The Wandering Mind of a Rolling Stone

It's 2003. I'm in the back of a van on a road trip through West Virginia. At this point, I'm about halfway through high school already driving and working, had my heart broken a couple times so I think I know everything there is to know about life; you know, typical American teenager. Anyway, so my buddy on this trip with me has a mix CD because in 2003, those were still a thing, and on it are two different Andrew W.K. tracks: the ubiquitous Party Hard and self-explanatory I Love NYC . I've never heard of this guy before so I have absolutely no preconceptions about his sound and what I'm greeted with is Meatloaf-esque arena rock with overdriven guitars, anthemic choruses, and fast-as-you-can melodies. It initially has me rolling my eyes; the inane simplicity of it all, the heavy repetition ("Party hard" is screamed over forty times during the track)...but there's something undeniably catchy about the whole so-dumb-it's-fun approach. As soon as

For years, North Carolina was just part of the commute to drive down to Florida. We didn't have family there growing up or really any friends. As I've written about before, we were largely a Virginia Beach family so it wasn't until I was in my teens that I set foot on its impressive beaches along the Outer Banks. But even driving just driving through it as a kid it was always a very striking state to me. I think it was the green. Virginia highways have plenty of trees lining them but there was something more vibrantly verdant about Carolina forests and the trees seemed to tower taller. You just visually knew when you were out of the Old Dominion and in the Tar Heel State, that moment when the interstate billboards transitioned from Jesus hotlines to sweet tea (But it's the South so Jesus still shows up). North Carolina seemed to be more nature-oriented and I remember hiking through the mountains later in life just silently taking it all in between pine trees nestled f

I think the simplest way I can explain the different in my parents' individual influences on me is this: My mother's influence on me has been largely proactive whereas my father's influence on me has been largely reactive. I think that largely stems from where they saw their own trajectories. As I've ever written on here before, my mother came from the opposite side of the planet. She's easily the more adventurous, daring one always pushing me to study up to become a doctor or lawyer in true tiger mom parenting. My father came from middle class suburbia and was content on achieving and maintaining middle class suburbia on his own terms; the status quo was something to be defended once it was earned in its all white picket fence, Norman Rockwell-esque glory. High school era. Three generations of Stone men. I think I fall somewhere in the middle: I like stability but I also get restless really easy in the face of stagnation. I never really dreamed of that white p

One of the cool things about growing up in Virginia is that family vacations to either the mountains or the beach were just a hop, skip, and a jump away in either direction. Every summer as a kid, I could count on camping somewhere along the Appalachian (usually with friends; my mom and sister were never really into camping) or going to the beach. While Ocean City up in Maryland was arguably closer to our home in Northern Virginia, my family usually preferred to vacation in Virginia Beach on the opposite end of the state. The cool thing about Virginia Beach is that in addition to the obvious oceanside recreation, all along Atlantic Avenue is a pretty solid boardwalk. Not quite Coney Island but all the super fried food, neon lit carnival games and rides, and haunted houses lined the beach. I can count the number of times I went to the county fair as a kid on a single hand. Virginia Beach had all that covered. But if I'm going all the way to the beach, I'm get as much sun, s