Adventures in Babysitting Memories

My memories of childhood are spotty and don't represent what happened very well. The activities I did all the time have little place in my mind, while things I did only a few time stand out with clarity.

For instance, I didn't do a lot of babysitting as a teen -- just twice, yet I remember each experience pretty clearly. I was thinking about one of the two today, from when I was 15.

My aunt and uncle were visiting, and they invited some friends of theirs from college who lived in our area to go out with them and my parents. So I was volunteered to babysit for this couple's children.

We lived in the country, while this family lived in one of the small cities about 20 miles away, in what I perceived to be a well-to-do suburbanish area. The house was a split level, and generally more elegant than I was used to. I recall that the man of this couple was an executive at Sears Roebuck, and had married late, so he was probably around 50, with a substantially younger wife and young kids.

I don't remember much about the kids or what we did while the adults were gone, but I clearly remember something that happened after the adults returned.

The kids were in bed, and I had been watching the Grammy Awards on television when the adults arrived. Harry Chapin was on, playing and singing his hit from the past year, "Cats in the Cradle." And the man of the house said, after listening to the song for a while, "Why does music these days always have to be about something? Why can't it just be fun to listen to?" I'm sure I haven't quoted him verbatim, but I remember the gist of his words, and his tone, which sounded angry.

I was taken aback. I think I tried to explain why it was a good song, but I'm not really sure.

Why has this moment stuck with me so clearly for so long? Maybe because an adult I didn't know was showing anger about something that seemed both trivial and important to me. I believe it struck me as an example of the "generation gap," too. He seemed square and out of touch with music.

In hindsight, it's easy to think this man was overly sensitive to the song's message because it resonated with his own family life. But I don't know that, and can never know it. I don't even remember his name.

It's just one of those little memories that periodically pokes its head up out of the flat plain of my everyday recollections.