To the Coolest Guy I Know

You wouldn't let me buy George Michael's Faith in 1987 (or wear Big Johnson shirts, thank god), but got me the best of Elvis Costello and the Attractions instead.

You took me to see Arlo Guthrie at the Birchmere but had to get a babysitter when you went to the old 9:30. And you can remember where you were when you found out Danny Gatton died.

In 1992, when I thought I had "discovered" Led Zeppelin, you told me to check out the Lovemongers' cover of Battle of Evermore on the Singles soundtrack. And thought I might like the other acts on the record too.

You suggested that I would dig this Brit named Nick Drake, years before the Volkswagen Passat cruised under the stars. And you tipped me off to the Hour of the Bewildebeast.

And after you named most of the songs Moby sampled on Play, you broke out the originals on old 45's.

You took the Governess to see Hem when no one else would go. And I'm sure you were the oldest guy at the Zero 7 show.

Maybe it's because you grew up so near Clear Lake, Iowa, but who knows?

Thank you, Dad, for being my Rock 'n' Roll hero.

And Happy Birthday.