Some moron once said that it takes a village to raise a child. I say “bullsh*t”. What’s the first word that comes to mind when someone says “village”? “Idiot”. Exactly. Do you want an idiot raising your kid? I certainly don’t.
Henceforth, we have decided that our children will be raised in a progressive way, using music. Granted, there’s a lot to be decided here, at first glance, anyway. As we looked into potential sources for musical wisdom, we found that, for the most part, great songwriters are like philosophers and teachers, each expounding knowledge on situations you or I may run into every day. Bernie Taupin is a great example, as is Harry Chapin, Springsteen, and Dylan… All have a lot to offer in our musical child-rearing idea. However, amongst the good, we found some real crap, too.
Enya, for instance. No way I’m allowing my kids to grow up thinking that world is made up of moody-ass sailors and stars and whatever the hell else this broad sings about in a mix of what might be French, might be Klingon. Any pop performer? No. Nothing you can learn about life from anyone like that. This Fergie broad? No. She used the term “fergalicious”. That’s just made-up shit there. My kids will have a sense of reality. So we hunted high and low. Blues? Yes. There will be Albert and Buddy, and BB and Stevie Ray and others… loads of great information to be gleaned from their experiences. But we needed more….
And then we found it.
Motley Crue is the band we have chosen. Their lyrics are incredible when you’re a teenager in the ’80’s…. And almost cryptic now. But I chose their “Dr. Feelgood” album as the new “Dr. Spock” of my home, and I’ll explain why:
First, we learn music appreciation. Any band that yells “guitar!” before a solo is a huge help. Prior to hearing this album, whenever I heard a guitar solo, I’d think “harpsichord? tuba? bongos, perhaps?” This is a big help.
Next, we learn about lyrics, mainly via bad examples. For instance, “hoochy-cootchie” is a phrase best left to Muddy Waters. In “Crue Land”, the women are beyond simple “hoochy”, and their “cootchies” are legendary. In fact, they are basically cootchie squared. (which led me to ponder the sheer logistical terror of any woman equipped with a square cootchie. I mean, beyond the simple “holy crap, what happened THERE?!” moment you’d certainly experience, is the nightmare of, well, for lack of a better description, pounding a round peg into a square hole. That just has “bad night” written all over it. Moving along, let’s take this song-by-song (see? we’re learning already! Rhyming is fun.):
It kicks off with “Terror in Tinseltown”. Right there, you have your “drugs are bad” speech. It’s further defined in the title track, as we learn about a dope dealer and his tough times. He drives a sh*tbox, hangs with lowlifes and eventually meets his fate. Good lesson in there. Don’t be a douchebag.
Next on the list: “Slice of Your Pie”. Here we have a nifty metaphor about eating right, with a subtext that can be used for the “birds and the bees” talk. We learn about moderation (Vince simply asks for one more slice… not three or four). We learn that even plain girls deserve attention in high school, as she turns out to be quite a piece of a** later on, and almost causes a neck injury when our narrator sees her later on. We also learn to appreciate women from all aspects (“…always walk behind you for the rear view”). Powerful stuff.
“Rattlesnake Shake”. Beats the sh*t out of me. Maybe exercise. Lots of posterior motion in this one. Good for the glutes.
Moving along, we have “Kickstart My Heart”, which basically says “get a f*cking hobby that involves cars, and go fast a lot.” Amen.
“Without You”. Appreciate the people in your life. Otherwise, they’ll leave, and you’ll write a sh*tty song about it.
In the catchy “Same Old Situation”, we learn that all women are basically the same whores. We learn that people say one thing, and do another. And we learn the value of safe sex, and that when you meet your lovely new bride’s old “friend” with the tattoos and long hair, that she probably didn’t learn that thing with her tongue from reading Cosmopolitan.
“Sticky Sweet”. Again, moderation. But we learn that a “fire in my pants” isn’t a good thing, and that longevity in the sack is a part of any healthy relationship. (furthermore, replace the lyrics with “she’s got stinky/got stinky/she’s got stinky feet”, and we learn that parody is fun, too)
In “She Goes Down”, we learn that life is misery, and the grass IS, in fact, greener on the other side. (and just how creepy that altered laugh is at the beginning, when you discover that it’s Vince. WTF??) We also learn that any girl who goes down this much will sleep with all of your friends. Sure, they’ll appreciate it, but see “Without You” above for the generally accepted outcome.
“Don’t Go Away Mad (Just Go Away)” teaches us that not everything lasts forever, and that hanging out with you buddies can solve any relationship issue (unless, of course, the little lady in question is the one from the previous song, and she’s doing what she does while you’re in the same room.) It teaches us that, in a delicate, nowhere situation, it’s OK to say “f*ck it, get out”.
Last in line, we have “Time For Change”. This will be left off of our “Crue Raising Mix Tape of Life”, as we cannot begin to fathom what idiot kid would have been telling Vince that they “lost all faith in the world”. Unless they mean “there are no more hot chicks to discover, you have f*cked them all”, then we could understand. But, instead, they act as if this guy, at this point in his life was going to solve the world’s problems. Perhaps. Just maybe, if we all head to the bar and land some hotties, it’d be a better place.
In summary, this is our choice. It takes a Crue to raise kids, and, by golly, you may just want to keep yours away from ours a little later in life, should you choose some other, less testosterone-driven alternative.
