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river rat: I was there.
Oh, what a night.
Late December back in '63.
What a very special time for me,
'Cause I remember what a night.
There were already seven children in our house. I came in through the front door on a night when the power flickered out, riding the last of the warm air up the stairs to the bedroom where my future parents slept.
Oh, what a night.
You know, I didn't even know her name,
But I was never gonna be the same.
What a lady. What a night.
Martha. Her name was Martha and I picked her out of all the millions of women in the world. His name was Herb. I picked him, too, even though some souls believed at the time I could have picked better. You take what you get, yes, but I scored pretty rich, and besides, he came with the Martha package.
Oh, I. I got a funny feeling when she walked
In the room and I,
As I recall it ended much too soon.
Now, this part, I have to tell you all, is a bold, flat out, motherfuckin' lie. Anyone ever walked into that bedroom and looked at how the plaster was torn to shreds in the exact shape of the headboard knows that there was no "ended much to soon" in any of our conceptions. I was there, remember. I saw the whole thing.
Oh, what a night,
Hypnotizing, mesmerizing me.
She was everything I dreamed she'd be.
Sweet surrender, what a night!
Damn fuckin' straight. Go Herb! Go Me!
I felt a rush like a rolling bolt of thunder
Spinnin' my head around and taking my body under.
Oh, what a night!
I have always been a strong swimmer, apparently from day zero.
Oh, I. I got a funny feeling when she walked
In the room and I,
As I recall it ended much too soon.
I assure you, dearest friends, this is more of that belittling clap-trap spewed out by ultra-feminists who think there's power in unnatural foreshortening of male prowess in the stamina field. Complete and utter nonsense. Please see above reference to plaster indentations and note, once again, PLASTER -- NOT SHEETROCK, NOT SOFT GYPSUM ASSEMBLIES. QUICKLIME, SILICA, AND HORSEHAIR OVER A LATTICEWORK OF3/8" PINE LATH. All of it pounded to dust in the shape of a homemade oaken headboard with funny little spires carved and whittled by the hands of the man administering the rhythmic energies, thousands of strokes - if I may be so crude - necessary to do such love damage.
Oh, what a night.
Why'd it take so long to see the light?
Seemed so wrong, but now it seems so right.
What a lady, what a night!
For me, it was actually a reversal of light. Inside the female uterus, there is no light, and though the miracle of swimming upwards -against the flow of Lord knows how many Ladyland fluids generated Lord knows where - to find a miniscule target and then finding it is, without a doubt, illuminating, it's pitch black in there, y'all.
I felt a rush like a rolling bolt of thunder
Spinnin' my head around and taking my body under.
Believe.
Oh, what a night!
(Do, do, do, do, do. Do, do, do, do, do, do.)
Oh, what a night!
(Do, do, do, do, do. Do, do, do, do, do, do.)
Oh, what a night!
(Do, do, do, do, do. Do, do, do, do, do, do.)
Oh, what a night!
(Do, do, do, do, do. Do, do, do, do, do, do.)
Oh, what a night!
(Do, do, do, do, do. Do, do, do, do, do, do.)
Oh, what a night!
(Do, do, do, do, do. Do, do, do, do, do, do.)
I was born a little over nine months later - late, according to my father, having grown to nearly eleven pounds.
