Since I began my commute down the colorless plaines I find myself analyzing song lyrics to the most random songs. Today's theme: infidelity with a side of casual sex. Featured song: "Pina Colada" by Rupert Holmes.
First things first, like many of you in my general age group I know you grew up with this song playing tirelessly on the radio. I can also guess that, like me, you probably even sang along to it, knew it almost word for word. But, I doubt that you ever really stopped (or cared to stop) and really listen to the lyrics. Why would you? You have better things to do...right? Obviously, when trapped in my car two hours (total) a day I am a captive audience. The song, "Pina Colada" pretty much left me with my mouth gaping open.
What was it with the seventies? I've read stories and seen movies about "key parties" and "swingers" and I am still left scratching my head. These people with their unruly body and facial hair, their love for anything Karma Sutra and bathrooms stocked with various oils and lotions. I get it. But take a closer listen to the lyrics to the song "Pina Colada" and you will see how truly skeezy the folks in this song were. Here, I'll save you the fun and summarize. This seventies guy is laying in bed reading the paper while his "lady" that he was "tired of" was sleeping when he found a personals ad. After reading the ad, and being intrigued by her desire to have someone who likes to "Make love at midnight in the dunes of the cape," he replied and set-up a meeting the next day at noon at a bar so they could "plan our escape."
Then he gets to the bar, waits with "high hopes" when in walks his own "Lovely Lady." She says "Oh, it's you" and they share a laugh. Then he realizes he didn't know that she shared his love for pina coladas, getting rained-on, the feel of the ocean and casual sex. Then it was all happily-ever-after.
I know it's a fantasy (insert Aldo Nova "Life is just a fantasy, can you live that fantasy life" lyric here) but it's creepy and gross. Am I wrong here? Both were willing to cheat and bust each other cheating with a complete stranger (personal ad, in the seventies, isn't that fodder for porn plots). Then, they blow it off and think it's funny? Really....
Then, cut to scene: rumpled moist sheets twisted around hairy toe-knuckles, orange and brown-patterned bedspread barely covering two splayed lumpy bodies and the aroma of aqua-net and stale cig smoke hanging low in the already spicy air. Not attractive seventies people, not in the slightest.
