My first car (a used vehicle) had a cassette player. I received the car as a late teenager from my parents. The previous owner left behind a tape of a Bob Dylan album titled “Bringing it all back home.” I was not aware of who Bob Dylan or had any interest in his type of music, but out of boredom I would listen to that cassette tape over and over again when I couldn’t find anything good on the radio. Before long I came to endear that album, and I still reminisce about driving around as I listened to it. Turns out that it’s a pretty famous album by Dylan and regarded as one of his best.
But I’m bothered that, even after liking that album, I still after all these years never delved more deeply into Dylan’s oeuvre. I have a reluctance about exploring new things because the payoff, compared to retreating to the comforts of the familiar, are uncertain. This is my excuse for my lack of familiarity with a lot of great music and a lot of great artists.