2004-04-02 - 10:32 a.m.
This morning the Today show did a cutting-edge piece on our generation: We like classic rock! We dig Led Zeppelin, the Doors, and Queen. Who knew? We like Jet because the band reminds us of classic rock (let�s not mention how utterly awful they are in concert). There�s nothing like stating the obvious. It was like watching a breaking news piece detailing Bush�s hatchet job on our country�s economy.
I�d rather see a segment on what happens when you find our your parents are cool. Some people are already aware. My boyfriend started borrowing his Dad�s Led Zep, War, and Hendrix albums in his early teens. We went to a Petty/Dylan show with him last summer and got so trashed he still makes jokes about it. He always refers to that crazy night with a twinkle in his eye.
But my Dad knew who 50 Cent was before I did. He�d call me up at work, playing �Wangsta� without identifying himself first. Musically, we seemed to be at opposite ends of the spectrum. When I was in college, listening to more rap than P. Diddy's umbrella-wielding manservant, he scolded me for thinking that rap equaled black. When got back into rock and roll, he was singing the latest Westside Connection song. But now, we�ve met in the middle.
I�ll never forget the look on my Dad�s face that day he thought he�d school me, so he slid in a mixed CD.
The strings began and I immediately knew the song. My Dad�s eyes were on the road, but he looked at me from the corner of his eye to gauge my reaction.
�Ground control to Major Tom,� I sang alongside Bowie. We both burst out laughing.
�When we were teenagers, my friend Rick and I used to smoke joints and listen to this over and over. What the hell do you know about this song?�
I wiggled my eyebrows at him. �What do you know about it? I thought you were strung out on G-Unit.�
The disc included music from Pearl Jam, Traffic, INXS, more Bowie, and Led Zeppelin. (It made sense now when he�d called me up one day, asking, �What song starts off, �There�s a lady who�s sure all that glitters is gold.��) The fact that he appreciated some of the music I held dear made me feel closer to him. I wanted to tell him about the first time I heard Van Halen�s �Jump,� how it stirred something up in me that I didn�t quite understand. I wanted to share with him that 10-year-old girl�s love for Aerosmith�s �Angel� and how those opening chords could bring me to tears. (I knew, I fucking KNEW Stephen Tyler was singing directly to me.)
But I didn�t want to hurl my obsession with rock and roll at him like a giant bowling ball. We were so in the moment, I didn�t want to ruin it.
�Hey, can you turn that up?� I asked. I leaned back in my seat and let the music wash over me.
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