My aunt surprised me, a friend, and my parents with tickets to a Peter Gabriel concert in 1986; me and my BFF sat in the first mezzanine, and my parents and aunt sat in the cheap seats.

My BFF and I were thrilled, my mother was also intrigued (I'd been playing So a lot around the house and she liked it). My father, however, was not looking forward to it; he preferred more bluesy stuff. The only thing of Peter's that was on the radio at the time was "Don't Give Up" and he hated it.

When we met back at the car after the concert, the rest of us were talking excitedly about everything as Dad leaned against the car, arms folded, looking at the ground. We chattered on for a few minutes about how awesome it was. Then, when there was a lull in the talk, Dad finally looked up at us all and said only :

"That was fucking GREAT."

It was the first time my friend and I heard my father drop the F-bomb in our lives. It made such an impression that it's still a touchstone core memory for us both 40 years later. :-)