"Listen To This, Dad"

My daughter frequently offers me music to listen to and movies to watch. She is a great kid, and remarkably insightful and intelligent young woman, and when it comes to getting me to listen to or watch something she likes, she is RELENTLESS.

Even more annoying, she thinks she has me pegged: "Here, Dad...listen to Jimmy Eat World! Put the CD in your car, but don't bother listening to tracks 1, 2, 3, 7, 8, 9, 10 or 11, because those are, like, really rocky, but not Old School rocky like the stuff you like..."

In her defense, she often exposes me to things I would otherwise dismiss without much thought, and my musical tastes continue to grow because of it. Take for example, Kaki King. My daughter took the trouble to record and cue up the video, "Playing With Pink Noise"...then she ambushed me with it.

Heidi: "Check this out, Dad!"

Me: "Holy CRAP! That girl is GOOD! Who is she?"

Heidi: "Kaki King, Dad. I knew you'd like her. She's sort of like that Preston-y guy you like to listen to, isn't she?"

Me: "Preston-y guy?"

"That Preston-y guy" is Preston Reed, another masterful accoustic guitarist who uses the entire instrument and not just the strings. I've been listening to his music for almost 20 years.

So, I head for the computer and iTunes...lo and behold, Kaki King has two CDs out. I bought both.

Since then, my daughter thinks it's her responsibility to bring my musical tastes into the 21st Century.

I don't mind, really. I used to do the same thing to my mom. I remember bringing home a cassette of Elton John's latest album (yes, I am dating myself there...this would have been about 1982), and ambushing my mom with it.

Me: "Check this out, Mom!"

Mom (unimpressed): "Oh. That's very baroque."

My mom has her PhD in Music Education, and while she is one of the smartest, sweetest, funniest women I have ever met, there was a time in her life when she lost sight of all but the most technical aspects of music. (Remember the scene in "Mr. Holland's Opus" where he shows the class that a popular song was originally written by Johann Sebastian Bach? I GOT THAT AT HOME ALL THE TIME.)

Now, when I was about 10, and still playing the violin, I used to watch Barbara Mandrell's old TV show, and one night, I saw her sister Louise come out and play "Orange Blossom Special". It was the greatest thing I ever heard...and I was ON FIRE to play that song for my recital the following year. My teacher was all for it, but my mom wouldn't hear of it. You'd think I'd asked to be allowed to go around killing chickens by bashing them over the head with my violin. "No Bluegrass. Not in MY house," she said.

That touched off a battle between my mom and me that went on for more than a year, and ended with me quitting the violin. Six months after that, I picked up the guitar, and because I was in charge of my music then, I learned a little Bluegrass, a little Blues, and a lot about how music is richer and fuller when you make it your own.

When my parents retired, they joined a Bluegrass fiddle club and eventually formed a Bluegrass band. My mom plays the fiddle in the band, and was Wyoming State Senior Division Bluegrass Fiddle Champion for something like four years. Even better, she's back to having fun with music.

I'm sure this will come across as more than a little passive-aggressive, but fuck it. I tell this story because it's sort of funny, more than sort of ironic, and because by living it, I learned that you can't impose limits on someone's creativity without their permission.

So, when my daughter says, "Listen to this," I know she's really trying to connect with me, and to get me to validate what she likes. She wants me to reassure her that it's okay for her creativity to be answered in ways that differ from mine. I try to remember that, because as I said, it helps me to grow, too.