As the daughter continues to explore music from my era, a feeling of bonding and understanding comes over me, soon to dissipate with the thought that I am undone.
Previously I could take lyrics and thoughts from the songs of my youth and pretend I just thought of such cool fusions of words. No more.
Most recently, the daughter began listening to Little Creatures, realizing I have been trying to hoot like David Byrne on "Stay Up Late" her entire life.
I should be happy she actually made the connection from my overused schtick to an excellent piece of music.
My musical exploration slowed down considerably after my college years, so I figure I have six months to go before I lose all relevance for the daughter.
I'm happy she's following the righteous path of good tunes, even if I can no longer point the way.
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