Now hear this

Case,

This morning we hung out and listened to some music. Wilco, to be exact. We did the same thing yesterday, and it appears you dig the stylings of Jeff Tweedy and the boys.

As I bounced you on my lap while the music played and you stared out the window, I wondered what music will be like in a decade or so when it catches your ear. Will you be influenced by what I listen to, or will you initially think I'm an old fuddy duddy who doesn't understand good music? I suspect there will be elements of both. Maybe an  immensely talented and enigmatic band like Wilco will still be around and we can share this story over their latest release. Maybe you, too, will come to appreciate the criminallly underrated genius that is Phil Lynott and Thin Lizzy. Maybe we can enjoy a car ride or three jamming out (and probably speeding just a bit) to the Drive-by Truckers. Or, you and your mom could bond over listening to that One Republic song that also calms you down -- while I good-naturedly mock the two of you. :)

Regardless, music is a wonderful thing. Even if you have no musical talent (the Pallisters have none, so I can't help you there, but maybe some of your Grandpa Richards' guitar chops will rub off on you), there's so much to apppreciate. From the bombast of the aformentioned DBT's early guitar work (if you have never heard of Jason Isbell, look up "Decoration Day" before you read another word) to the sad beauty of Lynot's lyrics in a song like "Wild One" to the smile you inevitably crack when you hear the opening to Wilco's "Jesus, etc.," and on and on.

You may have the term "mood music." Well, all music is mood music. All music, even the worst of it, elicits some emotion -- even if that emotion is to scream, "Turn that shit off!" In all seriousness, though, one of the beauties of music is that it allows us to feel. There's music for feeling excited, there's music for feeling sad, there's music for feeling angry, there's music for feeling content. And it all has merit, because anything that causes us to feel is a good thing.

Music is associated with some of the greatest memories of my life (Thin Lizzy's "Johnny" was stuck in my head while I held your mom's hand for the hours leading up to your birth, and I can't help but sing to you when I've got you in my arms -- if a certain verse from Warren Zevon's "Roland the Headless Thompson Gunner" seems to be innate knowledge, there's a reason :)), and it's not a stretch to say music saved my life at a time when I was desperate for any type of connection. Music provided that for me. Music made life worth living again. I am forever grateful to Gram Parsons, Jay Farrar, Tweedy, Patterson Hood, Mike Coooley, Isbell, Lynot, Warren Haynes and a host of people I will never meet, but who made me feel excited, sad, angry and content at just the right times.

Those who know me would say that sports is my primary obsession. But they're wrong. It's music. And I hope that one day, sooner rather than later, we will find a special connection over our shared appreciation for it. Until then, do me a favor, Magoo: Try not to be overly influenced by that infernal "Hey, diddle, diddle" tune. I can't stand that ridiculous song!

Love,
Dad