This essay was originally published by The Washington Post.
If I could offer one piece of unsolicited advice to new parents, it would be to think through your bedtime song selections with an eye to when that partially formed newborn cooing in your arms weighs 100 pounds and can beat you at chess.
This essay was originally published by The New York Times.
At a country music concert, my 11-year-old son taught me a lesson about refraining from snap judgments.
Not every foregone opportunity can be attributed to the exigencies of being a parent.
Seeing the Chilean cover band was like taking a university course on Pink Floyd. I was stunned how thin my knowledge was of the foundational rock band.
For the Uruguayans, the Stones’ first-ever concert in Uruguay was about more than the music.
In the car the other day, rock music blaring at inappropriately loud volumes as it always is, my nine-year-old son somehow made himself heard over the frenzied outro of “Baba O’Riley.” “Papa, what’s your favorite band?” he shouted. It was a Rorschach moment.
Wondering what it will feel like to see The Replacements again after almost 30 years. Will I be back in high school, before my father died, before Gomez died, before the weight of adulthood bore down so ferociously?
I will admit it: I gave up on U2 a long time ago. They are like an old friend that I’ve lost touch with through the years. But a recent concert reminded me of why U2 is still one of my favorite bands.
On the way to work the other day, I experienced a powerful musical juxtaposition involving Anthony D’Amato’s “Holy War.”
At the suggestion of Midlife Mixtape’s Nancy Davis Kho, I put together a short list of the Songs That Made Me to be added to the bloggers collection that Nancy has compiled.
