Humble request - Release opener tonight for Phil Juliano
On 8/24/23, my Dad, Phil Juliano, passed away after a battle with pancreatic cancer. He was my hero, my guide, and just an all-around larger than life person. Here is an article talking about Phil as a coach, a teacher, a business executive, and most importantly, a father: https://shorelocalnews.com/ballys-atlantic-city-honors-juliano-legacy-with-phils-carousel-bar/
He has a bar named after him now, "Phil's Carousel Bar" at Bally's Atlantic City, his and my hometown.
Release is a song that's always meant a lot to me and it feels near the one year anniversary of his passing.
Phil was not one for Pearl Jam. He didn't hate the music, but he preferred his motown, R&B, Sinatra, Pavarotti, Bocelli, and some Rod Stewart in there too (my first concert when I was 5).
In the summer of 2022, I was hanging out at his house, enjoying a beautiful day by the pool. He was controlling the music and he wanted to throw in some Pearl Jam for his oldest son and namesake. Phil didn't know any song titles, so he just put on the first song he saw, "Release." Little did he know how hard it would hit me on that day. We knew he was sick and never going to get better. It was just a matter of time. So, those lyrics gutted me on that day and I had to excuse myself for a while so he did not see me break down.
Phil's last act in this world was to help me through my divorce. 20 years of a relationship and 13 years of marriage was eroding. He called it before I said anything to him. In the Spring of 2023, I had a particularly difficult day being riddled with anxiety and fear of moving into some uncharted territory. I called him for advice and comfort. His last words to me on the phone were, "Son, I'm devoting whatever time and energy I have left to making sure you're okay."
He didn't have to try very hard. That conversation lifted the anxiety like you would not believe. Of course, I still had a lot of work to do (therapy, meditation, exercise, etc.) but that intense overwhelming feeling was gone, just with his words of comfort and support.
The greatest gift I gave him on the way out was achieving my personal happiness. I moved on into another relationship with an incredible woman who will soon become my wife. She will be in attendance tonight. She has 2 boys, 10 and 8, who I adore and they seem to like me too. I never had kids with my ex, but now I am finally getting to experience what it is like to be a parent. It's not easy, but it's so rewarding. My Dad got to see the beginnings of this new role for me. He got to see me comb through the wreckage and come out the other side.
His funeral was gigantic. They all came 'round to see the man of the hour take his final bow.
So, I'm throwing it out there. If it does not happen, I'm totally cool with it. But, at least you guys got to read a little bit about an incredible man, my Dad, Phil Juliano.
He has a bar named after him now, "Phil's Carousel Bar" at Bally's Atlantic City, his and my hometown.
Release is a song that's always meant a lot to me and it feels near the one year anniversary of his passing.
Phil was not one for Pearl Jam. He didn't hate the music, but he preferred his motown, R&B, Sinatra, Pavarotti, Bocelli, and some Rod Stewart in there too (my first concert when I was 5).
In the summer of 2022, I was hanging out at his house, enjoying a beautiful day by the pool. He was controlling the music and he wanted to throw in some Pearl Jam for his oldest son and namesake. Phil didn't know any song titles, so he just put on the first song he saw, "Release." Little did he know how hard it would hit me on that day. We knew he was sick and never going to get better. It was just a matter of time. So, those lyrics gutted me on that day and I had to excuse myself for a while so he did not see me break down.
Phil's last act in this world was to help me through my divorce. 20 years of a relationship and 13 years of marriage was eroding. He called it before I said anything to him. In the Spring of 2023, I had a particularly difficult day being riddled with anxiety and fear of moving into some uncharted territory. I called him for advice and comfort. His last words to me on the phone were, "Son, I'm devoting whatever time and energy I have left to making sure you're okay."
He didn't have to try very hard. That conversation lifted the anxiety like you would not believe. Of course, I still had a lot of work to do (therapy, meditation, exercise, etc.) but that intense overwhelming feeling was gone, just with his words of comfort and support.
The greatest gift I gave him on the way out was achieving my personal happiness. I moved on into another relationship with an incredible woman who will soon become my wife. She will be in attendance tonight. She has 2 boys, 10 and 8, who I adore and they seem to like me too. I never had kids with my ex, but now I am finally getting to experience what it is like to be a parent. It's not easy, but it's so rewarding. My Dad got to see the beginnings of this new role for me. He got to see me comb through the wreckage and come out the other side.
His funeral was gigantic. They all came 'round to see the man of the hour take his final bow.
So, I'm throwing it out there. If it does not happen, I'm totally cool with it. But, at least you guys got to read a little bit about an incredible man, my Dad, Phil Juliano.
"Darkness comes in waves, tell me, why invite it to stay?"
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