I was once like you are now

The Pennsylvania night was cold on our faces, but an evening of Yeungling drawn from a keg was insulating us from any chill. While I would have preferred a female walking companion, on this night my college roommate, Dave, would have to do. Bucknell was a small enough school that sometimes you felt you had the campus to yourself at two in the morning. As we stumbled across the quad, we laughed at our foolishness and that laughter became breath you could see against the inky night sky. We put our arms around each other’s shoulders, and launched into one of our duets of Cat Stevens’ “Father and Son.” We’d take turns singing the “father” and “son” parts, which probably reflected alternating times in our actual lives when one had to be more parental to the other. The twenty-year old ballad wasn’t a particularly contemporary song choice, but in the time of Guns N’ Roses and just before grunge escaped Seattle, it was our drinking song:

If they were right I'd agree 
But it's them they know, not me  
Now there's a way 
And I know that I have to go away 
I know I have to go

In case you’ve never heard it, “Father and Son” is a lyrical exchange between a conservative father and a son who needs to break free and forge his own path. Cat Stevens (Yusuf Islam) sings both the “father” and “son” parts; the former in a lower, more “mature” tone. Originally conceived as a part musical project set against the Russian Revolution, the father was a farmer and the son wanted to take up arms and join the fight. It doesn’t matter if it’s 1917, 1989, or 2021 the idea that father and son see the world differently is universal. The seemingly simple set of lyrics accompanied by a guitar is as accessible as it is beautiful.

I met Dave on day one of college having both landed on floor 3A of Smith Hall. We seemed to be from different worlds–he was from Northern New Jersey; I was from Central New York. To an 18-year old, upper-middle class suburbs in neighboring states are foreign wolds, and freshman year a great deal of time was spent determining whose childhood ice cream was superior. Dave was a capable debater in the study lounge and ended many arguments with “I read that in a book,” which for you youngsters was the precursor to “I found it on the Internet.” Dave was intelligent, passionate, and fiercely loyal, which are good traits to find in a friend your first year of college.

Dave introduced to me to “Father and Son.” Prior to that, the only Cat Stevens’ song I was familiar with was his cover of “Morning Has Broken,” which my sister sang in church once. Listening to music and in varying degrees of sobriety, we talked about everything freshman year, including our fathers. Like many of my friends, Dave was taken aback by how deep my father’s voice when he met him parents weekend. After that, Dave developed his Mr. Matsumoto impression with a heavy Empire Strikes Back influence, “No, Steven, I am your father.” My father wasn’t a sith lord, but we had conflicting ideas about how to best rule the galaxy and certainly saw the world differently. I’m guessing, to some degree, Dave felt the same way about his father.

How can I try to explain?
When I do he turns away again
It's always been the same, same old story

While our drinking song was a conversation between two opposing points of view, we were obviously more “son” at that time in our lives. We were young and stupid, full of beliefs about the world with no experience to back them up. “Father and Son” captured something we both felt about growing up and finding our places in the world. It was a coming of age song at a time when we were ready to take the steering wheel from those who drove our lives thus far. At least that’s what I tried to bring to the drunken vocal outside Coleman Hall.

Find a girl, settle down
If you want you can marry

After college, Dave and I would each settle down, but there was also so much we’d have to go through. When my sister died, Dave was there for me and it kind of amazed me. In the midst of my grief, I wasn’t really concerned with funeral attendance. There were no RSVP cards like a wedding, “Oh good the Johnsons are coming and they’re both having fish.” But when I saw people from various segments of my life at the end of that service, it bolstered me in a surprising way. I probably didn’t sleep that night, but Dave and our friend Brian crashing on the floor of my mom’s house brought me a great degree of comfort.

About ten years later, Dave’s father passed away. Like Dave was there for me, I wanted to be there for him. While I’m neither a hugger nor a crier, I did both that day. When I saw my friend, I embraced him and could feel the pain exude from his body. During the service the Rabbi relayed a story that Dave’s father said he loved his mother “in every language he had ever known.” I sobbed uncontrollably.

I was once like you are now
And I know that it's not easy
To be calm when you've found
Something going on

Even back at Bucknell, Dave and I thought that the “father” wasn’t completely unreasonable and that his verses expressed empathy and love for his son. Now that I’m a father myself, I know that to be true. Neither of my sons are considering joining the Russian Revolution, but they’re now old enough to have their own opinions and more than capable of expressing them. They’re headstrong and full of naive ideas about how the world works. They love Mr. Beast and think becoming a YouTuber is a career path. It just may be.

You're still young, that's your fault
There's so much you have to know

“Father and Son” is now in Ryan’s musical consciousness, thanks to Guardians of Galaxy 2. At the end of the movie, Peter Quill (Star-Lord) scrolls through his Zune and shares an earbud with Baby Groot during the funeral of his father figure, Yandu. Zunes have not been manufactured in almost a decade, but “Father and Son” has found its way into Ryan’s Spotify rotation.

As it played in the car the other day, Ryan surprised me by saying it was one of his favorite songs, that he could really understand what the song was saying. I’m pretty sure that Ryan wasn’t suggesting he and I have a contentious relationship. The mere fact that we were having a conversation about it probably suggests otherwise. Ryan admitted that from the moment he could talk, he wasn’t ordered to listen, nor is he a very good listener. To him, “Father and Son” is about figuring how who he is and how he fits into the world. At any rate, I was amazed at Ryan’s music appreciation. I texted Dave to share that I’ve “never been prouder.”

Look at me, I am old, but I'm happy.

Among the things to be happy about is the fact that the boys and I can appreciate some of the same music. Back during the Wiggles “Fruit Salad” days, I wasn’t sure we’d get there. Earphones in, strolling around the kitchen, Ryan serenades me with a song from my past which is now part of his present. He can comfortably sing the son’s part in the higher octave, reflecting his youth and exuberance. As for me, my “voice” has deepened and mellowed with age and fatherhood. I still can’t match the depth of my father’s voice, but I’ve graduated from my late-night college singing days.