When I was a kid, my parents were fans of Emmylou Harris. You may remember her from such hits as “Queen of the Silver Dollar.”
I probably haven’t heard it in 25 years. But I could recite the lyrics from memory.
“She’s the queen of the silver dollar/She rules a smokey kingdom,
Her scepter is a wine glass/ And a bar stool is her throne,
And the jesters flock around her/Trying to win her favor,
To see which one will take the queen of the Silver Dollar home.”
I don’t think I was even ten before I knew all the words to a song about an alcoholic in a dive bar waiting to see which guy would pick her up.
And I don’t even remember my parents or aunts or uncles giving any sign that this might be even slightly inappropriate for me or my brothers. I mean, I understood that the words weren’t describing anything in literal reality. But I had in my head a sort of Gaiman-esque surreality, where things were whimsical or romanticized, but still had a reality to them. It never occurred to me until I was into adulthood that the entire song was just a clever description of drunk hook ups at bar close.
It’s odd. Usually, I find kids – especially my kid – to be much sharper than anyone gives them credit for. But then you come across things like this song that go totally over their heads. Or mine at least.
All this is really in service of my wondering whether or not I could watch Game of Thrones in front of the Little Man.
I’ll probably still wait till after his bedtime.