Rock On, My Son

Rock On, My Son

Like many of us I grew up with parents who didn't appreciate my music. If it wasn't Simon and Garfunkel or Johnny Cash it was "too loud," or "crude." On one memorable occasion it got me The Look and confiscation of my Sammy Hagar album. And though no one will argue that "Rock You Like a Hurricane" is about a cold front, I wasn't listening to the Scorpions, Def Leopard or Loverboy and thinking, "Is this good or bad?" Like you, I was rocking out.

Fast forward just a few years to when Marty and I had five teens of our own. Times had definitely changed and one of those changes is the music kids listen to these days! I borrowed one of my sons' Ipod. I was out walking and scrolling through his tunes. This was in 2012 and I enjoyed "I Gotta Feeling", and "Pretty Fly for a White Guy." I was feeling connected to my son. We had good taste in music. Then I came to the gem "Jizz in My Pants." Now, even a middle-aged mama has a clue that this is SO NOT APPROPRIATE!

I won't bore you with the details of the conversation said son and I had. But needless to say 50% of his playlist was gone the next time I checked.

Then there was Jake. Jake asked for a guitar when he was 12. Then he taught himself to play. It turns out that Jake was a boy after his parents' hearts -- he  loved 80's rock and he learned to play it. At first we were all cool with this. We'd say, "Jake, play 'Sweet Child 'O Mine'", he'd start plucking, and we'd start doing the toe tapping, head moving thing you do when you aren't part of the band. But as time went on, everything changed.

Maybe Marty and I don't look as great as we feel when we play the air guitar, but in one of those cruel twists of fate, Jake didn't want to jam with us anymore. So when I'd hear the strains of his guitar wafting up through the vents of the dining room, I'd creep silently down the stairs and press my ear up against his closed door to listen. Peek through the hole his brother punched in the door and see part of his hand as it flew across the frets.

Poor Jake. All he ever wanted was someone to tell him to turn it down and shut it off. Instead, mom was bustin' a move and dad was requesting Van Halen.
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