When I was a kid, I would often snicker and mock my parents for owning the Best Of Bread album. As a child, I thought this was the funniest thing in the world; the cover of the album alone was enough to send me into fits of laughter. I mean, who names their band Bread and expects to be taken seriously?
This, of course, was all taking place while I listened to my Vanilla Ice and Milli Vanilli cassettes on a constant loop. Sadly, both acts went on to win Grammys in the 90’s, proving that the best idea anyone had at the time was sampled beats and Germans pretending to sing. Hey, it’s still better than what’s popular now.
My Mother assured me that Bread was amazing, and it was the album that everyone made out to in the 70’s. I would just pinch my lips together, my face red with glee, and go back to shaving vertical lines into my sideburns. “Boy, I’m glad I wasn’t born in the 70’s,” I thought to myself. “Their music sucked. Besides, then I wouldn’t be able to look like this!“
Adolescence was a bit of a rough patch for me, as you’d assume.
Fast-forward to today. Yesterday, actually. For the first time in my life, I sat down and listened to the entire Best Of Bread album on my iPod. What I heard was nothing short of brilliant songwriting, absolutely beautiful and timeless songs, and a hard lesson in growing up.
Most of you know that Bread was a mega-platinum group that needs no argument in defense of their awesomeness. They practically invented the term ‘soft-rock’ and their hits will be played on the radio until the end of time, but it took me next to 16 years to finally figure this out. Ignorance and past-assumption will get you nowhere, and I warmly accepted this swift boot to the ear by Karma. I didn’t deserve to hear it until I was ready to appreciate it.
Yeah, it was just an album by a band with a silly name, but I think it actually changed the way I think about stuff. For one, it’s a reminder that I’m getting older and starting to give chances to things I never thought I’d care about. Also, it’s a reminder of the innocence and image-conscious mentality of the early 90’s.
While I can’t say that I still don’t care about how I appear in the eyes of others, I can safely say that I will defend Bread for the rest of my life. And when my kids start laughing at me for owning the album, I’ll just nod and smile, knowing that I did my job. Also, when I heard Aubrey for the first time, I shed a tear. At work, mind you.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to call my Mom and apologize.
Sound off in the comments section, and have a great weekend. I’ll update you on the Simpsons Trivia Contest on Monday.