Literally, the first thing I thought of when I saw this week’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday’s prompt: back. For details, check out Linda Hill’s blog.
One of my all-time favorite songs. For those of you unfamiliar with Sir Mix-A-Lots ouvre and ode to voluptuous buttocks, the video is embedded below.
Fonda ain’t got a motor in the back of her Honda.
Man, love that song. When I see the word “back,” the song often pops into my head. When my girls were younger, they’d often sing along to it – perhaps not one of my more stellar parenting decisions. Sorta like the time driving to visit friends in Newport News when they were like 6 and 3 and singing along to the Grease soundtrack. Trouble was, I had only ever watched Grease on network TV and hadn’t ever actually listened to the words from Greased Lightning. You don’t want your 6 year old singing about getting lots of tit.
Gotta be careful with the music lyrics when they’re young; and have a fast finger for the pause button.
Watched “The Way, Way Back” late night a few months ago – it has Steve Carrol in it, so I thought, “Oh, comedy.” Except his character is a real prick, so that part was a little bit of a bummer. On the other hand, it’s a damn fine movie. One of those small movies that you finish watching and go, “that was a nice movie.” Good soundtrack too. Highly recommend both. Kinda like that one with Gandolfini and Elaine from Seinfeld . . . . . . . . Enough Said (?, I think). Also, a really good movie with great acting – such a shame he died so young.
And there’s a concept that changes as you get older. I remember when I was 7 and 8 and my Meme and Pawpan were in their 50s and thinking, “They’re like mummies.” Of course, they were extremely active mummies – even until just before they each passed. I have a vivid memory of Meme, halfway up a dirt cliff with me in Arkansas, digging for quartz – wearing her inch heels (only time she ever wore anything flat was when she had her slippers on in the evening.)
40 used to be old. Now, meh, I’m thinking 70 doesn’t look too bad, as that’s only 27 years away now. Though, most days, still feel 16 – just a rounder version of that self.
Anyway, back to back.
Back to the Future. Fatback. Baby Got Back (there I go again!). Back pain. Get back, honkey cat. Back up. Back that thing up. Get my back up. Back scratcher (one of the best purchases I’ve ever made). Scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours. Back to basics. Back to our roots. Don’t look back. Back Bay. Back pay.
And now I’ve written back so many times that it’s starting to lose meaning. Weird how that works in my head sometimes.
Back to butts. Oddly enough, I’m not a butt guy. You know, most guys (and chicks too) are attracted to one body part more than others – boobs (though nearly ALL guys like those), legs, neck, eyes, feet (hey, whatever floats your boat). I’ve always found that I’m more a “whole is greater than the sum of their parts” guy. So long as all the parts fit together in an aesthetically pleasing manner; me likey. And, yeah, happily married, but just because I can’t order doesn’t mean I can’t look at the menu!
And that’s about my 15 minutes.