This is the end of the innocence.

Posted by: , October 6, 2008 in 1:14 pm


Who knew that when Don Henley released this classic back in 1989 that his lyrics would play such a HUGE part in inspiring this week’s edition of Out-Numbered? No one. The question even more paramount than the prior, is probably, who cares? Is it possible to have an amount of people less than no one?

Fast-forward almost 20 years to a beautiful fall afternoon at a local farm festival. The family was having a fantastic time soaking up one last bit of sunshine on this Indian summer day. There were tons of activities to keep the kids busy. Hay rides, pumpkin picking, smelly game farm animals that have no place on a farm, like camels and zebras and of course my favorite fall festival activity… Kid Karaoke. WTF is this? Don’t you need to be drunk to enjoy this? The most agonizing part about kids attempting Karaoke is watching them stare at the screen trying desperately to read the words fast enough to sing them in time with the music. This is extra heartbreaking because for most kids there is so much at stake. First of all, most of the little kids that do Karaoke can’t read. Those of them that are able to read are beginners at best. What kind of cruel torture is this? I think it makes sense to measure a kid’s height before they go on a ride or a bouncy thing-a-majig at these things. It’s a safety precaution. Why the heck wouldn’t you make a kid take a short reading test before allowing them to sing Karaoke? I think if the proper precautions aren’t taken, the repercussions could be more damaging to a kid than the rides. There’s nothing that says fun like a kid messing up twinkle twinkle little star because they can’t read.

Unfortunately for me, my kid CAN read. Even worse than her exquisite reading ability is her knack for picking inappropriate songs for a 6 year old to sing. Here is the little ditty she belted out in front of a packed farm festival house. I’m so proud. Oh, by the way, insert kiddie bootie shaking whenever you feel compelled because that was running rampant throughout the performance.

Lyrics to G.N.O. (Girl’s Night Out):

Don’t call me

Leave me alone

Not gonna answer my phone

Cuz I don’t

No I won’t see you

 

I’m out to have a good time

To get you off of my mind

Cuz I don’t

And I won’t need you

 

Send out a 911

We’re gonna have some fun

Hey boy, you know

You better run

 

Cuz it’s a girl’s night

It’s alright without you

I’m gonna stay out

And play out without you

You better hold tight

This girl’s night is without you

Let’s go

G.N.O.

Let’s go

It’s a girl’s night

 

I’ll dance with somebody new

Won’t have to think about you

And who knows

What let go will lead to

 

You’ll hear from everyone

You’ll get the 411

Hey boy

You knew this day would come

 

[CHORUS]

Hey boy

Don’t you wish you could have been a good boy

Try to find another girl like me, boy

Feel me when I tell ya

I am fine

And it’s time for me to draw the line

END of Lyrics…

Uh, awkward. Aside from being completely impressed with my daughter’s ability to tap into her inner Madonna, I was pretty mortified. Heck, I didn’t even know she was dating. Is this ok? Should my 6 year old be belting out musical rants about late night raves and bootie calls? Am I just a dad that doesn’t want to hear the noun that starts with a B and ends with a Y anywhere in my daughter’s vocabulary? When did we jump from sippy cups to sexy butts? I just find it to be a bitter pill to swallow.

I’m sure some of the more “liberal” parents out there are saying, “Dude, it’s just a song.” Well, it might be just a song but it’s a song that teaches my kid stuff that she doesn’t need to know just yet.  For goodness sake, she’s only 6. She’s at least a year away from a cell phone. That was a joke by the way. She also has a 2-year-old sister that repeats everything she says.  All I need is my 2 year old walking around the house in a thong diaper asking me if I have the 411 on her milky.

It’s not easy to keep our kids at a safe distance from all the contaminated info out there. I’m not a “Patriot Act” kind of Dad. But there are too many outlets for which the info can be distributed. Television, movies, video games, magazines, radio, internet, ipods and of course, the dreaded school. Come to think of it, when I was a kid, I did quite the rendition of Grease Lightning, right down to the white T and greased back hair. Wait a second; let’s take a closer look at that one. After all, I turned out just fine.

 

Lyrics to Grease Lightning:

 

Why this car is automatic

It’s systematic

It’s hydromatic

Why it’s grease lightning (Grease lightning)

 

We’ll get some overhead lifters and some four barrel quads

oh yeah

(Keep talking whoa keep talking)

A fuel injection cutoff and chrome plated rods oh yeah

(I’ll get the money I’ll kill to get the money)

With a four speed on the floor they’ll be waiting at the door

You know that ain’t no shit we’ll be getting lots of tit

In Grease Lightning

Go, go, go, go, go, go, go, go, go, go

 

Go grease lightning you’re burning up the quarter mile

(Grease lightning go grease lightning)

Go grease lightning you’re coasting through the heat lap trial

You are supreme the chicks’ll cream for grease lightning

Go, go, go, go, go, go, go, go, go, go

 

Purple french tail lights and thirty inch fins

oh yeah

A Palomino dashboard and duel muffler twins

oh yeah

With new pistons, plugs, and shocks I can get off my rocks

You know that I ain’t bragging she’s a real pussy wagon

Grease lightning

 

Go grease lightning you’re burning up the quarter mile

(Grease lightning go grease lightning)

Go grease lighting you’re coasting through the heat lap trial

You are supreme the chicks’ll cream for grease lightning

Go grease lightning you’re burning up the quarter mile

(Grease lightning go grease lightning)

Go grease lighting you’re coasting through the hit lap trial

You are supreme the chicks’ll cream for grease lightning

Lightning, lightning, lightning

Lightning, lightning, lightning

Lightning

 

END of lyrics.

 

And…

 

END of Blog.

 

You know what they say… The more things change, the more they stay Out-Numbered.

 

 


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