Throughout my life, “Weird Al" Yankovic has been both a blessing and a curse. I have been a big fan since my family bought the 45 of “Fat” in 1988. I was five years old at the time, and in my mind I can still hear the crackling of the vinyl emitted by our record player as it began the track. Little did I know at the time that this comedic and musical prodigy would become a weapon of punishment wielded by my parents to cement some important life lessons into my psyche.

I’d like to share two such events, so you, the reader, can hopefully understand why I am over the moon excited about the pair of balcony tickets I hold in my (virtual) hand to see “Weird Al" in concert in Austin, TX on Tuesday.

The Card

For my 12th birthday, what I wanted most was this CD. Didn’t ask for anything else. I was in the middle of filming an original mock soap opera with two of my cousins entitled, “The Young, The Dumb, and The Ugly.” (We made one season and an incomplete full length film.) This album not only had the new Headline News song, but it had lots of other great songs to populate the soundtrack of our show. I was on track to get it, when disaster struck.

Shortly before my birthday, I was running after my brother trying to take something from him. He ducked into the upstairs den and slammed the door in my face. I began pounding, kicking, and screaming. Then…my foot went through the door. I fell silent with fear. He opened it, looked at the door, then back at me. Like any loving older brother would do, he teased, “Oooooooo…you’re in so much trouble!” And slammed the door again.

I don’t remember if my parents yelled at me. Don’t think they did. What I do remember is that all I got for my birthday that year was this card.

A big old, slap in the face, hope you enjoyed that kick to the door, maybe you’ll think twice next time, mahalo…present.

Thanks, Mom and Dad. I love the door. It’s perfect.

The Lawn Mower

By 16 years old, I had lost myself to 90′s alternative rock and hip-hop. 311, Weezer, and 2pac had their own pages in my Case Logic wallet (along with “Weird Al”). Moving to a new school, I was acutely critical of the persona I presented to my new classmates, hoping to put my best foot forward. Likely a mistake at the time, I shoved two of my favorite things, Computers and Mr. Yankovic, into the background and emphasized my other interests.

One day my mom came to me and presented what should have seemed like an opportunity of a life time. “Weird Al" Yankovic was performing a free show at the Orange County Fair, just up the 405 and a regular summer spot for me growing up. He hadn’t played there before (it has since become a regular stop for him), and she was planning to take the entire family. Being a “cool” teenager, I blew this off as a childish relic even though internally Harvey the Wonder Hamster was doing 27 flips in my mind. She rolled her eyes at my reaction.

Mid July 1999, the event was just a week away. I was ecstatic. I was going to see George Newman in person! What if I got a chance to actually meet him? My teenage brain couldn’t comprehend…as evidenced by how this final week played out.

Mom reminded me that our lawn needed to be mowed and that it was my responsibility. If it wasn’t mowed by Wednesday night, the night of the show, I wouldn’t be going. “Yeah, whatever,” I quipped, “I don’t really want to go anyways. But I’ll make sure it’s mowed just so I can be there with the family.”

Cue the procrastination monkey.

Wednesday night arrived, and our lawn was longer than “Trapped in the Drive Thru”. I wasn’t too concerned as I got ready. I simply hadn’t found time to mow it, what with all the TRL that had to be watched after school. As I came down the stairs, my mom was there to greet me. “The lawn isn’t mowed. We’re all hopping in the car in five minutes.”

Cue the panic monster.

I raced to the garage and wheeled out the lawn mower. Pulling the cable, the 0.5 horsepower engine combusted to life. This was going to be the fastest mow job ever. Well, until three seconds later when the engine sputtered to a halt. WHAT?! Tried the pull cord again. Nothing. The lawn mower was out of gas. I darted back into the garage, pushing past my siblings who were now piling into our Astro van. Found the gas can and, to my horror, it weighed next to nothing. Was this really happening?

So there I was. Kneeling down on the driveway next to our lawn mower, gas can fully inverted, banging on the sides trying to extract every last ounce of fossil fuel in the bottle. I knew it was futile, though. I watched as my family pulled out of the driveway without me, headin’ for the biggest ball of twine in Minnesota.

Mom and Dad, thank you for leaving me on the assault that day with nothing but fumes. Their intoxicating bouquet helped to mask the immense pain in my chest.

17 Years Later

Here we are. I’ve since publicly embraced both my love of computers and “Weird Al” again. And yet, I still have never seen him in concert. That is all going to change in less than 48 hours. That is, of course, if I do as my wife has mandated and mow the lawn first.