Unexpected pregnancies are, perhaps, one of the worst reasons to get married to a person in the long term, but Connie and Ellis Nielsen intended, at least, to try. Both only 20, their joy at having a healthy baby boy was soon eclipsed by the practicalities of having a family. Young and working class, they fought often, always about money, and usually as quietly as possible, as not to disturb their usually "finally sleeping" son. The truth is that they were the same as many other struggling families, barely scraping by, living paycheck to paycheck, sometimes having only scraps on the table. Some couples could survive those hardships; those couples grow stronger and closer because of them. Others splinter and crumble, despite their best efforts. Calvin was six when his parents finally divorced, which is to say, he was just old enough to be upset and just young enough not to understand why.
It was not an easy transition. Connie and Calvin moved in with Connie's parents, and Ellis' time with his son was limited just by way of practicality. The estranged pair were just amicable enough that there was no battle over custody - Calvin would live with his mother most of the time - but the good will was limited. Their relationship largely splintered, Cal's weekends with his father were hot and cold between his parent. When Cal returned to his mother, she swung between interrogating him about every detail, or not asking him anything at all. It was perhaps, in these early years, that Cal learned to compartmentalize his life, and where the foundations of his diplomacy were really laid. He had his life with his father, and his life with his mother, and school in between. Largely, he acted accordingly.
In the end, it was a blessing. It took some time for both parents to mature, but Ellis and Connie were much better co-parents than they were husband and wife. And even though Calvin's early years would never be described as overly comfortable, they did slowly become more stable. By the time he was twelve, he was more a more typical, if unfocused, child. He liked football and cars and cartoons. He got in trouble for talking too much in school, hated his homework, excelled at hands on tasks and coasted through his written tests. Life settled. His dad remarried. His mom finished school and got a mostly stable, if stressful, job as a social worker.
None of that changed exactly, when he met the boys that would some day make up Auntie Matter, but it did seem to temper in favor toward a growing interest in music. This didn't bother his mother until his next Christmas request was for a drum kit. Cal saved his pocket money for weeks, though never seemed to be any closer to actually being able to afford one. It felt as if it was only by chance that he came across what could only loosely be described as a drum kit. It was technically usable, even if it was largely held together by tape and carefully balanced on top of books. His parents were probably relieved. It was cheap. This opened an entirely new world for Cal. While always supportive, no one in his family was particularly musical, and so he was often left on his own to discover anything that wasn't just on the radio. His approach to school had always been to excel in what he was good at and coast on the rest, but he took to studying music with a new brand of obsession. He could never afford lessons, but he could afford CDs, and once he'd sound-proofed his closet, he spent all of his free time trying to replicate everything he heard. With varying degrees of success, and plenty of "Not at 2 AM, Calvin Theodore Nielsen."
Cal didn't have expectations, exactly. He didn't know if the band was going to do anything. The fussy questions about the future were often ignored or brushed away with assurances that he was still doing okay in school. And while he dutifully took his A-levels, he was somewhat directionless in terms of a field of work. He grew up with a wonderful work ethic, but few concrete ambitions. And so, perhaps it was a relief when Auntie Matter actually got signed. And even more so when people who weren't their friends actually liked them, and bought their music, and went out of their way to come to their shows.
He took to touring immediately. He loved the adrenaline and meeting new people, and well, the money didn't hurt either. Growing up poor might have helped some people with their money management, but Cal wasn't one of them. Often, he looked the most put together, normally the relaxed one in a high stress situation, a calming voice, the anchor in the room, especially on stage. But only a couple years into their career, he was quietly swimming in debt, laughing off living at home when Auntie Matter weren't in the middle of another two year tour. Embarrassed and prickly on that subject, Cal buried the problem for years until he eventually broke down to his mother about it. In the last AM tour, Cal has finally learned to be a little more responsible, occasionally joking that he's becoming an actual adult. But it feels more tenuous, particularly with a year long break in front of him. With nothing planned with Auntie Matter, Cal finds himself more and more anxious over what he's going to do with his time. His home in Los Angeles, perfect weather notwithstanding, feels strange and uncomfortable, and he finds himself pining for the road, feet itching to do something.
