I Am Never Listening To Robbo Or Maxy Again

Madame's Nightshirt

Mrs. Peperium

One of the benefits to blogging, if there actually are any, is that after a while you tend to fall in with a crowd of likeable and, sometimes, even like-minded folks. After being among these folks it's not uncommon to be influenced by their writings. A few years back, after reading both Robbo and Maxy make arguments about listening to country music in the car with the kids (the lyrics are safe...yadayadayada...) I decided: why not?

So I did.

For a while all was swell. Then we hit our first speed bump. I got hauled out to the woodshed by our headmistress for Little Bertie, the Reverend Sharpton (our pit bull who was doing doughnuts in the backseat) and I going through the school parking lot at a good clip with all the windows down on the Jeep with Tim McGraw crooning (loudly) I'm gonna live where the green grass grows / watch my corn pop up in rows / every night be tucked in close to yoooooouuuuu...

Emerging gingerly from the woodshed, the sting of the cane not having subsided, I considered that maybe, just maybe, Robbo and Maxy were wrong about the positive effects of listening to country music with the kids.  After giving the matter some more thought--and placing a pillow on the driver's seat--I decided that listening to country music with the kids wasn't wrong; I just hadn't done it properly. 

So I resolved to ease up on the gas pedal and press on.

And all was well.  Until the other day.  The kids and I were driving in my new Jeep, John Wayne (he's another story; fear not, no bent metal is involved) and we were  listening to George Strait. Gosh I love George Strait. Really.  That guy gets to me. And because he does, I wasn't my usual attentive self when the regularly scheduled commercial break happened.  Usually I turn the radio down so the kids don't hear them. This time, at full blast, the first commercial out of the box was about a topic no one wants to hear about.  Ever. My reaction was the British one: remain calm and carry on. (Hey, it's the attitude that got Britain through the Blitz.) If I acted as if nothing was happening, maybe no one will notice what is happening, right? Wrong.  In less than 10 seconds the reaction set in.

"Mom, what's a reptile malfunction?"  asked Roger Kimball's future daughter-in-law.

"What, honey?" I said, playing for time.

"The man on the radio is talking about reptile malfunction?  What is it?"

"I don't know" I replied, gaining a tighter grip on the steering wheel.

Roger Kimball's future daughter-in-law is naturally inquisitive--this is why she's such a good match for Roger's son. So, not surprisingly, my answer didn't satisfy. "How would reptiles malfunction?" she asked.

"I don't know honey," I said. Then, wading into foolish waters, I added "This must be why they had to write a commercial about it.  You know Dad didn't write this commercial because he would have explained how reptiles actually malfunction."

Hearing his father's professional talents praised had the effect of uncorking Little Bertie. "Yeah, the guy who wrote this commercial is so dumb." he said proudly." Everybody knows reptiles don't malfunction. Only robots do."

.

Comments

[Robbo]

Reptile malfunction, eh? There's GOT to be a trouser-snake joke in there somewhere. DANGER, Will Robinson!

[Jordana]

Time to get an iPod, so you can avoid commercial radio.

[Diane]

Country music SAFE for kids? Remember that when you here Big and Rich's "Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy" and need to explain it.

Country can be just as crude as rap, just in a much more clever way.

[Diane]

Ugh. "Hear", not "here".

[Robbo]

Go to CD's: George Strait, Randy Travis, Allen Jackson....

And I agree about Big & Rich.

[Mrs. Peperium]

Heh.

The first time I heard Big & Rich's Save a horse, I thought, I really didn't just hear that did I?

Then I realized I did. Then I thought, well what else would you expect from cowboys who called themselves Big & Rich? The general rule of thumb being if you have to say it - you aren't....

The kids are aware many songs are not for listening and are not surprised when the radio gets shut off quickly.

[MCNS]

Ha! Whenever I listen to Rush in the hope of hearing Mrs P I am always amazed at the spate of reptile dysfunction ads. This led me to wonder why the putative spokesman for Conservative Virtue was countenancing reptile dysfunction ads in the middle of the day when kids could hear them, but it has since occurred to me that it's the local channel that's running the ads between segments of Rush (who's for free enterprise, not necessarily for Dr Richard Sandore's potent bedroom elixirs per se).

[Elelctric bicycles]

Hah, i would have like to see your face during that moment, and you should check your steering wheel too to see if there is no bumps on it.

[Crackie]

Is it reptile malfunction or reptile dysfunction? Is it a question of intent, and if so how is that determined?