The 500 - #112 - If You Can Believe Your Eyes And Ears - The Mama's And The Papa's

I was inspired by a podcast called The 500 hosted by New York-based comedian Josh Adam Meyers. His goal, and mine, is to explore Rolling Stone Magazine's 2012 edition of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time.

---

Album: #112
Album Title: If You Can Believe Your Eyes And Ears
Artist: The Mama's and The Papa's
Genre: Folk Rock, Pop Rock, Sunshine Pop
Recorded: Western Recording Studios, Los Angeles, California

Released: February, 1966
My age at release: 7 months
How familiar was I with it before this week: A couple of songs
Is it on the 2020 list? No

Song I am putting on my Spotify Playlist: Spanish Harlem

Before we even get to the music, we need to talk about the apostrophe.

Not the fantastic Frank Zappa record from 1974 and not, as my students often protest, whether they can use “it’s” correctly.

"But, Mr. H., if a bone belongs to your dog... why don't you write 'It's bone'?"

Because  the dog prefers its bones without an apostrophe.

Seriously, I’m talking about decorative apostrophes; rogue apostrophes; apostrophes that seem to have been sprinkled on a page as if delivered by a pepper shaker. The ones that are just there, doing nothing, contributing nothing except, perhaps, silently daring English aficionados to notice. Such is the case with the album jacket for the debut record from "The Mama’s and the Papa’s"; If You Can Believe Your Eyes And Ears.

Alternative album cover for the group's debut record.
(l-r) Cass Elliot, Denny Doherty, John Phillips and Michelle Phillips.

Now, I want to be very clear: I know it is not wise, kind, or good etiquette to point out other people’s bad grammar. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I am reminded of the Quentin Crisp quote (and later Sting lyric), “It takes a man to suffer ignorance and smile.”

Fair enough, it takes a gentleman to smile politely in the face of ignorance, but it requires an English teacher to whisper: “You don’t need that apostrophe.”

Of course, that Crisp quote is a little pompous, too, isn’t it? The idea that noticing something, quietly judging it and then making sure people know that you could have commented, but chose not to because you are a gentleman is a tad arrogant.

Book cover for Crisp's autobiography.

Now, I am someone who deeply believes grammar matters, not just because it makes us smarter, but because it helps us understand each other. It is also my job to help students improve their writing, and that includes correcting their grammar in a slow, methodical way. One can not bombard a 12-year-old with every grammar rule. Instead, we work our way through rules throughout the year and add them to a growing checklist we use to proofread our work.

The checklist my students are currently using.

The Mamas and Papas album cover provides me with a wonderful teaching opportunity. I plan to show it to my students during an upcoming grammar lesson and ask them if they can spot the editing mistake. Showing students real‑world grammar errors is a powerful way to make learning feel tangible and relevant. However, it once (almost) backfired on me.

I was walking home from the YMCA in downtown London when I noticed that a new pizza shop had opened. The sign read “Pizza Round’s”...with a superfluous apostrophe. I snapped a photo with my phone, fully intending to use it in a future Grade 4 writing lesson.

Pizza Round's restaurant sign, with additional apostrophe.

A few days later, a lovely, sweet and kind student in my class asked if she could hand out coupons to the class from her parents’ new restaurant which was, as you've probably already guessed, the aforementioned “Pizza Round’s”. Needless to say, that "teachable moment" was shelved, permanently.

Which brings us to The Mamas & the Papas, a band whose debut album contains some of the most glorious vocal harmonies of the 1960s, and whose name would eventually be spelled without apostrophes. Interestingly, however, it wasn’t a grammar error that prompted the album’s reprinting in 1966.

It was the toilet.

That spring, records were quietly pulled from store shelves when the original cover, featuring the band posed in a bathtub, with a toilet clearly visible in the corner, was deemed indecent. As a result, original pressings of the album became instant collector’s items, with some copies later fetching as much as $300 at auction. Subsequent releases featured a strategically placed white rectangle listing the album’s hit singles -- Monday, Monday and California Dreamin’ -- carefully obliterating the offending facility.

Alternate cover, showing members  (l-r) Denny Doherty, Cass Elliot, 
John Phillips and Michelle Phillips. 

Once I got past the grammar error, I settled in to listen to a beautifully crafted record and one that is easy and pleasant to listen to. The quartet's harmonies are spectacular and I most enjoyed the track Spanish Harlem, which was originally recorded by soul legend Ben E. King.

Lyric from Spanish Harlem.

In the hands of The Mamas and the Papas, the melody, much like the rose in the song’s lyrics. unfolds slowly and patiently. Elliot’s voice enters not to dominate, but to deepen. It’s a song about noticing beauty where you least expect it, and that feels like a far better use of my attention than searching for grammatical missteps.

(Mama) Cass Elliot.

Speaking of which, I’ll finish this post here and send it off to my father, who edits my work weekly. I trust that if any rogue apostrophes have slipped through, he’ll find them and fix them, with a gentlemanly smile. Maybe I should put one in just for fun.