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Will the real Burlesque please stand up?

05 Jul Posted by in Motivational Speaker | Comments

Today I’m not coming to you as your never ending fount of wisdom motivational speaker, but as your wacky friend who has to tell you the funny thing that happened the other day, since my husband is apparently tired of my incessant rambling. I’ll tell you instead. I know you’ll listen. You’re here aren’t you?

Anyway…My mother is somewhat technology challenged, limiting her use to answering her email which lends itself to many issues of its own. And, yes, this is the same mother who when told she had to answer the security question on her ipad, asked how they will know if she gives them the right answer.

So Mom hands me a new MP3 player, excited that she has actually purchased something technological. (I didn’t tell her how many leaps we have made since the MP3 player. She was just so darn excited - who am I to spoil her joy? My college years already let her down enough for a lifetime. Not to mention my parenting skills – but we won’t go there.)

“I want this to play music,” she announces, handing me the MP3 player and waiting expectantly.

“What music do you want it to play?” I asked.

“Just something I can walk to. I was thinking Burlesque. I loved that movie,” she replies. (Which is an understatement, considering she has seen it fourteen times.)

“Okay, I think I can find a way to get it on here. Where’s the music?” I asked.

“I thought you had it,” she said.

“I don’t have it, Mom. You have to buy it,” I replied. She looked shocked – the same look she gave me when I told her I served my family brownies for dinner.

“Buy it? I don’t way to pay for the music!” she exclaimed, “Isn’t it supposed to be free?”

“No, Mom, that’s YouTube. Youtube is free. And that’s on the computer. And those are videos. If you want songs on this mp3 player, you have to buy them.”

“Well just put youtube on there,” she says, rolling her eyes like she does when she questions how her eggs could have turned out someone like me.

“I can’t put YouTube on your Mp3 player. It doesn’t work that way. Those are videos. This is an mp3 player. It just plays songs.”

“I spent enough on the Mp3 player,” she replies in disgust. “I’m certainly not going to give them any more of my money.” (I failed to point out that her not using the new mp3 player was also wasteful – but there are just some things you learn after being my mother’s daughter for over forty-four years. Like not to call after 4pm, but I digress.)

“Okay, I’ll do it,” I told my mother. “Just give me some time to put it on here. Go have another glass of wine.” Four glasses (but who’s counting?)  of wine later, and I’m still sitting there trying to figure out how to get songs on an MP3 player. I didn’t tell my mother that I actually purchased Burlesque for her myself with my iTunes account, and was in the process of reading a tutorial on how to convert an MP4 file into an Mp3 and then get it on an MP3 player whose directions were so small I had to use three magnifying glasses to read them, and it took an extra hour to figure out they were upside down, and I was reading the Spanish version. At this point my mother is starting to feel really bad that I’m going to all this trouble, because she has that southern woman gene that causes her great angst to have someone else do something for her – the same gene that says her whole world could be falling apart, but it’s okay as long as her purse matches her shoes.

“I feel bad you’re going to all this trouble,” she says for the hundredth time, spilling wine on the directions.

“It’s okay, Mom, I’m happy to do it. Just give me another minute.”

“I never would have asked you, if I thought it was going to take so long.”

“No worries, Mom, I do this all the time.” (Little white lie never killed anyone.)

finally get the songs uploaded, test the first one to make sure it works, and then explain to my mother how to hit “play” and “stop” – and to ignore all those other little buttons, while she jumps up and down excitedly and goes to run and tell Dad what a genius I am. Don’t worry, he doesn’t believe her.

Mom did all this, by the way, so she could listen to the MP3 player while she walked on the beach every morning of her vacation, instead of carrying around her CD player like she did last year. Yes, she actually walked on the beach holding a CD player with headphones. We’re not proud. So now she thinks she’s super cool that she can put this tiny little MP3 player in her pocket and jam out with Cher and Christine Agulera – or however you spell her name. I’ll spend three hours programming her MP3, but I’m not going to take thirty seconds to look up how to spell Christine’s last name for this blog post.

I thought it was odd that I never saw her using it. I thought it was odd that she never mentioned it to me. Not once. But I didn’t bring it up – worried that she would then bring me Michael Jackson’s Greatest Hits, and we’d be off again on another vicious cycle. I didn’t think about it again, until I decided to play the songs while I worked out a week later back at my own gym. As soon as I hit play, I was confused. Wait a minute….this song wasn’t in the movie. This isn’t Burlesque. But the title says Burlesque! What else could it be?  Let me tell you, there are many other things it could be, and none of them good. Let’s just suffice it to say that I had downloaded musical porn on my mother’s MP3 player.  And being the gracious southern belle that she is, she never once said a word. But I must admit, she’s walking around with a little bit more color to her cheeks.

As am I.

Lesson? When you’re downloading music for your mother with a name like “Burlesque” — be sure it’s what you intended to download. Or you’ll be turning thirty shades of embarassed. You’d think I would have learned that lesson after ordering my granny a personal massager from the Brookstone catalog. Who knew?

This is your wacky motivational speaker, signing off. Until the next funny thing happens. Which, knowing me, won’t be long.

 

 

 

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