New York Times Piece Chronicles How a Mother Came to Appreciate Metal
It’s not often that we get to post stories which will warm the cockles of your heart here on MetalSucks. But today brings such an occasion! A nice lady named Gail Kretchmer has penned an article for The New York Times in which she discusses taking her eighteen-year-old son, Dylan, on 70,000 Tons of Metal at his request — and how the experience made her appreciate the value of metal.
See, when Gail and Dylan first boarded the cruise, their relationship was already strained (“[Dylan] had grown into someone dark and angry… He had called me unthinkable names and shattered my heart to smithereens.”), and Gail’s initial reaction to the ship’s other passengers was less-than-positive:
Once on board, I immediately worried about my decision. The passengers wore black T-shirts with words like “Dark Tranquillity,” “Death Angel” and “Rage” printed on the front and images of skulls, daggers and dead babies on the back. They were tattooed and pierced, loud and boisterous. They listened to grating electric guitars. They screamed and growled to the music as though being tortured. They sang lyrics about death and dismemberment.
But then the story took a dramatic turn!
Dylan came into our cabin each night quietly and turned on his laptop. In the glow of the computer screen, I saw that old smile on his face, the old twinkle in his gray-green eyes. I propped myself up on an elbow and listened to his animated dissertation about the day: the bands he saw, the people he met, the T-shirts he bought. He even tried to educate me about the music, the different subgenres, the meaning behind the violence.
“It’s about social issues, freedom of thought and power,” he said one night, sounding not unlike the messages in the music of my youth.
Awwwwwww. Couldn’t you just die?
The article concludes:
On the last evening of the cruise, Dylan and I passed each other near the outdoor stage. When I saw him, I knew not to acknowledge him, as that had been the unspoken rule before the cruise began, and I prepared to look away. But as he passed me by, I couldn’t help but glance at him — children, even grown ones, are magnets for a mother’s eyes — and what I saw shocked me. There he stood, his right hand held close in to his chest, his fingers waving at me. He was acknowledging my presence in the midst of this dark otherworld. He was once again accepting me into his life.
I still don’t particularly like metal music or the metal culture. But that cruise gave me the opportunity to see that Dylan was still the good person I knew he was, despite his choice in music. And it gave us the opportunity to set things right in our relationship. For these reasons, I can honestly say I’m grateful for metal music. It brought my son back to me.
Excuse me… sniff, sniff… I’m getting a little choked up over here… sniff…
Read the entire piece here.
Thanks: Metal GF