Julianna (she’s seven) and I are watching the Rock and Roll of Fame concert from 2009 on the Palladia channel. Paul Simon is singing with Crosby, Stills and Nash. They’re doing “The Sound of Silence.” It totally rocks.

J: Daddy, is this a good song?

Me: Oh, Honey. One of the best songs ever written. It is beautiful.

They finish. My eyes are welling up.

Then, Art Garfunkel comes out. Simon and Garfunkel do “The Boxer”… “Just a come-on from the whores on Seventh Avenue.” Glorious song-writing. Perfection.

At this point, I’m crying like a two-year-old.

J: Daddy.. Don’t be sad. I will have Lady Gaga and Nikki Minaj when I grow up.

Me: Unfortunately, yes you will.

Then Art Garfunkel takes center stage. I plead: Please don’t do “Bridge”…

Garfunkel: “When you’re weary, feeling small. When tears are in your eyes. I will dry them all.”

Dude… I’m a puddle in my own living room. In front of my second-grader. “Shhh.” I tell her. “Please let me have this…”

She backs off.

Then: Daddy can I have some ice cream?

Fatherhood.