This morning, I brought Clara to her gym class and was subjected to the musical styling of a Journey cover band that transformed classic songs such as Don’t Stop Believin’ and Any Way You Want It into dorky versions of the same song thanks to the addition of a oh-shucks-golly-gee-wilikers lead singer.
Same words. Same music. Terrible singer. I don’t get it.
What was wrong with playing the originals?
Even more befuddling was the cover of the Lady Gaga song Bad Romance that removed the word bitch.
While the removal of this word was sensible considering the age of the audience (children under the age of two), you have to wonder why Lady Gaga even made the playlist.
It certainly did nothing to inspire my seventeen-month old, who is unaware of the existence of Lady Gaga and could care less about her music or popularity. And it did nothing for me, particularly considering it was another dorky cover of the original song.
And since it did not appeal to anyone in the gym, what’s the point in including a song that needs to be censored for profanity?
And more important, what will be next?
Clean versions of Playboy magazine in the waiting area, with little paper dresses pasted over the nude models’?
A sanitized version of a Richard Pryor comedy routine on the flat screen television, dubbed over with the voice of Kermit the Frog?
Penthouse Forums in the restrooms in which all references to sex are replaced with references to rubber ducks, bath time toys and Tickle-Me Elmo?
There comes a time when certain things are better left in their original form rather than attempting to sanitize them for a child’s benefit.
