When I was a teenage, I vowed not to be like my parents, and keep trying to open myself up to our younger generations’ trends. Music is easy enough, as is literature. Fashion isn’t bad, except for all the tattoos and piercings. I applaud their willingness to dismiss being concerned about body images even as I fret about them being overweight. I don’t get what they enjoy about some television viewing, movies and humor, but sometimes I manage to appreciate what they enjoy.

The classic Nirvana album, Nevermind, was released twenty-five years ago. Memory calls out details about borrowing it from a young friend, Tim, and listening to the CD at home. I was in my mid-thirties and enjoying the music from The Cranberries, Pearl Jam, STP, and Bush, along with Nirvana and others, but I had a number of friends who didn’t like it. They avoided hip-hop and rap, dismissed young country, and listened faithfully to AC/DC, Led Zep, Boston, ZZ Top, Ozzie, Aerosmith and the Grateful Dead. I laughed at them, chiding them for being like our parents, deriding music that wasn’t like the music of their younger days.

Now, twenty-five years later, the music, which was then the young people’s music, is older than the baristas and college students. Young music has moved on to Pit Bull, Adele, Twenty-One Pilots, DNCE, and a thousand other groups and artists. Listening to the music in the car and chatting to the baristas later, I think, it will be interesting for you in twenty-five years, when you’re forty-five to fifty years old, listening to young people’s music.

What will you remember as your own?