Just as print and television are more relaxed in what they reveal of humanity, the same holds true for radio. Songs that we would never hear on the radio in America, or words within songs that get bleeped out to be allowed air time, enjoy lots of unadulterated exposure in Germany.
We Americans know the repercussions of censorship for the sake of “simple decency”. The Janet Jackson thing last year is a prime example. But what happens in a culture where people are far more relaxed about what is seen and heard in the media?
We hear one song on the radio with amazing frequency. It contains the words “asscrack” once in the lyrics. I never paid much attention to the song itself, except when those words seem to jump out of the music. I’ve laughed at it, my husband has laughed at it, and so has my son. It’s become a family joke as I try to stop my five-year-old from repeating it.
My husband, the German, finds it amusing. In a way, I do too. They’re just words, for Pete’s sake. But that Puritan in my upbringing says, “Hey, he’s five. He shouldn’t say those things.” So, I dutifully correct him. Over and over again.
A few weeks ago, my son finally asked me what asscrack means. “Well,” I began. “You know the middle part of your butt?”
“The line?”
“Yes, the line. That’s your asscrack. Buttcrack is nicer to say, but I don’t like you saying those things at all. It’s not nice. Please don’t say them.”
“Okay, Mommy,” he promised, and kissed me on the cheek.
Saturday evening, after a busy afternoon of mowing and raking the yard, I popped my little boy into the shower. I poured some shower gel into his hands and he began sudsing up. After pouring soap into my own hands, I said, “Okay, come here so I can wash your hair.”
“Wait,” said my sweet angel with the complete seriousness of the innocent, “I have to wash my asscrack, first.”
