I know I am a little late to the conversation about Miley. But for me, it took a few weeks to process and really comprehend the gift she has given us. And by "us," I mean mothers of a certain age who have impressionable children that need to understand how this incident relates to them in a meaningful way.
My journey to this point was not unlike many of yours. I did not watch the VMA's live -- and it's a good thing, given the indecency that went on. My husband and I protected ourselves by binge-watching "Orange is the New Black" that evening. And yes, I know that the show is as raunchy, if not more, than Miley and Gaga's artistic interpretations. But "Orange" is FICTION... well, it's FICTION BASED ON REAL LIFE.... well, there is a script that the actors are forced to adhere to... so it doesn't count! My point is that I didn't care much about the VMAs until I caught wind of a scandal the next morning.
Facebook, we have a problem.
After the third or fourth mom "friend" of mine posted some condemnation about Miley's performance, I linked over to the video to see what all the fuss was about. And like many of my peers, I was more than a little grossed out -- not so much because of the twerking or the foam finger. I was really disturbed by Miley's tongue. Maybe it was the resolution on my browser, but it just didn't look healthy to me -- all colorless and gray. Leave it to the Jewish mother to worry about this girl's health -- but did anyone else think that we should be more concerned about Miley's camel tongue than her camel toe? Dehydration? Thrush? Dr. Oz? Dr. Phil? Anyone?
Apparently not.
Not to be deterred by the legion of slut-shamers and lack of like-minded worriers, I knew I would have to search deeper to find the real silver lining in Miley's performance. Surely, there was a life lesson embedded in the drama beyond the obvious. Something was most definitely being overlooked. But what?
You can't force these epiphanies, so I continued on with my life without any expectations of enlightenment. I hung out with my family; I worked; I surfed the Internet, where I still couldn't get away from Miss Miley even a full week after the brouhaha. During one of these surfing sessions, I watched a polished, blonde female news anchor in a tailored skirt try to twerk. I'm sure she thought the attempt would bring her closer to the common man and more appealing to the masses. But in reality, it re-enforced the premise that there are certain things woman of a certain age should never do. Never ever.
And there, my friends, was the silver lining.
My next stop on the Internet was finding this instructional video, which was super helpful. Watch -- you'll see.
WATCH: How to Twerk
After a few sessions and only a few sciatic intermissions, I was able to twerk with the best of them. I still need to work on my velocity, but I think my form is proficient.
At the dinner table that evening, I unwrapped the gift that Miley gave us by announcing to my two teenage sons that I had learned how to twerk. The reaction was immediate, strong and predictable.
Them: "NO MOM! Just NO!!!!"
Me: "No what? No, you don't believe I can do it? Or no, I shouldn't do it?"
Them: "BOTH!!!"
Me: "Oh. Ok."
I remained silent on the topic until the next night, when the subject of homework completion came up. The boys are notorious procrastinators which makes me a notorious nag. But somehow, I think this year is going to be different....
"Not ready to get started on math yet, guys? No problem. I'm just going to practice my twerking here until you need it to be quiet. Honey, can you turn on a little Beyonce for me?"
A threat I can finally make good on... a gift that keeps on giving.
Homework complete in record time. Thank you Miley.
