I think John Mayer is amazing, lyrically brilliant. He is a must-have staple for road trips and it should be a law that his music is played over and over in coffee shops on both the East and West coasts. I have never been to a concert, but if I ever get to go, I hope it’s to one of his…or Alison Krauss and Robert Plant…but I digress…
Anyway, even with all the accolades I could shower on this young man (young, ugh) who is definitely wise (lyrically, I must stress) beyond his Hollywood tainted years, there is one song I always skip. I don’t think I have even heard it all the way through but more than once or twice, not by choice (ok coffee shops, I can’t dictate ALL the rules), and the song is, “Your Body is a Wonderland.”
I have to admit pictures of theme parks spring into my mind, not any kind we could take the family to, but this song bugs me mostly because he claims it is written about one of his ex girlfriends (ewww). For some reason this information grosses me out in the same way that you get grossed out when you find out how you came to be on this planet, and that it involved your mom and dad, doing things…
So I really don’t want to know about her wonderland-ness, and actually I don’t think he goes into detail like he is capable of doing (I vaguely remember something about bubble gum, and his hands, which is not her body…hmmmm), so that is good. But really, this ex girlfriend was/is a young, childless freak-of-nature so, with his talent and take on life, I think he should rewrite the song once he gets married, and his wife pushes out a few or ten kids, then I want to hear the song.
See, you can’t hear a song like this, or a title like that, as a mom, and not change it to “Your Body is a Topographical Relief Map”, it’s just too easy a jump, unless you’re Brooke Burke. Something has to be wrong with her, like, she has to shave her back every day or she suffers from explosive gas or something…
OK OK…let me run through the disclaimer that yes, I am thankful for my body and that everything works and it allowed me to have two beautiful children and all that…BUT, this is about the topographical relief part…and it is graphic, and there is no relief, should you decide to keep reading…
I remember a story I read some time ago about a mom, who had twins, dressing in a locker room after a swim at the local pool. Two teenagers were standing in their bras and undies in front of the mirror, scrutinizing every “flaw” they saw and lamenting their misfortune of disfigurement. The mom couldn’t take it anymore and with only her towel on, walked over and flashed the girls in an attempt to make them “thankful” for what they had and DIDN’T have. The girls were horrified, and she said she was pretty sure they would never have kids after that experience.
I have now been both of those people, the teen that saw imaginary flaws and now the mom who has these “battle scars” that I try to wear proudly at the pool. Do any of you have any of these?
-Flesh-colored corduroy shorts that are actually my thighs.
-Lumps and bumps that have been coined, “cellulite”, a term that is not actually scientifically recognized, so I don’t’ recognize it either.
-Scars. No one has to see my c-section scar, but let me just say this second one is SO much better than the first, which looked like a worm crawling across my lower stomach.
-Other scars. I have to mention all my gouges from mole removals, because these are still big and purple, which contrast greatly with my legs, which are the color of death…
-Minimal muscle tone. OK this is purely my fault, but if I washed my hair more, which would make me do more squats and hold a heavy dryer, I’d have cleaner hair, shapelier thighs and maybe some tricep definition…
-“Cankles” So…I am not 100% sure I have these because my legs don’t often see the light of day. I actually think my ankles are for someone with a size 9 shoe, when I wear a 7 ½…
-The “girls” up top. Mine were always "small and humble", as I think Shakira once said of her’s, but at least they used to stay in place. Now, they are slightly bigger, but they certainly have no elastic integrity, and I am pretty sure they could fit into any mold I placed them into and they would fill in all the crevices. I think they are going to be perfect for mammograms.
-My neck. I am nearing 35 at an alarming rate, and my neck is like, “I am SO THERE!” This, of all my vain concerns, scares me the most. I think necks are so ugly when they are “old” and there’s not much you can do about it, like grow a beard or wear turtlenecks everyday. I slather all kinds of stuff on it, but I already have to two “collapsed veins” so I know it’s all downhill from here.
-My face. Now my face is a different story. On a good, rested day I can still pass for a chick in my 20’s. But, the main reason why this is so is because I still have ZITS! Like, a TON of zits! Nothing aggravates me more! I went through high school with porcelain skin and became a woman with adult acne. I call myself “lava face” because it seems as one big zit rises up, pops, and goes away, another one bubbles up right in its place. It is a constant battle to rid my face of these things, and I am hoping my 40’s will be such a hormonal turnaround that they go away FOREVER. Is it really that bad, you ask? Well, when your kids ask you if you have the Chicken Pox…yeah, I think it is…
-And lastly my hair. This is a cruel joke my follicles are playing on me, because the gray hairs that are sprouting are not willing to wear any hair dye I slap on my head. I am not ready to have gray hair in any way shape or form, so I am going to have to try some experiments, short of plucking them out, to get them covered and out of my visage…
So, John, while you are awesome, and I love your music, you have a lot of life-learnin’ to do, and I hope you will still be singing this song to your wife, with the same earnest sentiment, in about 15 years…
Anyway, even with all the accolades I could shower on this young man (young, ugh) who is definitely wise (lyrically, I must stress) beyond his Hollywood tainted years, there is one song I always skip. I don’t think I have even heard it all the way through but more than once or twice, not by choice (ok coffee shops, I can’t dictate ALL the rules), and the song is, “Your Body is a Wonderland.”
