Tipper Gore & me

Today's NaBloPoMo has me over at Today's Parent, wondering when I turned into Tipper Gore. For reals. Rachel read this and said, "I didn't realize I was married to a pro-censorship feminist." Which, I think, is a bit over the top. I just don't want my kids singing about taking a ride on anyone's discuss stick just yet:

I’m showing my age here, but: remember Tipper Gore? I do. I remember her as the wife of then US vice president Al Gore. I remember her as the one who — going on 20 years ago now — sought to protect the delicate ears of American youth by advocating for warning labels on music with explicit lyrics.

At the time, I rolled my eyes. I was in my early 20s, in university, away from home, trying out all kinds of explicit things or at least pretending that one day I might. My friends and I played and danced to a wide range of so-called “explicit” music — “An hour of Prince a day” was one of our mottos, and many days we managed to get in a good chunk of that hour, “Little Red Corvette” and “Raspberry Beret” interspersed with, yes, including “Darling Nikki” and “Sexy Motherf****r.”

I remember thinking that Tipper Gore must have had a little bit too much time on her hands, that she must have had to dig deep into the bucket of Second-Lady issues to come up with the explicit-song-lyric card. I mean, there had to be much more pressing problems than bad words in songs. And anyway, her concern seemed misguided; her anxiety over her precious children’s innocence too stage-mothery and stifling.

Fast forward 20 years, to last night, my house.

You can read more over Today'sParent.ca.

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I am taking part in NaBloPoMo, National Blog Posting Month, which has me posting a blog entry every day throughout the month of November.