the other day neal was at the mall, returning something that didn't fit the tallest kid who lives here with us. he wasn't sure how to preface his story at first ... does he call the person who helped him a girl or a lady? he said he was pretty sure she was "my" age (which is a slightly different age than his)
i think he was scared for a minute, wondering what my response might be
i gave him the stare then suggested he go with "girl"
as it turns out, she asked him about one of his tattoos, which, according to him, never happens. see, i get asked about mine all.the.time. but that is likely because i'm a GIRL (just to clarify) and i think girls are generally easier to approach, as strangers. also because i have been told on that part of my half sleeve resembles either a beard ... ok, wow ... an alien (that was funny, margie) or a monster of some kind ... because that is exactly my style.
in any case, he told her that it's a technical design of the original blueprint for a 45 record insert. it is very cool if i do say so myself, but i get what he was saying. unless you are of a certain age bracket (or have very hip parents who have a record player and play 45's now and again for both amusement and to educate your children) you wouldn't have the slightest clue what a 45 was, let alone an insert.
it reminds me of the time neal was talking to one of his co-workers about the dukes of hazzard and she said i think you are wrong. i'm going to go home tonight and watch the movie so i can prove it on monday.
i am getting older
well, it got us talking about old records, cause the "girl" at the store told neal that the first 45 she ever bought was embarrassing ... the tide is high, by blondie. neal was pretty sure his was by t-pau. (and most likely cause she is a red head). it only took me a second to recall mine, including the day i bought it.
i remember watching american bandstand every saturday with my brother. sometimes we even watched soul train. i'm pretty sure we hopped on our bikes when it was over and rode to good old elgin mall where, at dr. disc, i handed over my hard-earned babysitting moolah for this:
and, now, i so wish i had been as cool as the girl at bluenotes.
and if i look half as good as debbie harry does now, when i'm her age, i don't care what you call me.