Capital I

Awhile back I was thinking of a skit from Sesame Street about a kid who goes to the store for a loaf of bread, stick of butter, and carton of milk….or something like that. I wanted to watch it again, after 30-some years, so I asked Google to tell me where it was. A few keystrokes later and I found it – thank goodness for YouTube! The skit was not as good as I remembered, but I did find other gems….long lost ditties from my childhood: Ladybug Picnic, the Operatic Orange, My Hero Zero, Lowercase n, and my all-time (ok, adult-time) favorite Capital I (click on the titles to play the videos). I have played Capital I way too many times, and did so yet again today after watching part of the Electric Company (EC). I had last seen EC around the time I last saw the “loaf of bread” skit….a loooong time ago. I was very disheartened to see that there are now rap song skits on EC. I actually cannot remember the content of the show from 30 years ago, but I know it did not include rap. My first thought when I saw the 2K EC was “ew, I don’t want baby L watching that? Why can’t they play things like Capital I and Lowercase n anymore.” Now, the rap lyrics were not bad….I mean they were just rappin bout the letters “e”, “a”, and “o,” so how bad could it be….word up letter “e”, YO! Anyway, in case you cannot tell, I don’t really like rap. Thanks to K I have learned to appreciate the genius of Eminem, but that’s about as far as it goes at this point. Well, I take that back...I did write a rap song for our pet chinchilla, T Rat:

T Rat Rap

Gimme a “T” for “the”

My name’s T Rat, YO,

And I’m here to say

I eat little dried pellets and clumps a’ hay

Rockin it out in the U S of Aaaye

Got a Homie called bunny

And he’s my little honey

But whoops I dunno if he’s a she or what

All’s I know if we c’make a baby It’d be rabilla mut

Cuz I am a’chillin, real chinchilla heir

Got the fur worth millions that those rich ladies wear

I been to Massachusetts, been to Tennessee, now in Alabama

But wherever I am, always stuck in the slammer

Little paws behind bars, what’d this chilla do

Just pee wherever and drop a bunch of poo

My keepers they bought a house in Tennessee

Where they promise I’ll be a lil more free

But me, I dunno, they take me there now

Let me run in the fields like I’s a little cow

When all’s I wanna do is chill in the shade

Cuz its daytime and that makes me real afraid

For I’m a wanted Rat, they all be after me

From the fox in the woods to the eagle in the tree

To the snake in the grass to the man with a gun

Out to get his wife some soft fur for her bum

But I got some pleasures, I love them dried grapes

Love to break free and hide behind the drapes

Like to chase my honey round and round

Pretendin like I’s some big tough wolfhound

My keepers, they done this to me

So the circle goes round, in attempt to feel free

It’s all okay, YO, word to your mother

For T Rat’s here, just a chin chillin, rockin out like no other

T Rat

Many many years ago, when I was in my hoochie mama fashion phase, I was shopping with my mother and found this wonderful (so I thought at the time) red off-the-shoulder sheath mini dress – one of those skin tight numbers that was in style in the 80’s and early 90’s. I had been looking for just such a dress to wear out dancing and was excited when I found it. I don't know why I was so enamored with red since it might as well be black as far as my perception goes. I suppose I have always had an affinity for the concept of red; when I was a young child I apparently told my mom that I wanted a red bra when I got "those bumpy things." Ok, back to my story....I tried on the dress and showed my mother, who was mortified by it, saying something like “I would be ashamed to be out with you in that.” I really wanted to buy the dress (more for my stupid boyfriend at the time than for myself), but she got very upset about that prospect – I think she literally was in tears. I bought it anyway (partly just to spite her I think....sorry mom) and we both went stalking out of the store.

When I realized that baby L would be watching rap on PBS and probably liking it I had to accept the fact that I will need to let her like things that I do not. I will have to let her buy clothes I think are ugly and listen to music that I think sucks or is lewd. There are limits, of course, and I will need to intervene if she (god forbid) develops a crack habit, but clothes and music, in and of themselves, are innocent. I must accept change once again; baby L will grow up in a world of cell phones, rap music, instant messaging, email, hyper-real video games, DVDs by mail, and who knows what else. This is a far cry from my childhood of, um…..hmmmm….phones with cords that tangled up, heavily synthesized music, snail mail, Atari with 2D graphics and the Lemonade game, and movies on giant tapes that you had to go to the store to get.