My dad and music

The music I grew up with
The music I grew up with

Yes, Mick needs a good spanking! 

(only H and I would appreciate that kind of humour)

So, my dad taught me a lot about music. Classic rock, of course. He would tell me stories whenever we were in the car… like, how he went to this concert at this time and heard this song play… what was going on in the world when this band sung about __________, what I could learn from them, what his generation went through in the ’60s-’80s. And whenever a song came on the radio, he would always get me to guess which band was playing. I loved those times with my dad.

I want to have the same sometimes wacky, sometimes very deep conversations with my kids… we talked about everything from prostitution, drugs, sex, porn, homelessness, communism, US presidency, black rights, love, peace, war, freedom of choice, abortion, racism, teenage rebellion, hippies, gangs, dating, rape, work, to God. And all of this happened thanks to music. I’m really blessed to have had such an open relationship with my dad – and to talk through so many things with him… not a lot of girls get the kind of chances I got growing up.

The Who:

My Generation – can you hear them stuttering? Yep, they’re mimicking what it’s like to be high…

Won’t get Fooled Again – 1st time anyone had heard the synthesizer played throughout an entire song – when people heard this song, they had no idea what that sound was! Music history!


My all time favourite song? Definitely Pink Floyd’s “Time” – lyrics are below. And yes, it’s a long song but it’s good!

Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day
You fritter and waste the hours in an off hand way
Kicking around on a piece of ground in your home town
Waiting for someone or something to show you the way

Tired of lying in the sunshine staying home to watch the rain
You are young and life is long and there is time to kill today
And then one day you find ten years have got behind you
No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun

And you run and you run to catch up with the sun, but its sinking
And racing around to come up behind you again
The sun is the same in the relative way, but youre older
Shorter of breath and one day closer to death

Every year is getting shorter, never seem to find the time
Plans that either come to naught or half a page of scribbled lines
Hanging on in quiet desperation is the english way
The time is gone, the song is over, thought Id something more to say

Home, home again
I like to be here when I can
And when I come home cold and tired
Its good to warm my bones beside the fire
Far away across the field
The tolling of the iron bell
Calls the faithful to their knees
To hear the softly spoken magic spells.

Thanks Dad!

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