I was robbed. My children robbed me of one of the privileges of fatherhood.

When I was a teenager listening to my little blue transistor radio, my father frequently demanded that I turn “that junk off.” Dad didn’t like Jerry Lee Lewis and Elvis. I did.

Back when my children were still teenagers, we drove from our home in Creston to Des Moines one evening for dinner and shopping. The kids brought along their cassette tapes, which were still in vogue at the time. We listened to classical music all the way to Des Moines and to big band and country music all the way home.

Upon arriving back at home I told our son and daughter, “You guys have robbed me of the pleasure of telling you to turn that junk off. I like your music.”

For someone who can’t carry a tune and is rhythmically challenged, I love music and I love many genres of music. I’m happy my children do, too.

My now adult children appreciate many genres of music including their own personal preferences.

I was introduced to popular music through an old RCA console radio. In the days before we had a television set, I often sat in front of the family radio listening to the safe and father-approved music of the day. I recall hearing Patti Page sing “How Much is that Doggie in the Window” and the Mills Brothers singing “Glow Worm.”

In the mid-’50s WOI Radio in Ames aired an after-school program which featured recordings of children’s favorites like “Little Ducky Duddle” and “There Was an Old Lady Who Swallowed a Fly.”

“I know an old lady who swallowed a fly; I don’t know why she followed that fly. Perhaps she’ll die.” I can’t remember all the words, but I can still hum the tune.

My mother’s repertoire of lullabies included many of the great old hymns and gospel songs. I learned the words and tunes of these songs of faith while lying next to Mom’s rocking chair as she rocked my little brothers to sleep.

Adolescence brought about my interest in rock and roll which my father saw as crazy and, I assume, a threat to his eldest son’s morals. I enjoyed the beat and the lyrics often expressed how I was feeling. All those love songs, however, were of little value to a guy who was easily tongue-tied around girls.

Early on in high school my friend, Scott, introduced me to Hank Williams and country music. Soon I was listening to the Grand Ole Opry on Saturday nights. Country wasn’t cool yet, but then I wasn’t either. The best part was that Dad didn’t mind country music so I could listen to it without rebuke.

In my first full-time job, I was a sign-on country music DJ at a small-town radio station.

When concert promoter Smokey Smith offered me free tickets to Grand Ol’ Opry Shows at the KRNT Theater in Des Moines I was elated, but my friends turned down my offers to share the tickets. Most of my friends thought country music was from Hicksville; I went by myself.

Over a period of time I got to meet and visit with the likes of Little Jimmy Dickens, George Morgan (Lorrie Morgan’s father,) The Statler Brothers and others. Backstage one day I bumped into Mother Maybelle Carter ­­– literally — causing her to spill her hot tea. I was so embarrassed; she must have thought I was from Hicksville.

Today I seldom listen to modern music. I enjoy ’50s and early ’60s rock and country music as well as the big band music of the ’40s. I like light classical music, Dixieland jazz, Southern Gospel and some Black Gospel music. A Jewish friend introduced me to Klezmer music or Jewish jazz as my friend calls it, and I enjoy that, too. If no one else is around to harass me, I’ll even listen to a polka or marching band music.

I struggle with the praise music sung in worship services today but am learning to appreciate some of it. I still love the old hymns, though, and I love those old hymns best when I hear Elvis sing them.

German author Berthold Auerbach wrote, “Music washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life.” Heaven knows how much we need that today.