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Showing posts with label Loudon Wainwright III. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Loudon Wainwright III. Show all posts

Sunday, June 8, 2008

The Goblet, The Girl and the Street Sign, Part 1

This silver Goblet was procured from a Bob’s Big Boy restaurant in Van Nuys CA. I confess I am a questionable accomplice in its procurement. We were sitting in a comfy booth eating our meal when I simply mentioned to a friend I would like to have one of these goblets. We finished our meal, left a tip and walked out to our car. When we got into the vehicle my female friend reached into her purse and handed me the shiny silver Bob’s Big Boy goblet. We all laughed and hurried out of there just in case some eagled eyed waitress was on our tail. I was flabbergasted but I took it home and put it up on my memento shelf hoping my Mom would not ask where it came from. Accepting stolen goods is certainly a misdemeanor crime, however if a judge or God one day confronts me with my involvement I will throw myself on the mercy of whatever court and tell them it was given to me by the most beautiful brown haired brown eyed girl I had ever known. I won't claim insanity but I will tell you I was intoxicated by her smile.

This beautiful young girl and I did eventually go out on a date some time later. We had a nice time, but I am afraid I was so painfully shy that I never mustered the courage to ask her out again. We remained friends in spite of my ineptness. I have a fine memory of driving away from her place to Van Nuys Masonic Temple for our date. The radio was on blasting the hits of that period of 1973. So what song you ask plays in my mind now when I remember our date? My Love by Paul McCartney? Or maybe Love Train by The O’Jays? No, I recall rolling down Victory Blvd. to the sounds of Loudon Wainwright III squawking, “Dead Skunk in the Middle of the Road”.

Not long after this I bought a top of the line Sanyo cassette player for my car. Never again would I allow the radio God's impose their will on my love life. In matters of the heart one still needs the proper tools. So now when my diet allows I break out the goblet and drop a scoop of ice cream in it, crank up iTunes and remember good times with a beautiful young girl, and a stinky old skunk.