When we were children, we were raised to the sounds of Peter, Paul, and Mary.
Well, some of us were. Others were raised to the musical stylings of Unky Stalin and His Happy Worktime Band, featuring a suspicious number of odes to the joys of beets, blood, and party loyalty.
But we digress.
For some of us were raised to the sounds of Peter, Paul, and Mary: three young hippies strumming and singing about idyllic, peaceful, (probably) pot-filled lives. Songs with life lessons about disappointing dragons, inedible lemons, and hammering as much as possible during a 24-period (actually, maybe we didn't have it much better here in the US of A).
In any case, we remember liking Peter, Paul, and Mary. Sure it was weird and it probably poisoned our minds against right-thinking (pun intended) politics for the rest of our lives. But it had to have been better than the so-called "music" we put our children through today.
And the fact that, despite the New Testament nomenclature, one of their member is Jewish? Well, that's just the apricot in the rugelach. Yeah, maybe it made for a strange childhood (where have all the flowers gone, anyway?), but we'll take it any day over giant purple dinosaurs or good ol' Unky Stalin.