When I was eight years old, my father would drag me kicking and screaming out of my bedroom on Saturday mornings. I wanted to stay home and listen to the Pollstar.com Radio Hour for the latest dates on The Doobie Brothers and B.B. King, but Dad insisted that I go to soccer practice. And while I chased that stupid ball up and down the park, I swore that someday things would be different.

It was when I became a teenager that my life really began to slide downhill. That was when Pollstar.com had their own cable channel and I wanted nothing more than to spend my Saturdays watching Vanna White turn over the dates for Shaggy, Stereolab and Ocean Colour Scene. Unfortunately my dad made me get a part-time job at Mickey Ds. He said it would teach me some responsibility. “Just you wait,” I muttered under my breath. “Someday….”

Finally, I graduated high school. “This is it!” I cried! “No more part-time jobs slappin’ burgers on the grill. No more clowns! No more Happy Meals. I’m a man and if I want to spend my days reading tour dates for The New Deal or The Beta Band, that’s my business. Like Alice Cooper once wrote, ‘I’m 18 and I can do what I want!'”

But my dad had other plans. He made me go to college. Pre-med. Yuck.

Now I run a chain of re-hab clinics for the rich and famous. I have a wife and a son of my own. And you know what? He’s going through the same thing I did when I was growing up. We’re arguing about soccer practice, part-time jobs and extra money to take girls out on a Saturday night. As a father, I try to understand, but… but… Oh, oh. Hold on a second, I have another “family crisis” to deal with.

“Listen up, Junior. Yes, I know the other kids have soccer practice today, but you’re going to stay in that room until you’ve memorized the complete routings for Evan Dando and Kenny Chesney. And after that, we’re going to cross-reference the cities for The Moody Blues with the dates for Britney Spears. I didn’t spend all that time in med school so you could chase a stupid ball up and down the park. Now, get crackin’!”

Sure he complains. He thinks he likes sports and he wants a job so he can have a few bucks to spend on Saturday night. But first he’s going to get what I never had. He’s going to get the dates for Ottmar Liebert & Luna Negra, and The Bouncing Souls. And if he’s really lucky, I just might let him take that job I always wanted when I was a kid. That weekend job at the Pollstar.com store. Yeah, things are finally different.

And he’s gonna thank me when he grows up. Just you watch. Someday…