Some Days I'm Glad I Don't Have Daughters

I was watching a television talent show. There was a sweet little girl, about middle son's age (10ish). The little girl stepped out from behind the thick blue curtain, her striped shirt clung to her slightly protruding belly. Her thick brown hair was pulled back by a sparkly pink headband and she showed no signs of excitement, nor fear, when she grabbed the mike.


In fact, with no background music, it took me a second to register that she was singing:



"Wake up in the morning feeling like P. Diddy,
Grab my glasses I'm out the door,
I'm gonna hit the city,
Before I leave I brush my teeth with a bottle of Jack..."



**sound of needle scratching across an album in my head**

WHAT? What did she just say? I try to refocus.


"...Don't stop, make it pop,
DJ blow my speakers up,
Tonight, I'mma fight,
'til we see the sunlight,
Tick Tock, on the clock,
But the party don't stop, no..."



The song is by Ke$ha, one of the latest crop of pop stars, who isn't just a horrible songwriter, but a horrible role model. Like cigarettes, her music should come with a warning label--WARNING: KE$HA IS A SKANK WHO WRITES SHITTY SONGS ABOUT GETTING DRUNK AND GROPED AND YOU SHOULD NOT LET YOUR YOUNG DAUGHTER LISTEN TO HER.

Granted, it would be a big label, but still.

I started to rift in my head about how much worse the pop-stars of today are in terms of setting good examples for young girls, but then I remembered a scrappy, young, up-and-comer, from my youth:

I wonder what ever became of her.

Anyway, I'm not sure that the likes of Ke$ha, or Lady Gaga, or even Ms. Miley Cyrus are actually all that different than who I grew up listening to, except for one thing. We didn't have constant access (or Access Hollywood) to their image the way kids do today.

MTV was in its infancy when I was growing up, and we didn't always had cable. There were no cell phones or internet (or wheels). If you wanted to be negatively influenced by a celebrity then had to save up your money, get a ride to the mall to grab a record at the record store, and, of course, the latest issue of Teen Beat.

But the point is, I was horrified that the little girl on the stage, and more precisely her parents, felt it was an appropriate song to sing in this talent show.

I don't have a daughter, so maybe I'm being all judgey (which I'm allowed to, 'cuz it's my blog, yo) but I wondered if that girl had any idea what the lyrics she was singing meant. And quite frankly I think I'd be more horrified if she did, but certainly her mom and dad did.

Watching this girl singing about "crunking" and "her junk," made me so incredibly grateful that I have a son. Boys don't seem to try to emulate their favorite celebrities by dressing like them, or trying to be "sexy." The concept of sexy does not generally have a home in a prepubescent boy's mental roladex.

I'm sure my mother hated some of the music I listened to back in the day. But I managed to avoid teenage pregnancy, (barely), despite songs like "Like a Virgin." Sure I think you should Purell your TV after watching a Ke$ha video with your 8-year old little girl (actually I don't think you should be watching a Ke$ha video with an 8-year-old girl under any circumstance), and yes, Lady Gaga may be nutty as a fruit cake, but apparently even Queen Elizabeth digs her "Po-po-poker Face."

And if it's good enough for the original Diva, who am I to quibble?