Most days I don’t get the time to pause and reflect. I spend long hours writing, and then my husband comes home and I switch to domestic goddess mode. Most of my writing is about paying the bills, but this blog centres around my passion for music. When I stop and reflect on that, on why I spend time on something that isn’t a big money-spinner, I think of my dad. He always taught me to do what makes me happy, and he taught me more about music than anyone else.
My earliest memories of sharing music with Dad occurred on long car trips. We were lucky enough to take two holidays every year; one to a favourite caravan park in Forster or Salamander Bay, and the other to an interstate destination. This was before the days of cut-price airlines. Dad would rouse us in the wee small hours of the morning, hoping that my sister and I would sleep soundly until we were a few hours away from home. After all, we had a lot of driving ahead of us!

Those car-bound hours would daunt most small children, but we survived thanks to frequent stops for service station snacks and a steady stream of music. We’d take turns, choosing a cassette tape a piece, for this was long before the days of compact discs. Dad didn’t know it at the time, but he was igniting a passion in me for Australian rock legends like Jimmy Barnes, James Reyne, and Richard Clapton. He’d tell me stories about the bands and the times he saw them play in tiny Newcastle pubs. In turn I drove him crazy with the tunes of Don Spencer, and later introduced him to the musos gracing the pages of the latest editions of Rolling Stone Magazine. He didn’t care for much of the new music, although I did turn him on to the Counting Crows and Rick Price. And after enough stories and enough cassettes and enough chocolate bars, we’d eventually reach our holiday destination.

A lot of time has passed since those family road trips, but Dad and I are still very close. These days we tend to share more music and musical stories after dinner parties and at concert venues than we do in the car. But in many ways, not too much has changed. I still occasionally thumb through the pages of the music mags, and I’m amused to see that my Dad’s old favourites still occasionally feature. Perhaps I should get him a Rolling Stone Magazine subscription for Father’s Day! If I can’t share my music with him on those long car trips to far flung corners of Australia, it seems the best way to introduce him to those latest chart toppers.

And if I subscribe now I could win a Volkswagen Golf Wagon 118TSI Comfortline car valued at more than $40, 000. I suppose the charitable thing to do would be to hand the auto over as part of the Father’s Day gift, but it is awfully cute. I’m not sure that I could bear to part with it, so I might have to indulge in a music magazine subscription of my own!

Image source: Stephen Katulka