About Those Old Songs

Every time I hear “Sylvia’s Mother” by Dr. Hook it’s all I can do not to cry. PLEASE MRS. AVERY—LET HIM TALK TO SYLVIA. HE’LL ONLY KEEP HER A WHILE. I KNOW YOU DON’T WANT SYLVIA TO START CRYING AGAIN AND SHE’S MARRYING A MAN DOWN GALVESTON WAY, BUT PLEASE PLEASE DEAR GOD MRS. AVERY LET HIM TALK TO HER. But no matter how many times I hear the song, the result is the same: Mrs. Avery refuses to let him talk to Sylvia (she's too busy to come to the phone), and the operator keeps wanting more money put into the pay phone (40 cents more for the next 3 minutes). Bad, bad MEAN mother.

Then there’s “A Whiter Shade of Pale.” I’ve read numerous commentaries on this song and I still haven’t come to any firm conclusions about its meaning. There was a girl in high school who told me the song reminded her of me. She told me this as we happened to walk out of chemistry class together. I don’t recall ever speaking to her again, and she left town the next summer. I’ve often wondered if there’s a connection. Maybe I broke her heart when I never spoke to her again. I don’t know whether this incident or the song itself is more peculiar.

Every time I hear “Elinor Rigby” I get goose bumps thinking about Father McKenzie wiping his hands as he walks from the grave (no one was saved). All the lonely people. I’ve always thought that Father McKenzie and Elinor had something illicit going but then something bad happened. If I ever meet Paul McCartney I mean to ask him.

Then there’s “Honey” by Bobby Goldsboro. I was told by another girl in high school that Honey didn’t die; she just went away. I’ve gone with that interpretation for 40 years now.

I hear Mick Jagger sing “You can’t always get what you want, but if you try sometime, you just might find, you get what you need,” and I agree.

Then there’s that immortal question of why Billy Joe McAllister jumped off the Tallahatchee Bridge. And what were he and the girl throwing off the bridge? I’ve always thought he jumped because he got cut from the football team. You know how Southerners are about football.

I admit I play the music too loud in my car. The windows vibrate and I’m sure I’m heard a mile away even with the windows rolled up. At least I don’t do rap. But I do sometimes start crying uncontrollably. If not “Sylvia’s Mother” then maybe “Last Kiss” or “Last Date” or “Does Your Chewing Gum Lose it’s Flavor on the Bedpost Overnight.” The answer is YES: it does lose its flavor.