Battling Bon Jovi

Being the father of an adolescent daughter, there are certain things that you come to suspect. Puppy love, crushes, broken hearts, make up, periods, and the such. These are normal things that a father can reasonably expect to have to come to grips with over the course of maturing, both his daughter’s and his own. But we live in a funky and paradoxical age.

Case in point is modern rock ‘n’ roll stars. Sitting around with friends and family members my own age we can rattle off a myriad of names and albums…Yes, albums. I go back that far…Straight up old school. Of course, not as old school as those who schooled me. Which brings me to my observation. When I was introduced to truly good rock ‘n’ roll music, most of the artists were deceased. Few were living, and even fewer were living with out some sort of pharmaceutical assistance. But on no, not my generation. We’ve had to go and listen to the medical establishment.

Most all of us can admit, painfully and reluctantly, that we all envied those glamorous rock stars of our youth. Big hair, grinding guitars, and huge hair were the hallmarks of the trade. And we wanted them all. Name a hit band from the ‘80s and you are hard pressed not to find two out of the three attributes I listed just then. It is nothing different that our fathers and uncles felt towards the rock stars of their generation. Albeit, the fashions were worlds apart…thankfully.

However, as we grew older and hopefully up, things changed as they often do. Fashions and fads fade from the brilliance that we once knew and celebrated. Sometimes this is a good thing. Names move from prominence into the subterranean shadows where there is still enough light to keep the shroud of history from completely enveloping them. Yet, Fate conspires in oddly subtle and mischievous ways to make sure memories do not completely fade from what we perceive as our present consciousness. Children are the supplest tool in resurrecting these memories.

My wife and I have never been shy in sharing our music and the memories associated with it with our daughter. Having come of age in the ‘80s, many of you can share and swap some of the same memories. Recently, I experimented with technology and downloaded a ring tone for my cell phone. An inconsequential action that was wholly dependent upon others as I am truly “all thumbs” when it comes to technology, or at least I thought it was harmless.

I decided I wanted a piece of music that came to close to describing my unique personality. Invariably, I selected Bon Jovi’s “Wanted Dead or Alive.” Classic ‘80s piece of rock ‘n’ roll. Our daughter thought it was corny at first, but began to ask me more and more to lay the ring tone. From there, she began asking what music I had on CD. Of course, I readily shared my dusty discs with her as I began telling tall tales of my youth. It truly was a bonding experience.

Yet, there was a sinister shadow lurking in this proverbial garden…adolescence. Somewhere along the way, during one of the many mornings that our daughter wandered into our bedroom as my wife and I enjoyed our morning coffee, she saw him. Our daughter actually saw Bon Jovi. No, he was not standing outside of the bedroom window or anything like that. She watched one of his music videos. It was some song about memories. A slow, sad love song that made teenaged girls melt. I stand corrected. It still does because she did.

It was down hill from that point. Every time a song of Bon Jovi’s came across the airwaves be it frequency modulation or satellite transmission everything and everyone had to hush and allow her to listen. I remember these days from my own youth. But, as the father of a teenaged daughter, I was none too happy in seeing my thirteen year old melt over a man singing who was older than myself…at least by a few years.

Some may wonder whether the predicament has improved. Perhaps her aural fancies have turned to another…? Well, I am still anguishing over this whole prospect. Yes, her repertoire has expanded in her appreciation of ‘80s music. But, not for the better I am afraid. Her passion has not waned in any amount. Actually it has grown to include other ‘80s artists. Most of which are suitable for me…as a father. Now, things would be different if we were discussing myself as a fan. However, the latest focus is now on the band Twisted Sister. Oh, boy!...