When will I learn. I mean, how much effort does it take to tuck a 4 ounce camera in your pocket?
But n-o-o-o-o-o! Time and again, I come upon an snap-shot worthy happening, and feel like hitting myself in the head a la You could have had a V8 .
This doesn’t happen most of the time since my camera lives in my shoulder bag and nine times out of ten, the bag is slung over my shoulder. It’s that one time out of ten that trips me up, like that lunch time walk I took through the office park where I work, when I came upon a pink Cadillac parked in the parking lot three buildings down. I mean, how many times do you see an honest to goodness early sixties behemoth with garish tail fins, and two-toned to boot? Pink with a white roof! It was just like Bruce Springsteen and Natalie Cole sang about so I walked over and looked in the back seat – but neither one was having “a party in the back of the pink Cadillac.”
Then there was last Wednesday. If only I’d thrown the camera into my backpack before I headed out for the gym, I could have grabbed a shot of the Kentucky Fried Chicken employee on her dinner break, heading straight across the parking lot, in full uniform, visor and all, making a bee line from KFC to the Chinese take-out next to the gym.
But don’t worry, you know I always have a picture or two for my posts.
While watching my daily dose of the Today show last week, I had time to grab my camera and get proof that Savannah Guthrie’s dress is directly related to my makeshift laptop bag
And their distant cousin
My shower curtain
I was driving south through Florida last month, surfing the radio stations and came upon a station that covered the widest range of classic rock I’ve ever heard. However, their catch phrase, “we play the songs you know every word to.” is a bold-faced lie. Are they denying the fact that most singers are graduates of The Bob Dylan School of Diction?
Singers like Mick Jagger, Tom Petty, and Stevie Nicks. Nobody knows every word of a rock song. How can you know what you can’t understand?
The station is very fortunate that I cannot recall their call letters because if I did I just might have reported them to the FCC. Why? Because it’s dangerous to propagate false confidence. When you’re sure you know the words of a song you have no hesitation singing aloud. And that just might lead to a rude awakening.
Take Jack S, a guy I knew at the Jersey Shore. It was 1969 and he had heard this great song by the Beatles.
He just had to sing it for everyone, “Hey Dude!”
And then there was Mrs. S, the mother of a friend and no relation to Jack S. It was 1974 and Disco was in full swing.
She loved to sing the anthem of the dance floor, “Do the Hot Dog.”
Speaking of disco, Eddie, the Best man at my wedding, couldn’t understand the story behind one of the songs from Saturday Night Fever. There’s John Travolta dancing under the disco ball with his sometimes dance partner, a woman with a full head of disco hair.
So why he wanted to know, were the Bee Gees singing
“Bald -headed woman, Bald-headed woman to me.”
And since people in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones, I’ll fess up. I recently heard my favorite Bruce Springsteen song, Born to Run, delivered directly into my head via an iPod I was on the tread mill, lip synching along until Bruce and we came to the part where we’re exhorting Wendy to come with him, flee New Jersey, start a new life and I nearly came to a halt. What? What was he saying? Tramps? “Tramps like us, Baby we were born to run.” You mean it’s not champs? Champs are born to run, not tramps!
Maybe I’ll write my own song, about the dude who meets a bald headed lady and they dance the hot dog and when they’re through, they jump on a freight car with all the other champs who were born to run, and they’ll all be wearing their gold medals and blue ribbons.
OK, it’s your turn. What songs did you think you knew? Use the comment section to share. Nobody will laugh, I promise.