I have to admit pictures of theme parks spring into my mind, not any kind we could take the family to, but this song bugs me mostly because he claims it is written about one of his ex girlfriends (ewww). For some reason this information grosses me out in the same way that you get grossed out when you find out how you came to be on this planet, and that it involved your mom and dad, doing things…
So I really don’t want to know about her wonderland-ness, and actually I don’t think he goes into detail like he is capable of doing (I vaguely remember something about bubble gum, and his hands, which is not her body…hmmmm), so that is good. But really, this ex girlfriend was/is a young, childless freak-of-nature so, with his talent and take on life, I think he should rewrite the song once he gets married, and his wife pushes out a few or ten kids, then I want to hear the song.
See, you can’t hear a song like this, or a title like that, as a mom, and not change it to “Your Body is a Topographical Relief Map”, it’s just too easy a jump, unless you’re Brooke Burke. Something has to be wrong with her, like, she has to shave her back every day or she suffers from explosive gas or something…
OK OK…let me run through the disclaimer that yes, I am thankful for my body and that everything works and it allowed me to have two beautiful children and all that…BUT, this is about the topographical relief part…and it is graphic, and there is no relief, should you decide to keep reading…
I remember a story I read some time ago about a mom, who had twins, dressing in a locker room after a swim at the local pool. Two teenagers were standing in their bras and undies in front of the mirror, scrutinizing every “flaw” they saw and lamenting their misfortune of disfigurement. The mom couldn’t take it anymore and with only her towel on, walked over and flashed the girls in an attempt to make them “thankful” for what they had and DIDN’T have. The girls were horrified, and she said she was pretty sure they would never have kids after that experience.
I have now been both of those people, the teen that saw imaginary flaws and now the mom who has these “battle scars” that I try to wear proudly at the pool. Do any of you have any of these?
-Flesh-colored corduroy shorts that are actually my thighs.
-Lumps and bumps that have been coined, “cellulite”, a term that is not actually scientifically recognized, so I don’t’ recognize it either.
-Scars. No one has to see my c-section scar, but let me just say this second one is SO much better than the first, which looked like a worm crawling across my lower stomach.
-Other scars. I have to mention all my gouges from mole removals, because these are still big and purple, which contrast greatly with my legs, which are the color of death…
-Minimal muscle tone. OK this is purely my fault, but if I washed my hair more, which would make me do more squats and hold a heavy dryer, I’d have cleaner hair, shapelier thighs and maybe some tricep definition…
-“Cankles” So…I am not 100% sure I have these because my legs don’t often see the light of day. I actually think my ankles are for someone with a size 9 shoe, when I wear a 7 ½…
-The “girls” up top. Mine were always "small and humble", as I think Shakira once said of her’s, but at least they used to stay in place. Now, they are slightly bigger, but they certainly have no elastic integrity, and I am pretty sure they could fit into any mold I placed them into and they would fill in all the crevices. I think they are going to be perfect for mammograms.
-My neck. I am nearing 35 at an alarming rate, and my neck is like, “I am SO THERE!” This, of all my vain concerns, scares me the most. I think necks are so ugly when they are “old” and there’s not much you can do about it, like grow a beard or wear turtlenecks everyday. I slather all kinds of stuff on it, but I already have to two “collapsed veins” so I know it’s all downhill from here.
-My face. Now my face is a different story. On a good, rested day I can still pass for a chick in my 20’s. But, the main reason why this is so is because I still have ZITS! Like, a TON of zits! Nothing aggravates me more! I went through high school with porcelain skin and became a woman with adult acne. I call myself “lava face” because it seems as one big zit rises up, pops, and goes away, another one bubbles up right in its place. It is a constant battle to rid my face of these things, and I am hoping my 40’s will be such a hormonal turnaround that they go away FOREVER. Is it really that bad, you ask? Well, when your kids ask you if you have the Chicken Pox…yeah, I think it is…
-And lastly my hair. This is a cruel joke my follicles are playing on me, because the gray hairs that are sprouting are not willing to wear any hair dye I slap on my head. I am not ready to have gray hair in any way shape or form, so I am going to have to try some experiments, short of plucking them out, to get them covered and out of my visage…
So, John, while you are awesome, and I love your music, you have a lot of life-learnin’ to do, and I hope you will still be singing this song to your wife, with the same earnest sentiment, in about 15 years…
3 comments:
"the 'girls' up top". hahaha. mold. crevice. hahaha.
there's always the option of swinging them over your shoulders so as not to drag them on the floor...
You're a very talented writer. I can relate to you so well!!!!
Love ya! Amy F. in Alaska
This was funny! :) I totally relate!
Love the "revised" title of the song to fit a body-after-baby woman! Weird Al should pick that one up and cover it. heh...
BTW, I like the background layout on your blog.
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