From the Girl Raised on Rock 'n' Roll

There’s a Chevy commercial going around where people of all different backgrounds speak the lyrics of an old song “I’m a Little Bit Country, A Little Bit Rock ‘n’ Roll.” Of course, the commercial is marketing a truck, but when thinking about the lyrics a little more, I can safely say I am not a bit of country but a whole lot of rock ‘n’ roll.

 

But, I have to give credit where credit is due: my head-banging, loud singing dad.  Instead of listening to Kidz Bop or whatever pop music was on the radio, my dad and I would rock out to artists like The Rolling Stones, The Beatles, and The Doors, to name a few. From a young age I was listening to songs about drugs, sex, and partying (definitely not appropriate), but what did I know? I loved the sound; I was hooked on rock ‘n’ roll. So thanks, dad, for welcoming me into the world of classic rock and making me wish I was alive in the 1970s.

Image: Maddi Ference

 

In music class in elementary school, we were all assigned to bring in one song to share with the class. Other kids brought in Britney Spears or the Backstreet Boys, I brought in a Beatles song. My first concert was John Fogerty of Creedence Clearwater Revival. When we would drive around town listening to the radio and a song, unfamiliar to me, came on, my dad would say “I’ll give you a dollar if you can tell me who this is.” Nine times out of ten I would have no idea, but I made sure never to forget, in case he ever asked me again. Through small actions he probably didn’t even realize he was doing, my dad shaped me into the person I am today.

 

But, it’s more than just a common interest. It has connected us. While some fathers and daughters share interests in sports, food, or movies, we share music taste. I don’t have to look too far to find someone to go to a concert with, or fight over the radio on long car rides down the shore. There’s something special in singing Led Zeppelin together at the top of your lungs on the way to get dinner, and for that I am grateful.

 

So stay rocking, dad. Aside from giving me some of my best, and worst, genetic and personality features, you gave me something I’ll forever cherish and hopefully bond with my kids over in the future. If not, at least maybe my overabundance of classic rock knowledge will help with one or two Jeopardy questions in the future.