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It’s interesting how music can instantly transport you back through time – for better or worse. For example, “Hungry Like A Wolf" by Duran Duran makes my shoulders itch and my head droop when I hear it, because when it was popular I was wearing shoulder pads in my mini-dresses the size of bed pillows, and my hair was so big it made my head sag a little (in pictures from the eighties I have a vixen’s Princess Diana-like scowl it’s because my hair is weighing down my head so much). The song “More Than A Feelin’" by the band Boston makes me think of frying myself to death on my best friend Nicole’s backyard patio as we sat marinating in baby oil “catchin’ rays" back when nothing was bad for you except curfew. Coincidentally, “The Devil Went Down to Georgia" reminds me of being grounded (couldn’t quite go in when there were those awesome crazy violin riffs to dig!) The song “My Sharona" by The Knack reminds me of being homesick out in college in the great Southwest – it also reminds me of a place called Bernalillo – my first dormitory at school. And, the awesome-ness of being un-groundable so far away from home.
Lately, our family has become obsessed – we call it “obsessed by duress" (why didn’t Duran Duran think of that for a band name!) due to my six-year-old’s keen, laser-like interest in a gentleman by the name of Barry Manilow. This all started when I was in a Wal-Mart during my vacation in Orlando a few weeks ago (yes, by suburban gravity I have to go to Wal-Mart even on vacation – that’s nature’s way.) My sister and I were in the CD aisle in our flip-flops and tee-shirts, pushing our joint carriage full of inflatable pool toys, lamps, frames, paperback novels, small electronic devices (yeah, we’re that good) when we saw a CD called Ultimate Manilow. Through our discussion, we realized that not only did we like Barry Manilow, we loved him, and we were secure enough to just come on out and feel the love. Barry is cool, his voice is cool, and we both had to have this CD which encapsulates an awesome career. I threw the CD in my suitcase, and forgot about it until we came home.
Well, my six-year-old heard “Copa Cabana" and went nuts, and now it is the soundtrack of my summer – I know every thing I need to know about Lola, including 1) she was a showgirl, 2) she wore yellow feathers in her hair, 3) and a dress cut down to there, among other things. She was in love with Tony, who tended bar, and they both worked from eight ‘til four (I’ve reached the point in my son’s obsession in which these people are now real to me, and I know their schedules and passions). Everything was cool in their world working at the club until Rico showed up, and whistled for Lola to come over to him, at which point Tony “sails across the bar" – this is all Copa scholars are given to work with, and their has been some revisionist Copa popping up, where he “jumps" across the bar, but no, it’s quite clear that he “sailed across the bar." Now, this is where it gets interesting: there was blood, and a single gunshot, but just who shot who? I have actually sunken to the point of trying to figure this out, in line at the grocery store, or picking up kids from camp. And why was there blood before the gunshot? And should Tony have been who Lola was involved with, given that a single whistle from Rico caused him to erupt in violence (and, no doubt, a very messy bar area?) It is also interesting to note that in the chorus, the song goes, “Copa Cabana…have a banana…music and passion, always in fashion." Hmmm. What could this mean?
So, while people everywhere are taking summer classes, working on their Masters’ or enriching their minds, or perhaps studying art, or history, or going on tours of quaint cities, I am here trying to figure out the meaning behind “Copa Cabana" for all of us. I think I might know what its meaning is – absolutely nothing, nothing at all…and that’s just the way we like it. Duran, Duran, anyone?
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