An Open Letter To My Father About His Dad Band’s Setlist
A son’s desperate plea
Hey Dad –
It’s me. Jimmy.
First, you are a great dad. Even though I am finally in high school, I still want to spend time with you but ever since you and “the crew” started your dad band, it seems like whatever time we have these days is more focused on you getting me to show you how to use Garage Band “to get that Blink-182 sound” and pestering me to make the band “go viral.”
Look, I fully support this new hobby of yours. Your band ManCave!!! (note how I remembered the three exclamation marks) is really improving. I suppose those four nights a week of late night “jams” down in the basement are really paying off.
But, Saturday afternoon, my friends and I came to watch ManCave!!! perform at your bass player Mr. Wilson’s (or as you introduce him during gigs, the Zack-attack’s) block party, and I was surprised and horrified at some of the setlist song selections.
Dad, you are all in your fifties now. I think Mr. Rabinowitz — sorry “the king of the keys” — may already be sixty. All of which is fine and awesome when you perform “Don’t You Forget About Me,” “Safety Dance,” and “Ice Ice Baby.” But your choice of encore songs come off as, well, creepy AF.
After the pre-encore cakewalk intermission on Saturday, you loudly introduced “Cherry Pie” as “a total bop” but are you even hearing the lyrics you, father of three and a VP of Regional Sales, are belting out?
“Swingin’ in there ‘cause
She wanted me to feed her
I mixed up the batter
And she licked the beater”
Gross.
Then you introduced “What’s Your Name, Little Girl?” as “a southern rock banger” whereas everybody else would have just gone with “skeevy.” Sure, the singer doesn’t specify the age of the girl, but from the title and lyrics we know she is both “little” and obviously too young to drink in a hotel bar. None of which discouraged you from strutting around the middle of the cul de sac singing:
“Well, the police said we can’t drink in the bar, what a shame
Won’t you come upstairs girl
And have a drink of champagne”
Seriously, Dad? And for the life of me, I don’t get how the title of the next song wasn’t a giant stop sign. And if “Rock the Cradle of Love” wasn’t enough of a cringe warning, maybe you repeatedly singing about when “when the rebel took a child bride” should have been a red flag, don’t you think?
Which brings me to your closing number. Maybe ManCave!!! was too caught up in its very energetic performance to notice (and there was certainly no shortage of rocker leg kicks, straight from the bottle swigs of Jack Daniels, microphone swings, and in sync head banging), but the two dozen or so block party attendees had long sense removed themselves and their children to the opposite end of the block and the s’mores pit after “Cherry Pie.” By the last tune it was pretty much only mortified me, my stunned (and hopefully still) friends, that weird guy from across the road that everyone in the neighborhood is shocked isn’t listed in the online sex offender registry (and we know every household has checked) and Mr. and Mrs. Wynn who everybody knows are swingers.
Dad — the song is called “Seventeen.” There is no ambiguity about what is happening, not to mention the ethics and legality of it all. Also, it’s by Winger. What made you take all that in and decide that this was the big finish/last impression you wanted to leave?
I’m just glad my sister had travel basketball last weekend because I’m not sure she would ever come out of her room again if she experienced the trauma of you belting:
“I’m only seventeen (seventeen)
But I’ll show you love like you’ve never seen
She’s only seventeen (seventeen)
Daddy says she’s too young, but she’s old enough for me”
Honestly? I’m surprised nobody called the police. Also, when the only person singing back the “seventeen” part is the guy from across the road, you should probably reconsider your song choice.
So, I am posting this because I love you and I want to be supportive of this new outlet you and the other band dads I have known my entire life have discovered. But, more than anything, I write this because you are really creeping everybody out.
A couple of weeks ago my class had a mandatory “consent workshop” and it raised some good points that might help make my case. I bet you could get a recorded copy of the Zoom presentation from the main office or maybe the PTA. In the meantime, maybe you should reconsider that whole Billy Joel cover band idea (Uptown Boys!) you were kicking around when you guys started playing together. I really think that would be awesome and for the best.
Your Son,
Jimmy Paige Morton
