Washing the dust of the soul from everyday life
I was robbed. My children robbed me of one of the privileges of fatherhood. When I was a teenager listening to my little blue transistor radio, my father frequently demanded that I turn “that junk off.” Dad didn’t like Jerry Lee Lewis and Elvis. I did. Back when my children were still teenagers, we drove from our home in Creston to Des Moines one evening for dinner and shopping. The kids brought along their cassette tapes, which were still in vogue at the time. We listened to classical music all the way to Des Moines and to big band and country music all the way home. Upon ...