... or as we like to sing, "Lurrrrrrrvvvvv."
But seriously, let's stop and think here how often young people have their ear buds in. At any chance they have, they place those in their ears, and listen to whatever they like. I'm a whopping 30 years old, and I have to say that popular music has really gone downhill in the wholesome vanilla department. When I was 14, I bought my first CD- Greenday... The worst line in there was a little racy (think, "I bite my lip and close my eyes...). But here's the thing... I had no idea what it even meant! Nowadays, overt is the deal. I've been thinking about this post for a while, and I've narrowed it down to the top 3 (in my humble opinion) worst messages that popular music offers in the love (lurv) department. I have also included links to the videos on youtube, just in case you would like to really soak in the inappropriateness of it all!
3. Oh Justin Bieber... you know so very little when it comes to life in the long run. "All I need is a beauty and a beat to make my life complete..." Let's look at what that really means. You want a pretty girl. What heterosexual male could disagree? Exactly. A beat... so you like rhythm in your music. Great, so does most of the world (those who "have" rhythm, anyway)... But to be clear... hot girl, plus nice song, equals a complete life? Please honey. You put the "melo" in melodramatic... Your beauty? She's gonna get old! Gravity is nobody's friend. Nobody's. Your beat? It will get old and tired just like every beat in history. So as far as your life's completeness goes, we need to think again. Way to tell the world that temporary, material things can provide fulfillment. Check out his less-than-wholesome love message here.
2. "I've been locked out of heaven..." I can't really go into much detail with this song, because I am admittedly prude (or conservative if you want to be generous, but the word is really prude). However, to place that much emphasis on that one thing... just wrong. Way to tell the youth of the world that THAT could possibly be important and defining enough to compare to heaven. Whether you are a person of religion or not, you just don't go comparing that stuff to eternal life. Sorry, Bruno Mars. You can check out his less than wholesome music here, if you are brave. Not me... I found the link and busted out of there!
1. The number one spot goes to... drum roll please... Ne-Yo! "Let me love you." This song has a sweet melody, I like it. The problem I have with it is the message. Partly this: "Girl let me love you, until you learn to love yourself..." Great, girls, just great. So now you think that you can only have self love when some romeo sweeps you off your feet and makes you feel worthwhile? No, no, no way. That is called codependency... It is also called allowing someone else to control your sense of self-worth. Guess what girl? You were worth a million before some guy came around and wrote a song about rescuing you. You need to be happy alone, and happy with who you are, before you can ever expect to be happy in a relationship. Being rescued is not the answer!
The world knows these things, I hope, on some level. But bombarding people with the message that somehow, some relationship will rectify insecurity, self doubt, and an ugly past, is wrong. It is also wrong to tell the world that physical and material fulfillment completes anything. Period.
Gosh dang, I almost hurt myself trying to climb off that soap box. I'll be here all week... hahahaha.
Friday, February 8, 2013
PS: I Quit!
Confession: I am painfully practical, almost always.
I strategically planned my first pregnancy (as strategically as one could possibly plan that) to deliver only months after completing my Master's degree.
I knew my limits as a human being, and "retired" from working in youth ministry when baby #2 was scheduled to arrive just 17 short months after baby #1. And as funny as that sounds, that timing was also on purpose.
I keep three calendars, all up to date. One for each school I work at, and one at home.
I don't buy clothes that aren't comfortable, or clothes that might accidentally be interpreted as revealing. Not my thing.
Hubby and I started planning the wedding before I had the diamond ring/proposal, because obviously, since I was a teacher, we had to have a summer wedding. And we knew we would get married. So, out of practicality, we planned away, and got engaged somewhere in that time frame.
In almost all aspects of life, I'm a practical girl. I wear my sunscreen, I don't make reckless decisions, and most of the time, I'm level headed (except that time I taught my kids the phrase, "Get in the corner! I am done with you!"... that was not level... nor were the decibels at which I expressed those sentiments! And now, I am reminded of it daily when they yell it at me).
