The song and video are both incredible. Aside from that, the guys of Never Shout Never have great style. I almost detect a hint of Parisian street style, which I wholly support.
Take a listen and savor the fact that your work week is more than half over.
A little over a month ago my dad passed away very unexpectedly. For all my skills at syntax and sentence structure, I can’t construct a tactful or clever way to tell this story, maybe because it isn’t meant to be either. Maybe it’s meant to be exactly what I need it to be: honest disclosure.
I struggled with how and when to tell people about my dad’s death. To be honest, most of my friends, including those reading this, don’t know. It took me days to tell even my closest inner circle. I’ve always prided myself on my incredible (and often fictitious) way of handling things on my own. I am my own man and my own island. I’d take the manly route of burying everything deep because I believed that’s what was expected. As I write this, those principles are still at the front of my mind.
I certainly had no intention of sharing this news with my readers. I was so wrapped up in building my brand that I worried how airing something so personal would reflect on The Modern Minion. But The Modern Minion didn’t lose a father. I did. Me. Andrew.
For the past month I’ve been managing the aftermath of my dad’s death. Arrangements were made, lawyers were consulted, and meetings were sat through. For weeks it was a constant storm of bills, insurance forms, death certificates, and paperwork. I was overwhelmed. I was broken. I was exhausted.
Just as things were beginning the settle down, I was offered a new job that I couldn’t decline. I transitioned from the stress of picking up after someone’s life to a long commute, even longer hours, and a seemingly endless list of things that had to get done immediately. But after enduring the fire, the frying pan doesn’t seem so rough.
A very good friend told me I wouldn’t miss my dad until he was missing. He’s right. In all the chaos of the last month, I don’t know that I’ve realized that he’s not coming back. The last time I saw my father is the last time I’ll see my father.
I don’t want this blog to be just a brand; I want it to be an extension of me. These pages need to be personal or my purpose for writing them is lost. They are pieces of me laid out for all to see. Some days they’ll be clever and stylish, other days they’ll be too contrived and fall flat. I think I’m okay with that, though.
The night is darkest just before the dawn. And I promise you, the dawn is coming.