Music saved my life
Those marks don’t go away. They ebb and flow, as they did for me, until Little Bean came along. The difference, as she begins her own musical journey, is that she doesn’t have to make this trip alone. This adventure can be ours, if that’s what she wants.

O P I N I O N
TRANSCENDENTAL DAD
By Dan Szczesny

In my late teens and early twenties, music literally saved me.
Recently, I watched a short film about Pink Floyd’s album Wish You Were Here and in it, a reactor listened to the title song for the first time and they were nearly brought to tears.
Music can move you, save you, and I’m here to testify to that. And before I’m crucified for my taste in music, it’s worth noting that mostly (not all the time, but mostly) the style or genre doesn’t matter.
There was a time there, after my mum died, when I’d go to high school or in my early years of college, then come home and have maybe an hour before I had to leave for work at the mall flipping pizzas. I’d come back home at night, try to get some homework done and then the next morning I’d do it all again. And again. And again.
So that hour in the middle of it all became sanctuary. I’d make a sandwich, put on headphones and spin ’70s rock on my crummy turntable.
I’d have maybe 20-30 minutes to listen. My turntable arm was plastic and junky so I’d put a quarter on the end in order for it to pick up the grooves. To this day, when I hear CCR’s version of “Suzie Q” I hear the scratches in the vinyl from that quarter.
Music was mine. I claimed it. And in return, all those classic rock and metal bands – they saved me, allowed me control, brought me here, pulled me through, gave me life.
Those marks don’t go away. They ebb and flow, as they did for me, until Little Bean came along. The difference, as she begins her own musical journey, is that she doesn’t have to make this trip alone. This adventure can be ours, if that’s what she wants.

My journey was to save me. Hers can be to empower her. We’ve head-banged with the best, throwing horns to AC/DC tribute bands along with rock girl outfits like The Warning and Plush.
In these pages of Manchester Ink Link, where she’s a kid reporter, she’s interviewed a teen band called Freeze the Fall. Where I had the ability and resources only to listen, doors are opening for her to meet and greet and explore.
Next week, in fact, she’ll attend a pre-show, back stage presser at SNHU Arena and meet some performers and musicians from Cirque du Soleil’s upcoming OVO show. She’ll get a tour of the production, talk to the performers and learn about the music. We’ll report back to you all on how that went.
But the musical journey doesn’t end there. Recently, a close friend of the family offered Little Bean a piano. A real, honest to gosh, stand up piano. The friend is downsizing. The piano needs a home. Little Bean begins her second season of piano lessons in September, so the pieces appear to be coming together.
I’m not going to push her. I’m going to facilitate her interest whichever way that takes us. We’ll try something that I didn’t have in my life during that time – she’ll have a companion on her journey. Instead of forcing her to practice, maybe I’ll let her teach me. Instead of deciding who and when she meets or interviews, I’ll help her pick and choose and develop questions. She can take the pictures and the video.
Where will this lead – this writing and music and interviewing? I don’t know. I doubt she knows. And maybe it’s best that we don’t actually have a plan. Maybe not having a plan will make it seem more like play. Maybe it being play, will make it stick. But if it doesn’t, we’ll still have The Beatles, and signed drum sticks, and an old, beautiful piano, and pictures from backstage at Cirque du Soleil.
My baby and my family and the music that once saved me – now the music that brings us, all of us, together.
You can reach Dan Szczesny at danszczesny@gmail.com