MY FW: Runway Music

It is a well known fact, mostly among my oldest and dearest friends,  that I'm a klutz. My mother has warned me that I burned through nine lives many years ago. Sgt. Murphy told me I could fuck up an anvil with a rotten banana. I also have the attention span of a wire fox terrier on a triple espresso. And I love to dance. Usually by myself. Listening to a you tube video on a iPhone while dancing and walking down stairs is probably not a good idea... for anybody -- much less a klutz with a short attention span who is over 50 years old.

I'll spare you the details -- Anyway, while the drugs are outstanding, I'm unable to sit for more than 20 minutes but am looking forward to working with my physical therapist Eileen -- who told me I could always remember her name thanks to that song in the '80s. Posts for the next couple weeks will be short bursts with a patina of prescribed pain medication.

Here's a burst of what I was listening to when I took the spill. It's impossible to find a CD from the Doris Days, a little Swedish trio from the '90s, but when I listen to Jumbo Jet on You Tube, I know it would make for incredible runway music. Bouncy & catchy as all get out and amazingly obscure... I'm betting only two people in Williamsburg ever heard of 'em. But you can...so unbuckle your double monks, make yourself a Rye Manhattan and just try not to dance by yourself on the stairs.

Those Other Fathers

Tell me were you ever ever frightened
in the afternoons of life
Sitting in your home with closing eyelids
being someones else's wife
One who doesn't care 'bout you at all
only came when his hormones called
He'll never love you the way I do

You used to write me soft revealing letters
I always read them when they came
We stood beside the world in many matters
no one but ourselves where there to blame
And now in a meek but sudden mood swing
not even a thank you for everything
He'll never eat you the way I did

I think the world will always need the cryer
Lonely people seldom mend
Some remain strangers to themselves
still they cross the earth for a friend
If you think you cannot love me till the end of time
with a life not far from mine
No one knows you the way I do

Doris Days, The Cryer