And I was chatting with the two nice workers at the front desk. One man, one woman. Both young. Around 30 at the oldest.
The young man mentions he once lived in LA. But he didn’t like it so much because of the nasty traffic jams on those freeways filled with all those cars. To which I said the first thing that came to mind . . .
“LA is a great big freeway, put a hundred down and buy a car . . .”
They said nothing. So I continued, from memory . . .
“In a week, maybe two, they’ll make you a star.”
They just stared, so on I plowed, reciting lines I knew by heart.
“Weeks turn into years, how quick they pass, and all the stars that never were are parking cars and pumping gas . . .”
By now, they wore the frozen smiles of people who think they’re dealing with a lunatic.
“It’s from a song,” I said. “By Dionne Warwick.” As if that explained it.
“Oh,” the young man said.
“You’ve heard of Dionne Warwick, right?”
“No, he said.
I looked at the woman.
“Sorry,” she said.
I had nothing to say because what could I say? It’s just inexplicable to me that someone could get through 30 or so years of life and not have heard of Dionne Warwick, one of my favorite singers.
I don’t mean to shame younger people. In fact, I’m in no position to shame anyone on this front. Every day I learn things I didn’t know that other people can’t believe I didn’t know.
For instance, I recently read this