…and getting caught in the rain…. Sure, we all know the words to this
song. It’s catchy, it rhymes, even Jimmy
Buffet has covered it-- But last night
as I was rolling silverware at Hagan’s (super awesome 2nd job where
I get to, get this, talk to lots of
people!), the song came on our music system and I got to really really listen
to the words.
So, let’s summarize in my terms—
This guy is sick of his wife/girlfriend/mistress,
whatever-- While she sleeps beside him,
he’s skulking through the personal ads-
Lo and behold he finds this font of loveliness that just seems to be the
perfect woman on earth. In order to make
this song work, he of course has to write back to the ad with his own pithy
version, where we learn that he can offer McDonald’s fast food and booze at
Noon in the rain-
Now, I could argue that this whole situation is pretty silly.. Honestly, how would you react if you walked
into a bar at noon and found your significant other sitting there awaiting her
illicit tryst amongst the jukebox and sticky bar stools? It just doesn’t seem that he’d say, oh it’s
you.. and then they’d laugh (ha ha ha) and realize that they’ve just been the
right people all along and only needed the newspapers skeezy ads to bring them
back together-- To me, something is inherently wrong with
this relationship that pina coladas, rain and dunes won’t solve. But then again, this was the 70’s (ok, late
70’s but it still counts) where porno mustaches, polyester and astrological
signs were prevalent, so I could be totally off on the point-
But with this, life itself seemed to be a bit
easier (granted I was all of about 6 when this song came out, but I can pretty
much assure you that I had a way more carefree and wild childhood than my
children will have, primarily by virtue of the fact that we know more now, we
fear more now, we might be a bit more savvy now about predators and such, but
boy, my childhood was FREE, and my kids will never feel that same amount of freedom
no matter how hard I try—I mean, I am all for bike helmets and the accoutrements,
but you and I all know that they’ll never heap 4 people on a big wheel while tearing
down a driveway turning off into the brush and pricker bushes, laughing the entire
way)
So now, put this in our time frame, it would never
work. He’d be cruising facebook or
craigslist for babes. He’d find a
picture of his wife/girlfriend/mistresses’ face and/or body parts and they’d
never get to the McDonald’s, booze, noon or rain stage.. game on.. right? Statuses would be changed, internet chatter
would explode, text messages buzzing like mad, pictures untagged and the wagons
of your side versus my side would circle.
Maybe a lifetime movie with Meredith Baxter Birney and Leah Thompson
would be filmed to portray the wrongs committed and how it’s her fault or his
fault (depending on how the filmmaker wishes to go)—I could go on and on..
I love my internet, I love my computer and my ability to
know what is going on with everyone’s lives at all times (I’ll admit it, can
you?), but sometimes I wonder if it might be easier to just go back in time a
bit.. I’ll accept the porno mustaches and astrological signs (I might have to
fight you on the polyester, it just feels nasty), if it means that we’d all be
carefree enough to laugh off blatant spousal infidelity (I am actually truly
kidding on that one) in order to have little carefree and wild fun.
I’ll bring the big wheel, you gather up the people…
