My son, Henry Mowgli Gillespie, graduates from McCallum High School on Friday evening. It will be his first time on stage at the Erwin Center but perhaps not his last, as he is a musician and you just never know. Choosing the life of an artist (or having the universe impose the life of an artist upon you—who the hell knows which it is) is something I know firsthand. Living the nightmare that the dream sometimes seems—when you’re faced with three cut-off notices from the phone/electric/gas company, the rent is late, and the cupboards are bare— is, I can say with authority, most definitely worth it. Some parents might be horrified at the prospect of a child with no plans beyond playing the guitar and keyboards. I say to my son—You go girl! I am thrilled for you. And proud. And I’m not just saying that in hopes that you’ll skip writing angry songs about your fucked up childhood. more ›