JOKERS

If there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s that Betty loves a good joke. Devilishly good ones. The kind where you start and something deep inside takes over like an earthquake in your heart. Tears start seeping down your face and you give in and ride the feeling like a wave.

Recently at the Dog Park, a number of us were discussing Teen Music Crushes and our Fan Letter histories. Janet Jackson, Aretha Franklin and mine - swear to God - Richard Nixon. I have no idea what I wrote but he wrote back and I still have the letter somewhere. Typed and signed. At the age of fourteen, I was skeptical enough to wet a finger and smudge the edge of his name to make sure it wasn’t printed.

My friend, M. piped in, “I wrote a letter to Eric Clapton after hearing his song Tears In Heaven”. I immediately burst into a huge BWAH-HA-HA and everyone else laughed too. I was literally crying.

The truth is I know little to nothing about Eric Clapton or this song. We had been talking about teen crushes and so I just assumed Tears In Heaven was some 70’s ballad, the kind you shuffle around to at a Prom. M. would have heard the song on her AM radio and in a fit of Adolescent Romanticism, laid next to her stuffed animals and written to her Idol - in pen, on lined school paper.

I was so wrong. If you don’t know already, the song is what Clapton wrote after his son fell to a tragic death from his NYC apartment. Doh! “Yes”, M. informed me further, “we played it at my sister’s funeral and I wanted to thank him for helping me get through a difficult period.” Doh!

Betty was jumping around from laughing so hard it looked like she was going to pee in her pants. “Oh this is going to be good”, she snickered. "You better pull an Ace out of your sleeve for this one!” Perhaps due to my shocked expression, she continued hopefully “C’mon, you can do it. You were just being a human.”

Fortunately I did have an Ace, or at least a King. I had my friendship with M. and her knowledge of my, uh, unusual perspective. I hastily tried to explain what I had been thinking, between bursts of giggles and eventually (I hope) it all worked out. Later as we all walked up the hill to our car, Betty. Polly and Me, Betty remarks “Man, that talking stuff. Pretty wild huh?” “Yeah”, I reply, “too fucking wild.”

As I dozed off to sleep that night with Polly in my arms, Betty leans over and whispers in my ear. Eric Clapton. I giggle helplessly before closing my eyes, a smile on my face.

12:06:31 PM    sro home /