My boys have repeatedly accused me of allowing my music tastes to get stuck somewhere in the ’80’s.  Of course I am not about to admit my state of guilt to them, but they are indeed correct.  I like classic rock music that is now thirty or even forty years old.  I was helping one of our 20 something’s at church move to a new apartment a few weeks ago.   When her ringtone blared out some unfamiliar, but no doubt contemporary tune I suggested that perhaps a song from Boston might be better.  Her response stopped me in my tracks.  I was shocked. I was stunned. She said…”Who is Boston?” I grabbed the side of the U-Haul truck to steady my balance. I turned pale. My hands suddenly felt clammy.  I couldn’t repeat her question. I was speechless.

As it turns out, my youngest son has embarked on a historical experience that will avert such questions coming out of his mouth.  He recently purchased a turntable. Yes, I mean the kind that plays vinyl albums.  He and his friends have started collecting albums. They are listening to James Taylor and Pink Floyd.  They are regular customers for Half-Price books now.  They are broadening their musical horizons. But it gets even better.

They invited me. Yes, they invited the old man. They invited the first person that held them they day they were born before being handed off to their mother.  They invited me to go with them to see Fleetwood Mac in concert in Oklahoma City in March.  And to top it off, this is going to be a Dutch-treat outing.  I was a freshman in high school when their Rumors album was released in February of 1977.  It is considered to be one of the best albums of all time.

Concert tickets are not selling at 1977 rates, so I hesitated at first.  How can I justify spending that kind of money traveling to Oklahoma City for a concert?  I quickly changed my mind.  It occurred me that there are some things you just do.  When your children invite you to attend a concert with music from your era, you don’t hesitate. You go. It is as simple as that.  It is their way of building a generational bridge. 

I suspect our concert outing will be one of those memories that will be talked about for years to come. “Do you remember when we went with dad to see Fleetwood Mac?”

Finding common areas of interest with your children in their late teens or early 20’s can be a challenge. I have been so fortunate to play in a fantasy football league organized by my sons for several years now.  When they are in town, we have to go eat one meal at The Firehouse Restaurant.  It was our dad/son eating establishment when they were in high school.  We usually make the trek to Ft. Worth to shop for deals at Half-Price Books, Academy Sports, and Ross Dress for Less. We play vicious, cut-throat games of Monopoly when the weather is cold. And of course we watch football together.  If you are a parent of young adult children, I urge you to not hesitate when you are invited.  Build those bridges. And allow them the opportunity to reciprocate. It is good for them and it is good for you too!

  I realize time is precious and relationships are priceless.  I am so very sensitive to my friends who would give anything to still have their children on this earth to so such things with. I take nothing for granted and feel grateful for every opportunity God gives me to be with my children.