Listening to Dr. Laura dispense her brand of tough love and pious advice over the radio airwaves has become a guilty pleasure of my daughters and I. Dr.Laura has stated emphatically on many occasions that there is no such thing as 'repressed memory'. I beg to differ with her.
One of the most amusing phrases that I heard during my teen years was, "Shake it, don't break it, it took yo mama nine months to make it". It was oft repeated amongst my friends. Subconsciously, I absorbed that into my own vast wealth of knowledge(yeah) right alongside scintillating memorized quotes from luminary figures like Twain and Washington. Over the years I'd forgotten the original source of such wisdom. As my children enjoy replicating daredevil antics combined with the fact that we've occasionally lacked health insurance for long periods of time, I regularly quote that line, and then we all laugh. Imagine the horror while listening to my beloved XM radio as a song came up entitled, 'Pop That Cootchie', by none other than the infamous 2 Live Crew. A depraved group of men banned from many countries for their hedonistic onstage exploits. As the song played for a moment the knowing air of familiarity enveloped me and then I heard it, my favorite phrase, and it reassured me that I am indeed slated for future residence in the Telestial Kingdom.
Never would I knowingly sing the lyrics of a 2 Live Crew song to my impressionable young children that we're trying to instill moralistic values in. There's only one culprit for such an atrocity and repressed memory be thy name. If my children grow up to be filthy exhibitionist rappers, that's what I'm using for my defense.
8 comments:
My dad (yes, my dad) used to blast rap songs from the sound system in his vehicle, rapping loudly some questionable lyrics and my then-tiny daughters caught on all too quickly. He'd just laugh when I'd ask him to listen to different "music" when they were within earshot. Luckily, they both questioned his sanity and propriety and preferred stuff like "Wee Sing Silly Songs", so no lasting harm was done (to them- I still have "John Jacob Jingleheimer Smith" stuck in my head from the Wee Sing tape). Though the younger one did go through a brief period of listening to music "just like Grandpa likes" when she was a younger teen. Must have been those repressed memories!
If we're going to listen to rap music in this house then I prefer the hard hitting sounds of, The 2 Live JEWS CD, 'As Kosher As They Wanna Be'. It's a classic I tell you, especially their rousing rendition parody of 'Me So Horny' entitled, 'Oy, It's So Humid'. Good stuff and carries the Kosher seal of approval.
My Dad's a party guy and lives much different than our staid, conservative ways. I recall him taking me to a rated R movie at a very young age and then couldn't understand why my Mom was so pissed at him. There's more I want to compare but he reads the blog occasionally. Anyway, though lacking in proper discernment of entertainment for kids at least his grandchildren think he's mellow and cool. I bet your daughters feel the same way about their grandpa.
I play Big Balls from ACDC while my kids are in the car with me. It is reverse double entendre. My sons go, "Oooo, Dad." But I reply, "Listen to the words, it's about dances, like Cinderella's Ball, and so on." ACDC wouldn't sing about genitalia...
Yes, isn't classic rock great? While my friends giggled, I always had to set them straight that The Who's song, 'Squeezebox', was about an accordion. Thankfully you and I don't have filthy minds, right Patrick?
You can lie to yourself...
Well Patrick, this is shocking news. I guess I'll be the only pure lily white soul sailing alone on The Good Ship Salvation. Here, I was counting on you to hang out with onboard at the buffet and karaoke night.
We could have dueted on 'Islands In The Stream'.
I'm a geezer, so I don't know rap. My teenagers don't like it much either. But I used to play Hendrix when I was pregnant, and one day driving in the car with someone (I forget who), that person told me that the baby within could hear that stuff and would grow up to use drugs.
Well, too bad, my daughter doesn't use drugs. But she does listen to this band called The Residents. They wear eyeball masks and their music is so dreadful it would kill Simon. (No dirty words or sexy stuff though.)
Hey, I know an Anne Johnson, and she has this awesome blog on the Net. Are you one and the same?
I had to go back and look but now I remember that you were the recipient of my Dr.Laura rant. Congratulations to you! Oh, and it's par for the course for every generation to listen to music that disdains their parents. Your kid is right on track. Mine torture me with the annoying sounds of Green Day nonstop.
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