The other night I had a rare opportunity to watch the evening news on television and finally someone with legal authority has put a label on Barney music that I totally agree with. Barney music is “punishment” music.

A very heartless judge has sentenced juvenile offenders to the cruel and unusual punishment of having to spend an hour a day at the courthouse listening to music, that includes Barney’s top hits.  These traumatized junior criminals were interviewed and said that Barney had changed their life. They vowed never to commit another crime for fear that a stiffer sentence might be imposed…like having to listen to two hours of Barney music daily. 

I know full well that loud pediatric music can cause mental anxiety and border on being viewed as torture.  I wonder how the ACLU would feel about my case as I am forced against my will to listen to this music for eight or more hours a day.   Some may argue that small children love Barney.  This is true…because he is the dinosaur deliverer of parental wrath until they are old enough to talk.  Once your spawnling gets around four or five years old, they are no longer interested or need Barney, because their vocabulary has advanced to the level that they can torture you independently without the aid of a “purple singing terror.” 

Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms agents could learn some tactics from this judge’s actions.   In the past they have used loud rock and roll music to lure suspected criminals out of their hide-away.  This has not been very effective.  They should play Barney music.  I guarantee that the adults, who have not been de-sensitized through listening to Barney with their own spawnlings, would be able to tolerate no more than 23 minutes of this music. If there were spawnlings inside, they would stampede the remaining adults to get outside and see if the real three-toed tenor is outside waiting to play make-believe. 

Upon awaking in the morning I hear this music and place my hands over my ears, while pleading that they will “Make it stop.”  My spawnlings can barely scribble numbers, they cannot read, yet they are able to use of the remote control to find all 4-cable channels showing Barney.   And unless I am mistaken I believe what they innocently refer to as their garden looks suspiciously like a trench. I believe this is their first step toward installation of a digital satellite system so they can also view the West Coast feeds of Barney.

One might think that I am over stating the effects of Barney on the adult nervous system, but I believe that I am a victim of subtle mind control through watching this show.  What follows is a transcript of a recorded telephone conversation that I had with my husband the other evening.

Real Dad: Hi Sweetie, How are you?
Real Mom: I’m Shimbaree…Shimbaraa.  Did you know that Barney is a dinosaur from our imagination?
Real Dad: Have you been watching Barney again?
Real Mom: No…not really, but the kids have.  You know I’ve been thinking about riding in an airplane, looking out the windows and watching the clouds go by.   High up in an airplane, looking out the windows and watching the clouds go by.
Real Dad: I’m worried about you.  Are you thinking about going on a flight?
Real Mom: No…I just can’t stop thinking about …What I want to be…What I want to be…When I grow up to be, be be.  I want to be a flight attendant.
Real Dad: Well, who would take care of the kids?
Real Mom: There’s this man named John who could watch them.
Real Dad: John?  John who?
Real Mom:  John Jacob Jinglehimer Schmidt.  His name is my name too.   Whenever I go out, I love to sing and shout…there goes John Jacob Jinglehimer Schmidt.
Real Dad: I don’t think this is such a good idea.
Real Mom: Can you hold on a minute…I want to look out the window…I think there’s a Kookaburra sitting in an old gum tree.  Laugh Kookaburra, Laugh Kooka burra…save gum for me.
Real Dad: I don’t believe I’ve ever seen a kookaburra or a gum tree in our yard.
Real Mom: Yea right…stop kidding me. Next you’re going to try and tell me that you never saw a camel, named Sally, with five humps.
Real Dad: Can I talk to one of our children?
Real Mom: No they are asleep.  And I was just about to go to bed with my Teddy.  Me and my Teddy… Getting all ready…Getting all ready for bed.
Real Dad: Listen carefully to me and follow my instructions.  Wake one of our children up and tell them that Daddy said to turn Barney off.
Real Mom: Why are you so worried?  I love you.  You love me.  We’re a happy family.  I’m sending a great big hug and a kiss from me to you.  Please tell me you love me too. 

I love my spawnlings, Real Dad, and Barney.