A few weeks ago, guitar in my hands, I called my dad on the phone. I was quite happy because I just rescued that old instrument from a dark and dusty cave (It was just a garage, I’m only trying to add a little mystery here) a few days before, changed the strings with brand new ones, opened YouTube and searched for “Psycho” by Muse (I want to learn it so bad!)
The first part is quite easy, even for a beginner, but I called my dad to tell him I learned it anyway, because I just wanted to share that with him, since we both are Muse fans.
Now, you must be wondering what it’s so special about this. Well. The right second after I told him, he started playing the whole exact same song with his electric guitar. Yes, really. He learned it. The whole thing. Before me. Yep.
Well, okay, that’s great! I mean, I introduced him to Muse music, and I really love the fact that we share this passion! But things are really getting weird right now.
Just a quick step back. One month ago, he took me to my first Muse concert ever in Milan. I didn’t have anyone to go with and, at first, my dad was not very enthusiast (Yes, the “I’m too old for this” thing). Then, the day before the actual concert/his birthday, he calls me; “You know, I was listening to Muse earlier, and I think it would not be that bad if we actually go to the concert tomorrow.”
I will skip the part where I hunt people down on Facebook to buy two tickets for the day after (I was so lucky to find them!), and I get to the part where I tell him I actually found someone who could sell them to us and he sound happier than me, and that’s not an easy thing.
Amazing concert, of course. I literally cried when they started playing the first song (That was Psycho, what a coincidence!) and my dad is so proud to say that he spent his 50th birthday at a concert.
Anyway, I saw my dad last Thursday, at my grandmother’s house, and when we got in the car and I put music on, he freaked in a good way out.
“I’ve been listening the last Muse album over and over again and it is amazing. It’s their best one! It’s perfect!”
Later on, when his phone rang, guess what song started? Yep, that one, exactly! Always the psycho lurking around.
Guess what we listened to during our 1 hour ride back home! Yep, the whole Drones album basically. And he sang (Or at least tried to) and asked me for meanings of phrases.
Then I fangirled a little, explaining to him some lyrics, references and stuff. (Come on! It was my turn too!)
Anyway, the one (and only) rule to survive a modern parent who fangirls more than you do is this: enjoy it! And be grateful to have such an amazing parent!
Brief disclamer: This is just a funny post! Everything really happened, but I love my dad so much, I’m just joking about him. I wouldn’t change our relationship and our mutual love for Muse for anything in the world!