It wasn't a very pleasant drive to school this morning with my teen. Our ongoing battle over music went another round. It usually goes something like this:
I'll turn on talk radio, and just as I'm settling in to the soothing wit of Doug McIntyre In The Morning, she rolls her eyes and flips the dial to KIIS FM until some stupid-ass Rap song comes on -- Chris Brown, Acorn, or whatever his name is, they all sound alike! -- and then starts busting her Janet-Jackson-like moves, right there in the seat next to me.
That's when I roll my eyes and switch the station back to Talk Radio, invoking my rights as an adult, her mother, owner of the car and therefore, commander of the airwaves.
She bites back with, "Were you always this boring when you were younger?" That comment sends me into a quick, but thoughtful, analysis of my boring adolescence, so I respond very defensively: "I'm your mother. I don't have to be entertaining."
She then proceeds to explain the history of music to me, as only a 15-year-old could: "The Beatles are so yesterday, Mom. And Cher -- she sounds like a transvestite!" I counter with, "Yeah, well at least she has a distinctive sound. Cher comes on the radio and you know instantly who it is. All the rappers you listen to sound like the same person. I think they've hypnotized teenagers with that ridiculous, thumping, repetitive beat."
She then delivers the knockout punch: "Times have changed, Mom. Deal with it!" I turn off the radio and we listen to the passing of time the rest of the way to school.
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I'll turn on talk radio, and just as I'm settling in to the soothing wit of Doug McIntyre In The Morning, she rolls her eyes and flips the dial to KIIS FM until some stupid-ass Rap song comes on -- Chris Brown, Acorn, or whatever his name is, they all sound alike! -- and then starts busting her Janet-Jackson-like moves, right there in the seat next to me.
That's when I roll my eyes and switch the station back to Talk Radio, invoking my rights as an adult, her mother, owner of the car and therefore, commander of the airwaves.
She bites back with, "Were you always this boring when you were younger?" That comment sends me into a quick, but thoughtful, analysis of my boring adolescence, so I respond very defensively: "I'm your mother. I don't have to be entertaining."
She then proceeds to explain the history of music to me, as only a 15-year-old could: "The Beatles are so yesterday, Mom. And Cher -- she sounds like a transvestite!" I counter with, "Yeah, well at least she has a distinctive sound. Cher comes on the radio and you know instantly who it is. All the rappers you listen to sound like the same person. I think they've hypnotized teenagers with that ridiculous, thumping, repetitive beat."
She then delivers the knockout punch: "Times have changed, Mom. Deal with it!" I turn off the radio and we listen to the passing of time the rest of the way to school.
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