When I was five years old, my parents walked in on me listening to “Achy Breaky Heart.” By the time I started singing along, they simply had enough. A stern talk ensued, and I quickly learned that I was the son of punk rock parents.
They still ridicule me to this day about that incident, but luckily for them, I ended up loving rock music once I finally found my musical identity. Blink-182 became one of my favorites, and my family bonded over headbanging to “Dammit” on rides home from school.
