Dave Charlton & DeadRise
My whole life, I’d heard people refer to my dad as “David” (usually in a professional capacity, since that’s where I mostly witnessed him interacting with people who knew him) or “Dr. Charlton” (his students, or, sometimes, coworkers). I knew him – other than “Dad” – as David. But I started to notice, when I became a teenager, that his dad – my granddad, Gordon Charlton – would refer to him as “Dave.” Then, I noticed my aunt and uncle (his siblings) and various other extended relatives on my dad’s side all referring to him as “Dave.” When I got my hands on his old yearbooks, there he was: “Dave Charlton.”
It’s my opinion, based on observation, that this is like another entity on the flipside of the coin of my dad’s consciousness. “Dave” was a drummer for bands. “Dave” had long hair and occasionally a ‘70s mustache or goatee. “Dave” was president of his fraternity in college. “Dave” had memorized the label on Budweiser beers.
I saw “Dave” come out – I now realize – as a kid, when my dad would come home (he traveled a lot for work, then), and we would have “dance nights,” where he would break out his vinyls and spin 33s and 45s into the evening, while my brother and I danced around with my mom.
I can’t comment too much on this, because I’m not him, so I, really, in a sense, have no idea what I’m talking about. Except that I do, from my own experiencing of him throughout my life. Obviously, there’s nothing wrong with “David” - he is just somewhat different from “Dave,” and they are both, unavoidably, somewhat different from “Dad.”
In the past few years, my dad linked up with a few local guys back in my home area in Virginia, and their band DeadRise was formed (see “Associated” on the Home page). I believe “Dave” Charlton saw his chance and pushed forward into the light of my dad’s consciousness, and he is actually the drummer for DeadRise.
If you are ever in the Northern Neck of Virginia or surrounding areas, keep an eye on these guys. They rock.
So, thank you, “Dave,” for DJing our dance parties, blasting rock cassettes in the car, and teaching/showing us how to groove and dig music as it should properly be dug. And thank you, “Dad,” for showing me my first chords on guitar and always encouraging me to keep going and keep going. And thank you, “David,” & "Dr. Charlton" for, unconsciously, showing me how to walk through life like a man, taking responsibility for myself.