Alas, I have been a fan of The Eagles for years and as such, I love chugging all night…or at least I love the song that espouses it. So I have it on my iPod and I listen to it – a lot.
Cheyenne finds it disturbing…disturbing because parents of teenagers don’t chug. Upon reflection I can understand why the notion of a chugging parent would be distasteful to a kid. Heaven knows I would be hardpressed to stomach a like notion regarding my parents as a full-grown adult. There is not enough brain sanitizer to remove such an unsavory image from a kid’s mind (no matter how old they are).
But to be fair, it’s only a song. It is not all that different from hundreds of other songs that weave the notion of sex into them either somewhat subtlely or outright. The great Marvin Gaye sang Let’s Get it On; The Doors sang Light My Fire; Tom Jones sang Sex Bomb; and, Salt-n-Pepa sang Let’s Talk About Sex…oh yes, sex is definitely woven through our musical DNA.
But that wasn’t really Cheyenne’s concern – the fact that sex has liberally been interwoven throughout music for decades. Cheyenne’s beef was with me singing, “I do believe we could chug all night, I do believe we could hug all night…” – hence her admonishment:
Parents of teenagers don’t chug.
I wish I had the words to convey the level of disdain with which she delivers this edict. It is if she is the all-knowing, and quite proper, queen; while I am the ignorant, and uncouth, peasant. I must confess, the scorn with which she delivers her directive just makes me want to sing louder.
Luckily, Cheyenne is not yet a teenager, so for better or worse – even if one is to take her non-chugging premise as true – I am not presently the parent of a teenager. The way I see it, if the loophole fits you should wear it…with glee.
So tomorrow morning I am putting the song on repeat so I can listen to it over and over again – and maybe I’ll dance too. And trust me my friends, there will never be sufficient brain sanitizer to wipe away that image…even if I never play the song again in my lifetime (or at least while I am the parent of a teenager).
Sometimes being the parent of a pre-teen who thinks she has it all figured out is just too delicious for words…it is something that simply must be captured and retained in the mind’s eye.
Day nine hundred and thirty-three of the new forty – obla di obla da