Thoughts at large: Everyone who has a class reunion for a class before 1970 should be required to have two things; name tags with large block letters and a yearbook, so we can have that no shit moment … that moment when we read one of those name tags and run to the yearbook and say … NO SHIT!! In spite of the incantations of Rick Derringer and the McCoys, I never knew a girl named Sloopy. Question for Buffalo Springfield … what was that sound? When Paul McCartney saw her standing there, wasn’t he concerned about the legal ramifications of her only being 17? Despite the advice of the Beach Boys, if one really wanted to sit on top of the world, rather than Catch a Wave, wouldn’t it be better to hook up with Sir Edmund Hillary? To Leslie Gore: You’re right, I don’t own you, but I hold the first mortgage so shut up! Tonight at the latest edition of the summer of class reunions, I met a woman who used to work with my (2nd) ex-wife. She said she was amazed that we were married for seven years. After pondering that for a moment, I thought, Jesus, why didn’t I think of that seven years ago? With all due respect to the Crystals and Phil Spector, Da Do Run, Run sounds like a condition that may require Pepto Bismol … Was Love Potion Number 9 a controlled substance? And, last but not least, … am I out of control
Posted on: Sat, 17 Aug 2013 05:09:14 +0000
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