My blood runs cold

For some reason, I awoke this morning from a dream involving the song “Centerfold” by J. Geils band. It was one of those songs that I once owned on a 45 RPM single, and I played it over and over again, in those elementary school days when a centerfold was something I knew about but couldn’t actually have for myself.

I remember singing the song at a karaoke bar in Chicago, long ago. I had earlier tried to sing Robert Palmer’s “Addicted to Love” and any visions I had of his brand of cool disappeared the second I opened my mouth. I tried again with Centerfold, and seemed to redeem myself fairly well. It was more suited to my vocal range, actually. We all need something that helps us to save face, sometimes.

And in my dream, I found myself reciting the song’s lyrics to an assembled crowd for a poetry reading. Imagine Robin Williams in Dead Poets Society saying this: “My blood runs cold/ My memory has just been sold/ Gather ye rosebuds while ye may.

Carpe diem, y’all.

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