Drunk Music Lessons

Friday night, my wife and I met some friends at a local brewpub to have a couple of week-ending pops and listen to a neighbor play old-time rock and roll. (For what it's worth, Loudoun County, Virginia is a beer lover's paradise right now - I can walk to no fewer than six brewpubs making their own stuff, and there are another thirteen within easy driving distance.)

We had to leave to pick up our youngest at gymnastics, but she hadn't eaten anything, so we headed back into town to grab some killer street tacos and another beer. It was a beautiful night, and our town has a festive First Friday scene each month, so we finished our evening getting dessert and a manhattan at a restaurant bar. Daddy was feeling good.

When we arrived back at the house, the kidlet wanted to talk about music, so I obliged. She wanted me to hear Panic! At the Disco's cover of Bohemian Rhapsody, which is pretty good. But she needed to hear the original, and she definitely needed to hear Freddy Mercury's voice.

After that lesson, we spent a good hour wandering around YouTube so I could share some of the favorites of my youth. I focused on progressive/alternative stuff, the foundation of my high school catalog, but somehow I figured she needed to hear some early Springsteen, too. I'm working on the next lesson now, so I'll try to focus. Feeling pretty good about my Dadding, though, notwithstanding the fact that I was drunkenly hanging out with my kid.

In no particular order, here's the show:

Best Dad? This Dad. Worst Dad? Same Dad.

Not sure where to begin with this one. Let's just say this clip straddles the line between loving speed metal and blatantly disregarding your child's safety.



Conclusion: Metal > Baby (to this dad, at least)