Image hosted by

Monday, May 02, 2005

Baldheaded Woman

As most of you regulars know my mother is a lurker here at Home Fires. Unfortunately, she never comments. Instead she calls me. Sometimes she is laughing and sometimes she is in shock by the things I tell you "strangers", but the fact is, she loves the attention. Today, she gets to be mentioned in another post.

Typically this is about the point where she probably beings to cringe wondering what I may blurt next. By the title of this post, she already knows exactly where I am going with this.

All this recent talk about songs, lyrics and music got my wheels spitting up mud. I began to realize that although I have a knack for singing the correct words to songs of every genre, my parents didn't.

In the late 70s when disco was alive and I was writing "Disco Sucks" on my folders, while being a closet fan, Mom was singing her crazy little heart out. I remember how she used to dance with the broom or mop and have her music blaring in the kitchen. She sang loudly, off key and half of the time, the wrong words came out of her mouth.

While the Bee Gee's were singing "More Than A Woman", Mom was singing "Baldheaded Woman". How she thought that fit into the song was beyond me. She claims sometimes music just doesn't make sense. I think she should have just claimed insanity.

Maybe it was the line where the brothers sang, "Say you'll always be my baby, we can make it shine..." It could be that she thought the woman's head was in need of a buffing to make it shine.

My dad wasn't much better at knowing the words. While Donna Summer sang "On The Radio", Dad was singing "on the stereo", and not only was he singing the wrong words but he wasn't pronouncing stereo correctly. So it was more like, "On the steer-e-o."

Whenever he was called on it, he always claimed that they changed the words on him. Again.

I thought moving out of my parents place while I was still a teenager was a good idea. If nothing else, I could escape the madness of incorrect lyrics at a young age so the disease wouldn't be inflicted on me. Or so I thought. I didn't have my own place for very long because Mr. Lane needed a "place to crash" so he moved in with me. Little did I know, he also suffered from Kiss This Guy Syndrome.

Even though disco had all but died, Mr. Lane continued to play and sing it, poorly, incorrectly and loudly. "She's a freak owww!"

"What did you just say?" I asked in disbelief.
"This is your song baby, 'cuz you're a freak, owww."
"That's not how it goes! He is saying 'she's a brick house' dumb ass."
"No way!"
"Yes way!"

Eventually he believed me but that did not cure him. In fact the disease spread. Lane 2, my precious little girl also hears and sings lyrics incorrectly.

"They paved paradise and put up a..."
"Why did you stop singing honey? You sounded so nice."
"Mom! I can't say that bad word!"
"What bad word?"
"In the song."

She thought it said, "They paved paradise and put up a fucking light." instead of a parking lot.

From fucking lights to baldheaded women, I am surrounded by this disease.

Just so Mom feels a little less embarrassed about her bald chick song, maybe you guys can share some of your misheard madness in the comments today. And if you can't make fun of yourself, tell on someone else.