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February 05, 2009

Summer Wind

It was 6 am on a Sunday morning in 1966 and I had been out all night wasting what little money I had in many of the fine strip clubs of Norfolk. It was the height of the Viet Nam war and sailors in uniform were never carded.

I was in no hurry to return to my ship in Little Creek so I walked in to a greasy spoon near the Y and ordered a cup of joe. I had two quarters left in my pocket. I paid the tab with one. The other one went in the jukebox.

Sinatra was 51 in the fall of of '66 when he recorded this song. To a punk kid of 18, he was ancient but I became a fan that day.

Funny how the smell of wine can bring back memories of an old black dog and a boyish prank. It is the same with an old tune.

Posted by roadapples at 07:04 AM | Comments (2)