
In my heyday, my musical tastes were cutting edge. Kasey Kasem’s Top 40 never blighted my refined ears, lest I instantly become unhip due to a few bars of “Jump! (for My Love)” or “Total Eclipse of the Heart.” Both of which I viewed back then with a thinly veiled contempt. Well, I must confess that the contempt is there even now.
No, I was all about New Wave, Alternative, Punk, and Post-punk. I wore black, although it was really more for show than anything else. I didn’t have that simmering rage a lot of my friends had. I just liked the music, and if I didn’t wear the black, well then they might mistake me for someone who would enjoy listening to the songs above.
As I have aged, I have kept up with musical trends. I know the music (and in most cases even like) of bands such as Weezer, Death Cab for Cutie, the Killers, and many others. My teenaged cousin’s eyes practically popped out of her head when I mentioned I liked a song from Vanessa Carlton. What? I could see the gears churning. A person over the age of thirty knew who Vanessa Carlton was? Perhaps she would have to dump poor Vanessa off her playlist since someone such as aged as myself knew who she was.
But really, who am I kidding? The Munchkin is only five. It takes a lot of work to keep up with all this new stuff, and to be truthful, I’m getting tired. Can I really do this for about seven more years? Can I possibly still be interested in new bands after I hit forty?
I have a feeling that by the time the Munchkin is in his teens, I’ll be content to be in my rocking chair, listening to The Ramones.
*You must be familiar with the songs of The Ramones, or else you will think I am referring to myself as a ho. Which I most assuredly am not.