Ween. The Go-Betweens. Dan Bern. The National.
This is just a sampling of the bands my father -- yes, the much blogged about Father of a Rockist -- has turned ME onto (actually, just this second he informed me he's went to see the great Chris Hillman -- formerly of the Byrds, The Flying Burrito Brothers, amongst others).
To the story at hand: a few years ago, Mama Rockist got into singer-songwriter Dan Bern and got the rest of the family into him as well. Pop Rockist took Mama to see Bern in Louisville shortly thereafter, and, opening up for them was none other than Rockist-certified Cincinnati, OH natives The National. Sort of an odd lineup, but whatever -- Mom and Pop loved it. They bought their disc on the spot. They had the band sign it.
Flash forward a few years. Pop is in Atlanta for work. He's having brunch at Rea's Bluebird (or something like that) with a former colleague and friend. He hears through the grapevine that the National were in town the night before. Then he looks across the restaurant and who does he see? One of the Dessner brothers from the National. Which one I'm not sure. But that's not the point. My dad then goes over and introduces himself, explains how he saw the group a while ago and really liked them, bought the CD, etc. The guy apparently was shell-shocked, wondering who this 55 year old guy was. He kept calling my dad "Sir" and speaking in a very grateful and deferential tone. I was justifiably impressed and proud, as all sons of Rockists should be, for a true Rockist can never grow old.