Tuesday, March 25, 2014

That's what you get when Wu Tang raised you . . .

Quick . . . name that song!  Ok, if you're lame like my husband, then here you go . . .
I would imagine some days that's how Getzy feels . . . that Wu Tang is raising his children.  Especially when he walks in the door after a long day at the office to what he not so affectionately calls "a teen dance party."  That's when the music is blaring and we're all shaking our butts to some thumpy bass.  And it's loud . . . they are my kids after all.  But I get him on a technicality every time . . . no teens live here.  Sucka.

To say that our tastes in music differ would be an understatement.  Getzy is lucky he's a beefy dude secure in his manhood because I'm about to out him as a "Fanilow" . . . cough, has seen Barry Manilow in concert four times, cough.  He loves the classic rock, the 80's hair bands and the slow jams (think Taylor Dane and Mariah Carey).  Kill me now.  The only music we can really agree on is popular '80's tunes because that stuff rocks!

I always buy the clean version of music on iTunes.  Ok, at least 95% of the time . . . I'm hoping that I have enough music on my account that the kids don't find the other 5% because, well, this . . .
Kyle is like Rainman when it comes to song lyrics . . . he can't remember to brush his teeth, but he can sing any song word, for obnoxious, word.  It drives his siblings nuts because he belts it out like he's recording live.  I find it hysterical and love it when it's just us in the car . . . he doesn't judge the way I sing, and we can both own that business. 
 
Getzy is always trying to turn down the music and frequently reminds me that my bass is too much.  And then I remind him that he's just too old.  I always have a favorite part in every song and have to crank it up for maximum enjoyment . . . my kids at least respect the beast when she's in action.
What I've come to realize is that even though a song doesn't have an "E" for explicit lyrics rating on iTunes, lots of times the content is just not appropriate.  For example . . . Scream by Usher, Whistle by Flo Rida, S & M by Rihanna or Talk Dirty by Jason Derulo . . . these songs are played on the radio people.  Is anyone listening besides me?  That shiz is so not appropriate.  I actually change the channel when the kids are in the car . . . but I turn it UP when I'm alone!  Heeeyyy!
 
I get all disgusted with the content of music today but honestly, when I listen to stuff I rocked it out to as a teen, it was pretty bad then.  How about Let's Talk About Sex by Salt-N-Pepa, I Like Big Butts by Sir Mix-A-Lot or Erotica by Madonna.
 
I'll never forget one time when the whole family was driving through downtown Atlanta at the beginning of a road trip . . . I had downloaded a bunch of new songs, and the car, minus Getzy, was rocking it out to this song . . .      
Ahhh, that bassy beat . . . turn it up and dance in your seat.  Love it, and I swear it did not have an "E" next to it when I downloaded it.  So the rap part starts in the middle and then bam . . . Pitbull drops an f-bomb loud and clear. 

All three kids and Getzy hear this . . . shear panic sets in but luckily I'm quick on my feet.  I turn to Getzy and point my finger at him like I'm giving a state of the union address and practically yell "You're welcome."  I clearly caught him right before he lays into me for "the kind of crap I listen to" preacher from Footloose speech, and he's all like "Say wha?" 

I'm all like "Yeah, that's right.  You're welcome.  I can assure you that our children won't listen to music more naughty than their mother so you can just say thank you because I clearly have my finger on the pulse of music for this generation."  And then I sit there all smug like . . . pretending I'm not feeling terrible for what just happened!  Needless to say, I now screen all my new songs before I play them for the littles. 

Seriously though, music makes life better.  Hearing songs from different times in my life brings back great memories. When I'm feeling sad, I lose myself in music.  And when I'm happy and just need to dance, music makes me feel like I can do anything. 
I'd like to think that when people think of me, they think of music.  I usually bring it with me when I come . . . like literally . . . have speaker, will travel.  And I take it with me when I go . . . because I'm not leaving my cool speaker behind.  I think being a DJ would be such a fun job . . . but who's got time for that?  My friends will just have to suffer with me forcing all my jams on them.
 
Amanda once said that if she wanted to make me sad, she would take away my music . . . she gets me.  And she knows better than to mess with my tunes.  
 
And here's a funny story on a different music note (<---- see what I did there . . . snicker).  Kyle asks me the other day, "Mom, do you know how to beat box?"  While I'd like to think I could make it happen, I answer honestly, "Uh no baby, I don't."  And then he says, "It's easy.  Just say 'boots 'n cats' over and over again."  You know you just did it . . . and were kind of impressed with your bad ass beat boxing skillz.  Word.  Me too.
 
So you don't think I'm too terrible, I'll leave you with a song Getzy and I can both agree on . . . it's sappy, but man, what woman wouldn't want someone to sing this to them?  It makes me feel all gooey. 
And if you need some music recommendations, let me know.  I like to think I'm a professional.     
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1 comment:

  1. With the move and then Christmas and now summer, and well, just life -- I've gotten way behind on your blog. This one made me actually laugh out loud. I'm the same with inappropriate music. Love your blog, love keeping up with your life. Just thought I should say so :)

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