Cleaning out my closet

Perhaps you have heard of a very common secular psychological practice in counseling called "Talk Therapy". Talk therapy is simply talking about what is bothering you. Talk therapy can be practiced with a friend or loved one, a family member, or a therapist. The "experts" tell us that talk therapy doesn’t have to be difficult. The simple act of discussing your feelings allows you to gain new insight and perspective. Talk therapy can also help to enrich your life by bringing the people that you love closer to you. I would think most Christians could see the pitfalls of such a practice as it would be hard not falling in to sins of the tongue while engaging in Talk Therapy, but nevertheless, I cannot resist, there's something I have to get off my chest concerning a horrific exposure my normally loving and faithful parents were guilty of. Mom and Dad, I only hope the statute of limitations are up for you!

The above clip shows what my dear parents exposed me to for close to 4 years on Saturday or Sunday nights (trying to pinpoint which regular week night we were exposed to this is traumatic in and of itself). What you see is a clip of the Sha-na-na television program that aired from 1977-81. Sha-na-na the group, has existed since 1969, in fact, they still perform today, only with different band members. They are sort of like the Harlem Globetrotters, an institution that goes on despite constantly changing members. The performers you see here are exactly the ones vividly etched in to my memory, no doubt never to be erased due to the impressionability of my young mind between the ages of 6 and 10 when my parents scarred me so. Where's that Men in Black memory-erasing flash thing when you need it?

Each week we would gather as a family and watch the three dudes in the hideously tight, shiny gold pants with the open shirt and greased hair, croon out all sorts of old cheesey 50's song. The fact that I thought "Bowzer" (the bass singing, muscle-shirt wearing, short black pants sporting dude) was cool, tells you how warped watching the show over an extended period of time made me. Mom, Dad, how could you?

O.K., so I've talked this out a bit. I've revealed one of the shaping influences of my formative years to you, hopefully you can understand me better. Isn't that what Talk Therapy is really about? Getting something of my chest and expecting you to deal with it? Phew....I do feel better.