Origin Story

As adolescents, even though we grew up in different towns in different states, we both hung out with crowds who prioritized good music and deep conversations.  Coming of age amongst the flash of the 80s, we rebelled against the pastel aesthetic and felt this nagging dark thump in our chests that said, “There has to be something more to life than this.” Back then it was sort of a social litmus test; if you had good taste in music and could carry on a meaningful conversation, you were given some degree of positive regard and the misfit circle opened up to make room for you. 

We were not fulfilled by what mainstream culture was trying to sell us.  So we spent our days hanging out in garages and basements listening to or performing music because it was the closest we managed to get to “truth” at that age.  We surrounded ourselves with what resonated with us creatively, and that is what felt the most “real.”  At night, we occupied diner booths, smoking affordable cigarettes, and drinking cheap coffee while excitedly debating the meaning of life (or at the very least passionate opinions related to music).

Our latch key upbringing led us to become the generation of hardworking smart asses.  Gen X turned out to be high functioning and fiercely independent, but we never fully outgrew our sense of rebellion and angst. Now as aging adults, we find ourselves in this new and strange world.  Alas, none of us “made it” in the music business (and none of our friends ever did move to LA to get signed).  But we miss those deep conversations. 

As a married couple, so many times throughout the week we say to each other, “We can’t be the only ones who think like this?”  But with how things are, segmented and compartmentalized, we don’t have the opportunity in our day to day to have those meaning making, soul searching conversations.  Sure, we get our daily dose of casual small talk, but we want to bring back the discourse of our adolescence. Our midlife crises demand it.

We’re definitely aging differently than our parents and grandparents, but we are aging nonetheless.  And at this moment we occupy a unique position in relation to our own mortality, while also grappling with our (ir)relevance pertaining to the larger cultural landscape.  There’s so much to process. We shouldn’t go through it alone.

Hence, Cranial Groove. Let’s tap back into that sense of curiosity, searching, reflecting, and belonging that we shared growing up as Gen X misfits. We quit cigarettes a while ago and instead of a diner booth, we’re in our dining room. But we still drink coffee and still crave a good, deep conversation.