Back when I was young and churchy, I used to sing in the Ste-Anne’s choir. Occasionally, our choir mistress Theresa would give me a tiny solo. One time it was a hymn dedicated to Psalms 113:9. I warbled, “Once the barren wife, now abides in her home as the happy mother of sons! Hallelujah!” I’m mortified about my role in promulgating that woman’s-fault-boys-are-best garbage-speak. And it makes me think about the catchy but toxic tunes I sang as a young guitarzan: Summerbreeze. That’s Alright Mama. Delilah. It Must be Him. My Sharona. Don’t even get me started on Mungo Jerry.
Inspired by Deadline Comeuppance. Photo of Debbie Reynolds as Sister Ann, from The Singing Nun (1966).
Garbage-speak, indeed.
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