“Now I’ll never dance with another, since I saw her standing there.”
That’s one scenario. Here’s another:
“I’m tryin' to make some girl, who tells me
baby, better come back maybe next week.
Can't you see I'm on a losing streak."
In 1963, we got divided. Clueless baby boomer guys, turning teen, chose one popsong fantasy or the other:
The steady girlfriend or the one night stand.
John, Paul, George and Ringo offered a dream about finding true love, fidelity and a life-mate at a dance event.
On the other end, the Stones offered a chronic complaint about the frustrations of trying to score a one-night-stand.
Very early on, I made my choice.
Perhaps that’s one reason why I’ve been married to the same woman for 42 years. Thank God for that.
But that’s the fast-forward. Let’s run the tape back to 1963.
There I am, twelve years old, laying in bed in my dark bedroom, my ear tuned to the transistor radio. Suddenly I am hearing a sound that I had never heard before:
“Well, she was seventeen; you know what I mean . . .”
Later, in 1979, when I met my life-mate, that fantasy was fulfilled:
Now I’ll never whoopee with another, since I saw her standing there. 42 years and counting. It's been a great ride. We got a ticket to ride in 1979. There's a lot to be said for true love and fidelity. What I've said here is, metaphorically, but one sand grain on the beaches of marital bliss.
As for the the other baby boomers . . . oh, there were many who took the Stones’ path of wandering around this non-virtual world looking for one-night stands or instant gratification or tooktic fantasies. Good luck with that, guys. May you find the satisfaction that you and Mik were looking for.
And (as Johnny Carson used to say) “May the bird of paradise fly up your nose.”
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