A moment of surreality.

You know if you have children, they hate your music. It gets worse as they get older. You grow more nostalgic, they grow more annoyed.

So much so that when you point out to them that the song they’re listening to is actually a remake, and that the “original was much better,” they go into denial on the order of Tom Sizemore prior to his (__nth) stint in rehab.

“That’s not a remake” is the all-too familiar response. You think there’s no way their generation will be into the old stuff you listened to.

So as I’m out watering the plants in the forest by the lake where I live, I hear two bikes approaching in the distance. We have no sidewalks, so there’s a lot of pedestrian traffic in the road. The sound of bike tires being very easy to pick out after three years of living here.

And I kinda make out a kid singing something. I hear it a little more clearly as he gets closer. He’s riding with his friend who’s laughing at him, both gliding down the hill like kids do. And as he rolls into view past the front of the house, they’re both maybe 10 years old, he looks at me laughing with this ‘happy to be a kid’ grin as he’s singing. No harm, no foul. But the cadence of the song is confusing to me because the lyrics are different than what I expect them to be.

So as you hear ‘I’ve Seen All Good People’ by Yes sung to the tune of the Oscar Meyer classic “My bologna has a first name...” in a rap beat no less, you think maybe your music does get through after all. Just not like you expected.