Growing up with Mick and the boys

I have always had a thing for the Stones-especially Mick. I blame it on Catholic school-the Stones were the antidote to the nuns endless discussions of chastity and purity. My mother was mortified-as I am sure countless of other mothers before her have been over the years. She called him "Liver lips" and said that the music was "sick." Mind you, she was no prude. She was a poker playing aficionado who worked when it was unheard of for women to work-but she didn't like Mick. And oh how I liked that she didn't like the Stones. Isn't that what teenagers are supposed to do?  Embrace things their parents hate? Yes, I am now eating my words as I listen to "N" crank up lyrics I find just plain wrong. Just wait, all of you out there with little ones-never say never. After carefully raising our guys on everything from The Stones to Elton John (Gee can you tell I am 48?) to Barbara Streisand, they still love to give mom a jolt every now and then with some outrageous lyric. And I don't shock easily-but you know, having kids can bring out the conservative in you.

Music is a balm and a jolt to the confines of adolescent life. I remember screaming "The Bitch is back" with Elton John, mentally picturing a teacher I hated.  "Only women bleed" by Alice Cooper  was a great parent shocker. In the early 70's, that was pretty racey. How far we have come or-how low we have stooped with the whole lyrics thing? Many a generation has had this discussion prior to our generation.
My little posse and I would sneak cigarettes on the steps of the convent, regaling each other with stories of the older guys we dated-fabricating most of it. We used to roll up our plaid skirts (I still hate plaid) to make them shorter-a little act of defiance.  We thought we were so very cool and worldly. We dissed the

girls who popped their gum loudly, were cheerleaders and listened to The Beach Boys.  We spent a lot of time in the principals office. I miss my mother so; she has passed on-I still remember the look on her face when I brought home the Stones' album "Goats Head Soup."  Or better yet, the "Sticky Fingers" album cover, with the strategically placed zipper.Little things like this take me back to the wonderful and woolly relationship we had. Me, passionately independent and my mother, scared as hell that I would turn out ok. With older teen sons -I now know what she must have felt. I have learned-am still learning, that it is our job to let go. That angst and crappy attitudes manifested in slammed doors and weird haircuts and sketchy lyrics are developmental steps toward separation. This is logical, no? That does not make it hurt any less

I recently saw "Shine a Light"-the Scorsese film of a Stones concert with footage of the early days. Geezer rock? Yeah, if you count the years and lines on their faces. But they are still, and always will be, the bad boys of rock. The friends of my youth may have wanted others, but Mick and the boys were mine. And here I am-still-after numerous concert goings- still following them. From Keith Richards weirdness to the gaggle of kids Mick has fathered, I hope they rock on. I wonder if our sons will have this same discussion when they are older? Funny, though, they like the Stones and Pink Floyd, etc.. they call it "old school rock"-sez who?

Original post to Silicon Valley Moms Blog.