Why hits from the 70s are playing on my car radio that day and not NPR is a total mystery. Since I recently told a miracle story on a Los Angeles stage, the 1975 soulish disco tune You Sexy Thing by Hot Chocolate strikes a chord.
As I was leaving for a meeting my dog Barney (wearing only a rabies tag) slipped through the front door. My neighbor and I watched as he bounded for an alley leading to Markham Street, one of Little Rock’s busiest. Since it was rush hour, I feared it meant certain death for my baby.
It’s a long story (watch for it…), but when I returned home Barney was in my backyard. “I believe in miracles…”
Confession time. I don’t have an X song on my iPhone. In fact, the only song beginning with X that came to mind was Xanadu. ‘Nuff said.
I didn’t spend much time looking, but if I had to buy an X song it might be XOXOX by The Blackeyed Peas. I am a sucker for rhyme. I own multiple rhyming dictionaries. Nothing drives rhyme home like XOXOXO from “the get go. Don’t you go saying, ‘No no no.’ Hop in and get with the flow show.”
Okay, this stuff is way outta my league. Still, I gotta admire folks able to incorporate multiple product placement (Lego, Pepto, and Eggo) into one song.
Less shocks me at 62 than at 52, 42, 32, 22, or 12. A picture shows sheer amazement on my face the Christmas I was nearly 2.
By now I have experienced the full spectrum from violent rudeness meant to wound to kind empathy that heals like a soothing salve. On Science Friday, April 4, 2014, Steven Pinker, Richard Wrangham and Harold Schechter examined violence today and in light of gender. This was insightful as I had been stung with words by both sexes with a 24-hour period.
Okay, I admit it was informative to find my skill of dodging poop bombs falling from something flying overhead, though rusty, is still intact. Still, I prefer to spend my time with folks who think I am, in the words of Eric Clapton, Wonderful Tonight.