I’m pretty lucky to have found myself with a “cool dad.” I’ve never seen khakis and white sneakers, and there has been extremely limited incidents of dancing. My dad is a pretty laid-back guy, and he knows his shit. And shockingly, this extends to music as well.
His coolness is probably a holdover from his youth, where he was one of those guys. You know the type: no cares, magically has things work out for him, and somehow is still awesome despite having a van with shag carpeting. However, my dad’s misspent youth wasn’t for naught: After all, it produced me, and provided me with a childhood filled with pretty exceptional music.
Like all dads, he’s not infallible, and sometimes his love of Neil Young gets a little too intense for any sane person to bear. But for the most part, I’ll take his interpretation of “dad music” any day.
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