I’m just 30 years out of sync.
Number One Son has been asking me to walk to the local park with him for a few days, and this morning seemed like a good time. I brought my coffee, he brought an apple, and we got there in record time. This works well for a morning activity, since he gets to swing as long and as high as he likes, and I get to sit quietly and watch him and the birds while I have my coffee – it’s almost like having a deck, except 3 blocks away.
Anyway, after building up a good head of steam swinging, he decided he was done with that, and came over to my bench with his phone. “Here, you have to listen to this. Do you know Radioactive?”
“Yes,” said I, “I know the song Radioactive.”
“Cool.” And he played a parody of the song, set in the Portal videogame world, something about being a non-defective turret. Or being a defective turret. Or something. He kept watching my face for a reaction.
“Really, no. I’m not familiar with this.”
Big sigh. “Daaaaad, that’s why I *asked* you if you knew the song Radioactive!”
“Son, I do know the song Radioactive. It’s just a different song.” Since we’re both walking around with phones, I whipped out mine to play it for him – and realized as soon as I searched for it that he’s thinking about a band called Imagine Dragons, while Dinosaur Dad is stuck in 1985 looking for The Firm. If you’re a little more recently plugged in than I am, you probably already know it’s not a remake.
I played him mine: “Got to concentrate / Don’t be distractive / Turn me loose tonight / ‘Cause I’m radioactive.”
He played me his: “I’m waking up, I feel it in my bones / Enough to make my systems blow / Welcome to the new age, to the new age / Welcome to the new age, to the new age / Whoa, oh, oh, oh, oh, whoa, oh, oh, oh, I’m radioactive, radioactive.”
Welcome to the new age, indeed. Not my thing, maybe, but not bad. Number One Son conceded that 1985 might have rocked as well. We leave the final analysis to you!
And the New!