When I was 11, my Dad took me and Grandma Dorcas to Luray Caverns in Virginia, and while we were there, My Dad claims Grandma Dorcas sang "Walk On The Wild Side" while bumbling the tune on the organ there. It's ironic because the woman couldn't carry a tune in a bucket if she tried, nor could she tell the difference between an instrument that was in tune and one that was out of tune. Even worse, she couldn't keep time with the rhythm of a song, as she was always a few steps behind time or even a few steps ahead of time. To make matters worse, he claims that I, along with my sister Amber and my cousins Andrea and Carolyn sang background vocals with her. My Dad was the biggest fibberooski I've ever met. But you've gotta admit he was a nice guy! My Grandma, on the other hand, wasn't so sweet. Sure, people said she was sweet on the outside, but I knew deep down she was the opposite. When she sang, it was torture! And, the spankings, oh the spankings! Spankings and soap were all she knew when it came to discipline. She was a devout Presbyterian, and she wasn't playing when she said we couldn't say any profanity. She even fooled me into believing that "ain't" is considered profanity. She was a grammarian pedant, which I strongly despise. I made a vow that when I have children and grandchildren, I will never subject them to the horrible monster that is my Grandma.