And the Cradle Will Rock
A couple of weeks ago my niece, also my Godchild, turned 20 years old. In honor of that occasion she invited her mother and I to go see this local band that she absolutely adores; Same Difference, at a local small-town bar. Pretty much your standard garage band, with a girl lead singer. Their song list consisted mainly of what is now classified as “Classic Rock.” That alone sickens me.
I say this, not because they were bad – they were actually really good, but because most of the songs they played were from every band I loved when I was my nieces’ age: Van Halen, Bryan Adams, Journey, Rush…the usual suspects.
In an attempt to embarrass her, I convinced my sister to join me at the foot of the stage to “rock out” in front of the entire younger, cool crowd who looked to be about the age of 16. I had the feeling I had become the weird-old-woman who doesn’t know when to sit down. That did not deter me from my mission, though; I held my hands high signaling the ole’ devil worshipper symbol and sang every word that I knew. They should be thankful the Aqua-Net was left at home, safe from the destruction of hair around the world or ginormous fire-breathing stunts.
My attempts were futile as my niece only sidled up beside me and joined in with my antics. We air drummed, we sang at the top of our lungs, well, she sang – I mutilated. Luckily, the music was too loud for anyone to hear my voice and I'm too deaf to hear myself.
However, it was fun to step back in time for a flash and have a bonding moment of sorts between the two generations. It’s nice to know the Spirit of Radio knows no age limits.
I say this, not because they were bad – they were actually really good, but because most of the songs they played were from every band I loved when I was my nieces’ age: Van Halen, Bryan Adams, Journey, Rush…the usual suspects.
In an attempt to embarrass her, I convinced my sister to join me at the foot of the stage to “rock out” in front of the entire younger, cool crowd who looked to be about the age of 16. I had the feeling I had become the weird-old-woman who doesn’t know when to sit down. That did not deter me from my mission, though; I held my hands high signaling the ole’ devil worshipper symbol and sang every word that I knew. They should be thankful the Aqua-Net was left at home, safe from the destruction of hair around the world or ginormous fire-breathing stunts.
My attempts were futile as my niece only sidled up beside me and joined in with my antics. We air drummed, we sang at the top of our lungs, well, she sang – I mutilated. Luckily, the music was too loud for anyone to hear my voice and I'm too deaf to hear myself.
However, it was fun to step back in time for a flash and have a bonding moment of sorts between the two generations. It’s nice to know the Spirit of Radio knows no age limits.
posted by On My Watch at 17:53
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