Melody With a Memory - “Payin’ Hard”
Melodies and memories are something that always connects for me. I am a massive music fan, always have been. I think music is one of the very few things in this life that can really, truly bring people together - across race, religion, politics, gender, etc. There’s something beautiful about how we all experience life and how, for a good portion of us, we can connect our favorite songs to specific moments and people and memories in our life. Music reminds us that while we aren’t all the same, we all experience the same emotions and have similar enough experiences to be able to empathize with each other. It’s why sad music is so cathartic. It reminds us that we aren’t alone.
So that is what brings me to this blog post. I’ve had this idea for a while and quite frankly, I’m not sure how well this will be received. But that’s not the point of it. I’m going to discuss Kip Moore’s “Payin’ Hard” and why it’s become my favorite Kip song and a top 5 song of all time for myself.
“Payin’ Hard’” is the final track to Moore’s 2020 album Wild World. That album deserved a lot more recognition than it got in the midst of the pandemic. I’m a huge Kip Moore fan, so chances are every record of his will be one of my favorites, but this record has a special place in my heart due to the final track. There’s a million reasons why I love this incredible song, but the biggest reason is that I lost my father in 2015. The second verse of this track resonates with me in a way that no other song has before. I knew the context of this song before the record came out and immediately listened to it at midnight, day of release. I vividly remember that feeling of getting hit by an emotional truck over and over and listening to the song probably 5 or 6 times before I eventually had to sleep. Sometimes there are just songs that hit you in a way that it feels like you’re the only person in the world that has ever had that feeling before. That’s what “Payin’ Hard” is for me.
So now let me talk about the reason it hit so incredibly hard, my dad.
I lost my father on September 6, 2015. The anniversary always chokes me up to varying degrees every year, but now it’s been 8 years to the day since he passed. My dad, also Marty Kurtz (or “Big Marty” as most people would call him to differentiate us"), had health issues for a few years before his passing, but his death was still quick and unexpected. He was in his late 50’s. No kid ever wants to think that their hero will leave them, especially their first week of junior year in college.
But mine did. I never thought I would hear those words coming out of my Uncle Bob’s mouth when I got that phone call of “Marty, your dad is gone”. My dad was an avid smoker and drinker. He passed away in his sleep the previous night due to his organs shutting down from years of alcohol abuse.
My dad was a good man. A kind man. The kind of man that would give you his last dollar or the shirt off his back. His favorite statement was “What goes around comes around”. It was never taken in a context of karmic retribution, it was always taken in the positive context that if you treat people good, (generally) people will treat you good. He tried his hardest to live that statement every day. And for me, living that exact phrase has done a whole lot of good for me. I even have the audio waveform of my dad saying that statement tattooed on my right bicep and the audio waveform of myself saying it on my left. Felt that was kind of poetic to do.
My dad was your run of the mill, every day, hardworking factory worker. Ballcap, pocket t-shirt (of course for his cigarettes), and a mostly model employee. He showed up every day and did his job. He wasn’t without fault though. He was an alcoholic, he was stubborn and believed in what he believed in, and towards the end…no matter how kind he was to others, his depression from losing that factory job overshadowed him and made him lose himself.
My dad was my best friend. We had a bond that every father and son dreamed of. He always put me first and tried his damndest to instill good life values in me. Which, I think he accomplished. Even when he was working, my family was never made of money. But what we lacked in money, my father made up with time. Spending Saturday mornings hauling me to bowling and cheering me on, shooting pool with me at the American Legion, spending countless nights watching Indians games (yeah, thank my old man for my baseball obsession) and talking about everything under the sun and how to solve the worlds’ problems.
The last couple years of his life were trying times though. Home life wasn’t good for me, so at 18 I moved out and went to college. Even on breaks, I lived with a buddy and his family for a couple years. That led to a lot of contention and missed opportunities for time spent with him. While I still visited and helped around the house when I could, I wish I would have spent more time with him. While the love was always there between me and him, neither one of us really knew how to show it during that time and I have a lot of regret there. Especially on the Father’s Day before he passed.
He wasn’t a fan of Hallmark holidays or making things about himself. Unfortunately, a characteristic that I also gained from him. But I let Father’s Day that year go without even giving him a call. No clue why I didn’t. I was probably busy doing something stupid and it slipped my mind. Even though he played it off like he didn’t care, looking back I’d love to yell at that 19 year old kid and tell him to go give his dad a hug. There’s not a Father’s Day, his birthday, or the anniversary of his passing that I don’t think about that missed opportunity and regret it immensely.
