative. I think it's less. I always think about Robert Frost's line about free verse poetry being like tennis without a net, and I agree with him. Anyway, this is a debate raging far beyond the confines of my little blog, so I'll just close with saying Thank You, Mom, for giving me some very much appreciated musical DNA. Happy Mother's Day!