If you don't have a dream, how are you going to make a dream come true? |
I’ve always felt lucky with regards to my parents’ taste in music. I grew up listening to (and appreciating) classic rock. One memory in particular always stands out: My Dad and I shared a chiropractor and went a few times per week while I was in high school. Once on the way home, we heard the song “The Hurricane” by Bob Dylan on a classic rock station. When we got home, my dad got out the vinyl record and we listened to it together. Dad was into Dylan & Floyd mostly, while my Mom was more of a Tom Petty & John Mellencamp fan. I remember hearing Black Sabbath’s, “Iron Man” blasted (because the beginning of it scared Traci, lol). When I was little, I thought Johnny Cash’s, “Boy Named Sue” was the funniest song ever. I lived on Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, The Doors, Jimi Hendrix, The Who, etc. The first album I owned myself was Bruce Springsteen’s, “Born in the USA.” When I went away to college, I borrowed Floyd’s, “Wish You Were Here,” so often, my parents bought me a copy of the CD for Christmas. So today when I was at my parents’ for a belated birthday dinner (and the best ice cream cake I’ve ever tasted!), when I said I was thinking of buying a Dylan CD but I wasn’t sure which one I should get, I truly appreciated my parents’ taste in music. My Dad gave me a stack of CDs to borrow. I feel lucky to grow up with such great music. Sure, at times I couldn’t stand it and I wanted something different, but I tend to go back to the classics quite often. Who we are is often shaped by those who raise us. So don’t blame me for being a rebel! Blame my parents! |