"Turn off that Devil's music!!" I remember my grandma yelling at my dad and me every Sunday as we drove into her driveway listening to the Ramones or maybe New York Dolls. Growing up in a household of punk rock, "turn off that Devil's music," was often yelled at our Thanksgivings and Christmas', but this never stopped my father from educating me on what he knew best and loved most. From the softness of proto-punk to bands who just wrote songs about anarchy in their home countries, punk had a place for everyone. Though when most people heard the term "punk," they automatically assumed the worse, such as the Sex Pistols, who lived the infamous lives of sex, drugs, and diseases. None of the elders in my family ever gave my dad and my sister's taste a chance because of their predetermined opinions.
As a think of arguments I could have bravely challenged then, I remember jazz and how many cities banned the music and dance to be played due to sinful and unorthodox behavior and lifestyle it came with. This was the era that my grandparent thrived in and maybe they should have realized that this too, was just another era for the young and the restless.
Even though my grandparents never accepted what I liked best, I'm sure there will be something just shocking to me that the young adults are listening to when I get 70 or 80 that I can yell about.