Besides being beautifully unpredictable, Beyonce’s “Countdown” challenges our reflection. She’s released music concerning gender issues before: some covert (“Single Ladies”), some overt (“If I Were A Boy” is essentially a syllabus for an intro sociology class), but all with much food for thought.

Countdown is a bit on the subtle side. Beyonce sings about being in the kitchen making dinner. About riding passenger side in her boo’s coupe. And yes, sings about grindin’ and further stuff of that nature. Very stereotypically female, and some who tend to root for females as a whole (such as the writer) would be inclined to regard such embedded roles (food cooking, passenger-seat riding, and being the foreperson in the whole “grinding” business) as potentially harmful to the female cause.

But listen to her. She’s ecstatic. I didn’t know anyone over the age of sixteen could radiate such pure, uncynical joy. And all this near-delirium is from the joy of… domestic life? Of supporting her man as he supports her? Of cooking? Of riding passenger-side, instead of driving the car?

Hm.