Written Anecdote: On Taking Dad to a Concert

January 4, 2012


My dad’s two favourite beings were born in 1995: his own daughter and The Foo Fighters.

My birthday presents for my dad usually consist of a hug and a card, hand-written on printer paper. But when I heard The Foo Fighters were going to be in town, I kept the printer paper for a later date. I snatched my dad and myself two pre-sale tickets for The Foo Fighters.

Most teenage kids cringe at the thought of taking their parents out in public, let alone a concert. But on October 27, I went against my typical teenage-esque. After my dad came home, he switched his attire from starched collared shirt and tie to jeans and a leather jacket. After 16 years of listening, we were finally going to experience what we’d been waiting for. We headed off to hear the music that was played as my lullabies as a month old baby.

When I listen to something all my life, I memorize every word. Every riff. The Foo Fighters are my favourite band, only because I was forced at a young age to accept that no matter what, they’re the best. My father put this upon me, falling in love with their music after the drummer of Nirvana released the debut album of the new band, Foo Fighters by Foo Fighters.

When someone dedicates his musical heart to one band for sixteen years, watching every documentary, and buying every album, he deserves to be taken to at least one concert. I gave up the fact that I might be embarrassed, or that I might be the only teenager with her parent. My dad got to see his favourite band live, and that’s all I wanted.

It was all about the little things that I didn’t think about before going. It was about blowing off my entire savings for this one night. It was about how the cool was kept until the tickets were being scanned. It was about standing in front of the T-shirts for ten minutes, then deciding on the perfect one. And then five minutes later, going back and getting another.

It was about laughing at my dad for putting in earplugs, and then later wishing I had my own pair, as words were muffled and music was dimmer. It was about screaming every lyric to every song, but mostly hearing my dad scream with me. It was about experiencing the best concert of either of our lives.

It was about holding my dad’s hand for the first time in four years as we left the arena.

That’s what music can do.

When I think about it now, most teenage kids will probably still look at this with disgust. But sometimes, you have to take a chance at things. Do it at least once. You may see a different side to your parent, like how I saw my dad.

Of course, he’s still the over controlling, touch-my-daughter-and-I’ll-kill-you dad, but there’s something about that concert that I will never forget. He was a teenager when he was there.

Now that’s cool.

by Jenna Andres, WM 11/12

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