Ft. Lauderdale, Fl USA
It's true I'm not a teenage lad. I'm into middle age.
It's been a while since foolishness has written on my page.
My youthful days have given way to rationality
And I've become quite "proper" since I've reached maturity.
My daughter, on the other hand, is quite a different case.
Just barely into teenage years she runs a frantic pace.
She buys her clothes from Rags R' Us; her hairdo's make me laugh,
The music that she listens to sounds like a birthing calf.
She likes a group called Backroad Boys. That's what they're called, I think.
Another one that makes her go berzerk is "In the Sink",
Not like the great groups of my day that one could understand
When four young kids made me smile with "I Want to Hold Your Hand".
Well, no, I hadn't heard these groups. I'm always on the go.
I keep the easy listening music on the radio
Or maybe jazz or classical or sometimes just the blues,
But pop rock of today is something I would never choose.
Well, all that changed last week, however. I had made a pact,
A birthday gift to go with her to see her favorite act;
A concert that I had no doubt would be just so much noise
By some group (I had been corrected) called The BackStreet Boys.
The concert hall was jammed....unruly bedlam, I would call it.
I kept my eyes on everyone - my hand stayed on my wallet.
A freak show like I'd never seen was there before my eyes -
Asylums let the inmates out to come and see these guys!!
Hair colors on display, I'm sure, would make a rainbow blush
With articles of clothing that had never felt soap's touch,
More tattoos than the U.S. Navy papered teenage skin
And I began to wonder what dimension I was in!
So then the music started.....Hey, those boys were pretty good
With voices rich in harmony and words I understood!
They didn't light a fire in me like those groups from my past
But that was many years ago...those feelings never last.
I looked down at my daughter, saw her pretty face aglow.
Her eyes were shining brightly though the lights were turned down low.
I looked out at the screaming crowd, an adolescent sea,
And realized the person I was looking at was -- me!
I was that boy with messy hair - my fists clenched in the air
While Rolling Stones were singing..I could see Mick Jagger there!
I saw myself in holey, wrinkled Alice Cooper shirts
And bluejeans that were so darned tight I swear my waist still hurts!
I saw myself with candle waving, swaying to and fro
To Neil Diamond's "Brother Love's Traveling Salvation Show"
I felt the heat upon my cheeks that made them feel flush
And relived music that had once provided such a rush.
For one brief moment, standing there, I was that kid again
Reliving wild and crazy times that I had known back then
With David Bowie on the stage - perhaps the Dave Clark Five,
Providing sounds that made a young kid glad to be alive.
I remember way back then I found it hard to understand
How Mom and Dad knew nothing of the day's top favorite bands.
They didn't know the Troggs, the Animals, or Sam the Sham
Or never heard the hit "I'm Henry the Eighth, I am, I am!!"
So there I stood, I must admit, now feeling rather dumb.
It dawned on me my Mom and Dad were what I had become.
I didn't know the songs today or how young people think.
I even thought those N'Sync guys were really "In the Sink"!
The concert ended, we went home, her face was shining bright.
She didn't speak but held on to the magic of the night.
Then, as I walked her to her room, she turned and hugged me tight
And said, "You're really wonderful. I love you, Dad. Goodnight."
The Four Tops, the Five Satins, the Drifters and the Doors,
Janice Joplin, Jimmy Hendrix, Joan Baez and more,
Magically came from my past and stood there in full view
To watch me kiss her on the cheek and say, "I love you, too."