Nephewisms

I am remarkably blessed by and with the nothing short of amazing kids in my extended family, and particularly it seems, with nephews of both the Pettit and Blakeney lineage.  Let's see.... one finished Clemson with a perfect 4.0 in Engineering, there are two nephew Eagle Scouts, a star high school athlete who will soon work his magic in a pool of swimming Gamecocks, a Demon Deacon who I am most modestly convinced will be President, a very young budding athlete with an undeniable competitive side, and now a drummer .....a drummer seemingly on the verge of something spectacularly special with his band Autopilot.

Autopilot.  Admittedly, there is a gorgeous blonde with the face of an angel and a gift for vocals, for the guitar, and for lyrics.  There is a talented and smooth indie guitarist or two.  But, this is about nephews, in this case my nephew..... a nephew drummer, a young star.  So pardon me, but  for  me, the doting aunt, he, my nephew, is Autopilot.  With Corey and Hunter,  he soars.....they soar.  With Autopilot, they become dream chasers, weaving their collective gifts into a truly remarkable one.

I love this Autopilot.  I hear Sheryl Crowe. I hear a little Carole King. These kids may not even know who she is. I hear moody and expressful guitars.  But, there is something....something I cannot quite verbalize....something....why yes of course, ...it's my nephew, the drummer!

I'm a wordie and unashamedly drawn to the lyrics.....the imagery of dancers in her eyes, the strength of I'm perfectly fine without you, the Southern simplicity of Sunday Driving.  Autopilot....speaking to and for a young generation....a day gone by.....days ahead.....love lost....new confidence found...... teenage hope.....teenage despair.....helplessness.....struggle.....strength.  I love them.  I truly do.

But, when you get right down to it, I most love the beat....probably because I most love the drummer who provides it. He's that special mix of handsome and sweet, of grace and awkwardness, of funny and serious, of introvert and extrovert, of humility and swag.  He always has been.  And he's mine.  Named for both his physician great grandfather and his physician grandfather....one who birthed half a city,  one who ministered to at least the other half, this boy like his mother's grandad and his mother's dad has, as our aunt would say, a certain je ne sais quois,  and it is indeed special.  This Vans wearing, skateboard stunting, tennis playing,  rather strange headgear sporting kid has his own.... very Carr version..... of it.

I love that Carr and Autopilot are chasing...chasing a dream...chasing their very own fireflies.  From a Durham basement, something special is born. Something special takes flight. From long working nights amidst North Carolina's almost mystical moonlight and magnolias comes legitimate hope of a Triangle music success story.  Like the lure of lightning bugs, a future success in Southern lights and maybe even beyond is calling.....calling Autopilot. 

A near term future holds Boston and LA, an excited father reliving his own youth and dreams through and with his son, and a mom finding a new, very chic sort of "indie hip."

My drummer nephew may someday be a star, like many of the other nephews in my family.  But, for Dee, he will always be that precious boy, the younger of her amazing sister, with a shy but slightly mischevious grin and an undeniable sparkle in his eye....a sparkle that, at least for Dee, has 'dee-finitely' said special since long before his drums.