From the Heart
After a five-hour marathon of watching the golf tournament, until the skies darkened and play was halted after the 16th hole, Chuck asked me what I wanted to watch.
“Let’s check out the Grammys.”
I was more interested in the fashion than the music. The fashion did not disappoint.
I think Moses could have been the designer of many of the dresses that the women wore. You know, he parted the Red Sea and believe me, those necklines were parted for miles. One slight sneeze and the cameras would be in trouble with the powers that make and control the obscenity and wardrobe malfunction rules.
Chuck asked me if I would know any of the singers and musicians. A few.
I do enjoy the music of some of the contemporary singers. Lady Gaga. Bruno Mars. Alicia Keys. Ed Sheeran. To name a few … a very few.
While I grew up with country music, I know very few of those who are on the Top 10 today. I’m more of a Patsy Cline, Martina McBride and Noblesville’s own Steve Wariner kind of a listener.
Back to the Grammys.
I’m not sure what most of the rap singers were saying. That was probably a good thing.
A gal who I thought was named Cardio was actually Cardi B. I struggled to understand the lyrics to her song “Money.” I honestly thought she was singing “I gotta p**p.”
When I looked up the lyrics to her song, I blushed. To say the least, I was shocked and appalled. I will refrain from writing them in this column for fear of not knowing what some of the lyrics actually mean. The lyrics, I do understand, are not rated PG.
I know I am old fashioned, conservative and an old school music lover but I really showed my age watching the Grammys. I’m glad that I understood very little of the words they were singing.
I can sing along with most lyrics of the 60s and 70s rock and roll songs that I grew up hearing. It’s hard to imagine my grandkids singing the lyrics of the songs they listen to today when they are in their 60s.
The dancing on the Grammys made my hips hurt. I hope these young dancers know a good chiropractor when they are older. They will need one. As my mother would say, they gyrated like they had a bee in their britches. Not all their parts will be able to be replaced when they are worn out.
Back to the fashion. I was raised that you do not show your lady parts in public, let alone wear pants depicting them. Had my mother seen the dancing of Janelle Monáe’s dancers wearing vagina pants she would have had a come apart. A not-so-pretty come apart. Let’s just say that the song “Pynk” made me blush a bit. Actually, I felt my cheeks turn red. The cheeks on my face. Sheesh, I feel the need to explain more than I should.
Anyway, these are my thoughts this week. I think I’ll stick to watching golf. It’s a lot less painful and much easier on the ears. And that my dear friends … is a wrap!