For as long as I can remember, my son and I have been best friends.
Even though we have lived in separate states for 20 years, Geoff and I always find plenty of time to talk and text, if not on a daily basis, close to it. I know I can always call him at 2 a.m. if I'm having a computer issue, and he knows I will try and help him with whatever I can, as long as it does not require any sort of mechanical intelligence.
But since Geoff was a teenager -- he's now 38 -- we always had a major disagreement. We were at opposite ends of the spectrum when it came to music appreciation. I preferred mid-to-late 1960s, some easy listening thrown in for good measure and the incomparable Rod Stewart, who spans all generations.
Geoff, on the other hand, spent most of his formative years and beyond listening to the likes of Tool and Korn. (Yeah, I know. I have no idea either, except I remember those names on some of the scary-looking CDs he used to leave around the house.)
So it was with great surprise in the not-too-distant past when Geoff said, "You know, some of that music you always listened to ... is pretty good. I never used to be interested in any music before 1982 and Motley Crue, but I've changed."
For one of the few times in my life I was speechless.
I'm still not sure what prompted him to start listening to "my" music, but some of our recent conversations have caused me to pinch myself to see if I'm actually awake.
"You know, some of those old Rod Stewart songs are pretty good," he said, during another of our conversations on this topic.
Again, I was speechless. Was this the same Geoff who had spent decades making fun of my favorite singer?
We have now progressed on this topic to conversations about our favorite groups from that glorious period of the mid-to-late 1960s. Mine have always been the Grass Roots and the Box Tops, whose lead singers, Rob Grill and Alex Chilton, respectively, both died in recent years. (You know you are getting old when the lead singers of your favorite bands growing up start dying.)
Without prompting, and without me offering any of my selections first, Geoff began talking about the virtues of the Box Tops, specifically Chilton. He also mentioned the Grass Roots during the conversation.
Once more, I was speechless. If we had been talking in person, instead of on the phone or texting, he would have certainly seen me smile.
I'm not sure where this is all going to lead us in our never-ending father-son journey, but this particular part of the ride certainly has been enjoyable.
And I can't wait for the first time Geoff asks to borrow a Rod Stewart CD.