So, I cannot really explain to myself WHY ON EARTH I thought I was capable of raising a family, working full time (I go to 2 schools, every day, to be clear, and teach 5 periods a day), maintaining many household responsibilities because Hubby is working with a new business as well as his old job, AND GET A DOCTORAL DEGREE... Seriously. I mean, just read that last sentence again... it spells bite-off-more-than-any-human-can-chew-like-ever, and a little bit crazy too. But along with being practical, I am a little stubborn. Bull headed, some might even say. But I HAD to do it. Why? No definite direction, really. I wanted the challenge, and I wanted those three pretty letters next to my name. I dreamed of a wedding invitation addressed to Mr & Doctor... Pay raise? No, unless you count the $3,000/year I would get. Which would never pay back what we were spending on the degree. So, with reckless abandon, I dove in. The first class was truly great, and I learned so much. I was starting class number two, when I realized that in a month's time, I had not even completed a third of the first assignment, which was required to even be considered "enrolled" in that course. Uh-Oh!
After contemplation, tears, and many conversations with my family... I quit. It rocked in many ways. It rocked me, because I felt like a failure, and a quitter. It also rocked in a positive way, because I started to feel human again. I didn't want to sacrifice time with my kids in favor of course work, so I would stay up late and rotate between reading, writing, falling asleep, waking up startled (and stressed if too much time had passed), and then repeating. But most of all, it rocked because I knew I made the right choice. So, with pride, I announce to the world (well, all 7 of you who actually read this): I QUIT... and I'm proud of it!
I strategically planned my first pregnancy (as strategically as one could possibly plan that) to deliver only months after completing my Master's degree.
I knew my limits as a human being, and "retired" from working in youth ministry when baby #2 was scheduled to arrive just 17 short months after baby #1. And as funny as that sounds, that timing was also on purpose.
I keep three calendars, all up to date. One for each school I work at, and one at home.
I don't buy clothes that aren't comfortable, or clothes that might accidentally be interpreted as revealing. Not my thing.
Hubby and I started planning the wedding before I had the diamond ring/proposal, because obviously, since I was a teacher, we had to have a summer wedding. And we knew we would get married. So, out of practicality, we planned away, and got engaged somewhere in that time frame.
In almost all aspects of life, I'm a practical girl. I wear my sunscreen, I don't make reckless decisions, and most of the time, I'm level headed (except that time I taught my kids the phrase, "Get in the corner! I am done with you!"... that was not level... nor were the decibels at which I expressed those sentiments! And now, I am reminded of it daily when they yell it at me).
So, I cannot really explain to myself WHY ON EARTH I thought I was capable of raising a family, working full time (I go to 2 schools, every day, to be clear, and teach 5 periods a day), maintaining many household responsibilities because Hubby is working with a new business as well as his old job, AND GET A DOCTORAL DEGREE... Seriously. I mean, just read that last sentence again... it spells bite-off-more-than-any-human-can-chew-like-ever, and a little bit crazy too. But along with being practical, I am a little stubborn. Bull headed, some might even say. But I HAD to do it. Why? No definite direction, really. I wanted the challenge, and I wanted those three pretty letters next to my name. I dreamed of a wedding invitation addressed to Mr & Doctor... Pay raise? No, unless you count the $3,000/year I would get. Which would never pay back what we were spending on the degree. So, with reckless abandon, I dove in. The first class was truly great, and I learned so much. I was starting class number two, when I realized that in a month's time, I had not even completed a third of the first assignment, which was required to even be considered "enrolled" in that course. Uh-Oh!
After contemplation, tears, and many conversations with my family... I quit. It rocked in many ways. It rocked me, because I felt like a failure, and a quitter. It also rocked in a positive way, because I started to feel human again. I didn't want to sacrifice time with my kids in favor of course work, so I would stay up late and rotate between reading, writing, falling asleep, waking up startled (and stressed if too much time had passed), and then repeating. But most of all, it rocked because I knew I made the right choice. So, with pride, I announce to the world (well, all 7 of you who actually read this): I QUIT... and I'm proud of it!
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