I admit it: I loved Doris Day *sigh*

Back in the 60s, it really did not do to admit to liking Doris Day.

I mean like hey, what with the Beatles, Rolling Stones, blah, blah, blah admitting to liking Doris Day was as near as dammit committing social suicide.

So now, after all these years, I finally have the courage to reveal it: I was secretly in love with her.

And yes, she really was quite sexy, there was always something going on underneath that bubbly personality, not just cute, something quite deeply erotic always hinted at. And she had one hell of a figure, and never afraid to use it. That girl in a low-cut dress, when she squeezed her shoulders together then Wham! things would get confused ...

Maybe it's because my mom liked her, and all the other moms liked her.

Maybe.
They do say you fall in love with a girl like your mother, don't they?

All I know is that babe had something: and it's there to see in this clip.
Her natural charm is vividly on display, and, besides everything else, she is just so appealing.
Watch her eyes ... oh lordy lordy, just watch those eyes....  and the little bobbing on her chair when she's into the chorus, or how she turns to people and overwhelms them with a quick, deep look: and then there are her hugs! Who wouldn't want to be hugged by her?
I think I just fell in love all over again *sigh* ... *deepest sigh ever* ...

I reckon I'm going to go right out now and buy myself a CD of her recordings.
I owe it to her after all these years ...

 

From the Glass Bottomed Boat, this, the impromptu version is my favourite version
But never mind the song: look at the girl and tell me ~ what's not to love? 

Eagles - Hotel California Live - intro to the Hell Freezes over tour

Eagles - Hotel California (Acoustic Live ) by Henry Enciso

The last of my friends who checked in back in the 60's and 70's is approaching that time when he has to check out. His room in the hotel is clean these days, but he has to stay there, and every day is another day keeping it that way. At least he got this far: the first to go used lsd wings from the 20-something-th floor of the Hilbrow Ponte building which was new then and a fable to consumerism, snorting, sniffing, puffing and patches.

This is a very smooth version of the song: acoustical: it had a much harder edge back in the late 70's when it came out. Compare it to the older, edgier, version  which is also live but showcases the great hard guitar solo in its original intent. I have a soft spot for the acoustic version, but its the raw rock of the original that still lights the fire in my belly and the anger behind my eyes.

The light passes, but for some the candle flickers in a bare hotel room in an endless darkness of waiting

Lyrics here for those who want to dwell on them for a while

Cover image from Wikipedia under fair usage

The couch, the airport, the long wait

Redecorating should be approached with caution.

I know this: repaint the walls, and you will find that the curtains look tatty.
You can end up with a new bedroom suite just by changing the carpet in the living room.

Sophie (the couch) has been in dire need of a new wardrobe for quite some time now.
Not only has her covering becomes faded and stained (there are stains on the stains!), and the odd cigarette hole (now strategically hidden by cushions) blemished her modesty, but her holiday covers just don't fit into the space that she finds herself in these days.

She becomes understandably nervous every time I tell anyone who'll listen that she's about to be re-covered. After all, my fashion design and colour coordination are the subject of happy amusement amongst my so-called friends. My fashion sense extends to knowing that I have bought the wrong thing after I have arrived home. Well, at least I know my mistakes! It has cost me money in the past, not to mention the hoots of derision from all and sundry.

Last July Duncan and Gosia took the matter in hand while I was down in Cape Town and chose the New Material. The Birthday Present: all that was left for me to do was to bring it back to Joburg, find an upholsterer, and all would be good.

The wheels came off at Joburg International -ORT. For some reason there weren't enough trolleys for everybody. So I thought "it's not far, I'll just carry this lot to the car". Four suitcases, one under each arm, and the heavy curtain suitcase gripped in the left-hand.

Next morning I woke up with a compressed spine, a dislocated arm, and pulled muscles in my back and neck. Somehow in recovering from all of that, Sophie has been forgotten, as well as her new wardrobe.

Looking at her today, stained and worn, I decided.
This month, Sophie: the long wait is over.
Just you wait and see, and don't be surprised if the carpet in the spare room suddenly changes colour too!