I read somewhere that "you never knew how lonely you were" until you have a son -- which is wonderfully true. Yesterday, while my Baby Momma was out cruising for boys with her sister, I cranked up my guitar amp and put The Pooper on his belly in his crib -- Then I stood in his doorway and ripped through "Academy Fight Song," "Pop Song '89," "In the Meantime," "Seven Nation Army," "Begin the Begin," "Blitzkrieg Bop," and "See No Evil." Every minute or so, Poop's head would pop up like a groundhog, grinning and laughing at me until his arms gave out. The house shook, the dogs barked, Poops made "sppppllltt" noises, and I have never felt so unreasonably joyful without a drug that made me actually enjoy Paul Oakenfold or having run 20 miles.
I started wondering whether he would remember this kind of stuff when he was older, and whether I was damaging his hearing or he would rebel by listening to soft jazz (I have a dream of us being in a punk band together when he's old enough -- The Stinks).
So I was curious whether any of y'all had memories of your folks and music (mine is driving around in my dad's pickup listening to "Desperado" with him singing along -- he sings about as well as me, sort of a Yogi-Bear-with-his-nuts-caught-in-a-bear-trap kind of vibe)?