It’s never easy telling your friends and family that there’s something horribly wrong with you. I’ve had to do it several times, so you can trust me on this one. However, telling your parents is a lot worse than telling your friends. I got so nervous telling my Dad that I liked Soft Rock that I panicked and told him I was gay. It seemed a lot easier than telling him I liked John Mayer.

My father eventually figured out that I wasn’t actually gay, I just liked lame music. This came as a mild relief, but it was followed with the immediate shame of having a son with poor taste. It was a lot more of a relief for me because I didn’t have to lisp when I talked to him anymore, and I was able to completely remove the word fabulous from my vocabulary. However, it still doesn’t change the fact that I’m a big Neutral Milk Hotel fan and I own a surprising number of Yo La Tango records. That shame will stay with me forever.