Daddy don't do pop music...
Or so I thought until the other day when I got in his car and found, for once, he wasn't listening to some blowhard on Talksport witter on about a game where eleven grown men chase an inflated pigbladder around a field, instead a tune I recognised as being modern was bouncing out the speakers and he was tapping his fingers along to the tune. My first reaction was that I was hearing The Voices again but no, my old man was listening to pop music. Amy MacDonald to be more precise. Which kinda stunned me more as she's exactly the type that I expect my old man to call Teenyboppy Shite . I remarked that it wasn't like him to listen to music made after the death of Elvis in 1977 and I hadn't ever expected him to listen to pop music unless he was at a party and had no other choice. He said, and I quote... "It's not pop music. It's Amy MacDonald." "It fuckin' is pop. It's in the charts now." I replied, knowing this to be true as I had read ab...