“I had a taste of the real world when I went down on you, girl…When I pluck your body like a string, when I start dancing inside you. Oh baby, you make me wanna sing” Jefferson Starship, Miracles
When I was growing up, my mother was an accountant in an Engineering Office. I usually spent a large chunk of my summers hiding in their offices, drawing pictures of Batman on scraps of blueprints lying around, listening to the Lite radio station that was pumped into the entire office. It is no exaggeration to say that I heard this song at least 4 times a week. And now that I know what the lyrics are, every childhood memory I have is tainted. What is plucking a body like a string? Is that ripping out all of your body hair? Or like a really vigorous fingering? Because I am pretty sure I don’t want to picture any of those things. And I especially do not want to picture any of the middle-aged engineers my mom worked with doing that to each other.
The worst part is obviously tasting the real world. Jefferson Starship had Grace Slick in its lineup. Any song that combines her with the thought of cunnilingus is already evil. But the thought that eating Grace Slick out would suddenly make you see the world with new eyes rings somewhat true to me. Because if I ever came face-to-vagine with her, I would assume I would have to invent a whole new life because I would trash everything that came before. Because everything that brought me to that moment was wrong. I could never look at friends or family in the same way again without a sense of overwhelming and all consuming shame and sadness.