“Carry on, my wayward son. There’ll be peace when you are done. Lay your weary head to rest. Don’t you cry no more.”

Tap, tap. Tap, tap. Hit!

Hearing those first four lines and five following drum beats of Kansas’ 1978 hit coming from my daughter’s phone impressed me. I asked her where she heard it.

“Supernatural,” she replied, referring to the Netflix series.

Liking the song, she added it to her Spotify playlist.

She previously added “Up All Night” and “18 and Life” to her list, songs sung in the late 1980s-early 1990s by hair metal bands Slaughter and Skid Row, respectively (She heard them when watching the 2017 movie¬† “American Satan” starring Black Veil Bride’s front man Andy Black). There are more “oldies” that she has on her list, but too many to mention here.

Call me crazy, but I rejoice when my kids embrace the music, movies and TV shows from “my” era, my time of growing up. That means they hail from all-things 1980s and a little bit of 1970s. It’s literally music to my ears. Pieces of my childhood and upbringing continue with them.

I wonder if my parents felt that way when I loved hearing “Saturday Night Live at the Oldies” on WKRZ-FM on the weekends and other albums they played. My mom’s sister, just 12 years older than me, had quite the album collection (Columbia House, anyone?!). I wonder how she felt when I asked her during my college years to borrow her “Steve Miller Band’s Greatest Hits” and Meat Loaf “Bat Out of Hell” albums. Shoot, I still listen to those songs today.

While it’s a little overwhelming to hear songs of the 1980s — and even the 1990s — being called “classic rock” and “oldies,” time does march on. At least those tunes move with us, and our children, so long as we let them listen.