So, as you can tell…”Payin’ Hard” hits me close to the chest. In all aspects. Of course, I have felt the feeling of letting “the one” get away and how sometimes, you just don’t have any more to say. But the verse about Kip’s dad, line by line, is how I experienced my father’s passing and the anniversary of his death. Kip’s father passed away early on in his career, when Kip was touring town to town. He always thought he had more time to see his dad until he didn’t. There was always another chance to catch up with my old man - a next visit. Until you get that call one Sunday into your junior year and you don’t have that opportunity anymore.
“Well I've heard it said that moments come and then they pass
And it sure passed me by when I should've saw my dad
But I plugged it in to another town
Swore another chance would come around again
Yeah I plugged it in to another town
Swore another chance would come around again
And now it's gone the kinda gone that don't come back
I only see him now in dreams that I have
I gotta live with that
Lose sleep with that
When I close my eyes
I'll die with that, yeah
It’s been 8 years and to this day I still have vivid dreams of my father and I. For a moment, I’m 16 and we’re sitting in the recliners in the garage. He’s smoking his cigarette, then sipping on a Milwaukee’s Best Ice, telling me about what he was like at 16. For that moment, there’s a peace there. But soon, I’ll wake up, mid conversation, and that feeling of loss and grief gets me every single time. It’s a bittersweet feeling that I would never wish on my worst enemy, because as Kip sings “I gotta live with that, lose sleep with, when I close my eyes, I’ll die with that”.
Because what else can you truly do? I’ve done all the things. Therapy. Cathartic venting. I even have a playlist called “Dad” on my phone with all the songs that get my feelings out. I hold onto the memories and live in my most authentic way by honoring him in ways that I think he’d appreciate. After my dad died, I went home, took care of his arrangements and his memorial service, did the eulogy, and shipped back off to college only a week later. That’s a lot for anyone, especially a 20 year old kid who had to step up and be the adult in the room. When I got back to Muskingum, people were shocked and worried about my mental health, as they should have. But my response was “What else can I do? It’s what my dad would want”.
You have to learn to live with uncomfortable things. Sometimes things happen out of your control and somebody dies, or you get divorced, or your heart explodes at 27. And you have to deal with the fallout. You have to learn to live with the grief and the regrets and the loneliness and that sucks. The line in “Payin’ Hard” that goes “My life’s a credit card, play now, pay later, and I’m payin’ hard” directly correlates with that. Sometimes, you take chances with your money. Sometimes, your time. Every decision has a consequence, but I think we know which one of those two is more valuable.
So, in the end, today is a rough day but it’s also a good day in the sense that I got 20 years of good things to remember about my old man. All those years of life lessons and love have molded me into the man I am today. He’s the single biggest influence in my life and that probably won’t change unless I have a child of my own. After all these years, I still get the occasional “You look so much like your father” from those that knew him when he was my age. I can clearly see it now in a way that I didn’t before. I feel it when I go out of my way to help somebody, especially when they don’t ask for it. It’s most of the reason why I almost always wear a baseball hat, just because he did. That heart of gold that my father passed down to me is the biggest gift that keeps on giving. My humor is a lot like his, a bunch of goofy, well placed one liners. It was never exactly what he said that made it funny, it was how he said it. Hell, even my heart has gotten me into trouble on occasion. Every day, I make a realization that I’m a lot more like him than even sometimes I want to admit. We’re all a product of those who came before us and raised us. The best we can do is try to take their best qualities and learn from their worst. My dad was very adamant about being completely transparent about his past. The good and the bad. He gave me the opportunity to hear his mistakes and ask questions and be curious, so (hopefully) I wouldn’t make the same ones.
I enjoy telling my father’s story. Not because on the surface it’s sad, but because it’s also the story of a man, despite all of his shortcomings, that left this world a better place for those that knew him. The funny and heartwarming stories that I heard from some of his best friends at his memorial service is enough to know that. It’s also the story of his resilient kid who learned to live with his mistakes (and is still trying) and has done a pretty decent job of following in his father’s best footsteps.
So if there’s one thing you get from reading this today, try to follow my old man’s (and I’s) mantra of “What goes around comes around’. Treat people how you’d like to be treated because usually that ends up being the biggest blessing. With all the people who have come in my life at the exact moment I needed them to, I’m living proof of that.
Nobody ever regrets caring too much at the end. And honestly, I’d much rather live AND die with that when I go to sleep tonight.
I love you, Dad. Eight years has been far too long without you around.
