Hurricane Harbor

A writer and a tropical muse. A funky Lubavitcher who enjoys watching the weather, hurricanes, listening to music while enjoying life with a sense of humor and trying to make sense of it all!

Saturday, March 26, 2005

Wishing I was on Caroline Street Tonight

So where was I before my crazy weather friend made me click through one screen after enough freaking out over a ton of tornado warnings all across Alabama, Mississippi and Northern Florida?

Alabama... Jimmy Buffett.

I was going to explain that Chloe's Wall of the Wierd has nothing on my life. It would fall down like the Walls of Jericho because my life is wierder than anything Smallville (which btw is filmed in CANADA........NOT Kansas!)

So............. way back when.. in the land of highschool and a time that was where the seeds of the wierdness began..

We used to go on a Saturday night.. as soon as we could get out of Westchester, into the Gables to a Coffee House called THE FLICK. For the price of a bad movie we could see great performers, some famous.. some yet to be famous perform every saturday night, at the Edge of the campus of the University of Miami where years ago the hurricane center was... was a little coffeehouse with a big awning with big letters that said THE FLICK (cut and paste that with a diff font and think on it) and... sometimes someone famous like Melanie or one of Willie's outlaw folk types would play and sometimes Uncle Dirty would sing about meatballs rolling down the stairs and out the door and other very dirty lyrics that I didn't get but Ed did. And.. it was long and dark and every six feet or so hung a different stained glass tiffany type lamp, with little round tables where four people would sit drinking a whacky fruit punch served in a tall plastic, fake crsytal cut vase sort of thing that served as a pitcher with four very long tall straws when we were young and didnt worry about sharing drinks with eachother. Or you could sit in the dark red booths that ran the length of the dark coffee house and stare up at the victorian looking semi naked looking ladies that looked like they were caught between a bordello and posing for a cigar box top.. or stare into your boyfriend's eyes.

And... you could sit and watch Jimmy Buffett perform with some of his earliest Coral Reefer friends who were yet to be the Coral Reefers sing about Ellis Dee and other kinds of songs like... Why Don't We Get Drunk and Screw or .. The Christian.

Great times.. great place... great boys.. great Ceasers Ghosts which is what this whole Mercury Retrograde thingie is all about... not to mention a New Moon/Full Moon in Pisces that was so kickass it kicked me in my brain and heart and I've fallen and I can't get up.

okay..enough song cues here..

Suffice it to say... this is one great song.. and more so.. the lyrics..

No...I'm not being disrespectful on Erev Easter here.. no.. not at all. Just love the lyrics about a darvon compound and stumbling out onto the street trying to find Faustos.. perfect. Absolutely perfect.

So.. enjoy.. my sentiments tonight followed by the Woman on Caroline Street.

My head hurts, my feet stink and I don't love Jesus.
It's that kind of mornin',
really was that kind of night.
Tryin' to tell myself that my
condition is improvin' and if I don't
die by Thursday I'll be roarin' Friday night.

Went down to the snake pit,
to drink a little beer.
Listened to the juke box,
oh, it's comin' in clear.
All of a sudden I wasn't alone
pickin' country music with old Joe Bones.
Duval Street was rockin',
my eyes they started poppin'!
Because there she sat at the corner of the bar,
as I broke another string on my old guitar.
Someone call a cab.
Lady won't you pay my tab?

(First Verse)

Got to get a little orange juice,
And a Darvon for my head.
I can't spend all day,
Baby, layin' in bed.
I'm goin' down to Fausto's
to get some chocolate milk.
Can't spend my life in your sheets of silk
I've got to find my way
Crawl out and greet the day.

(Repeat First Verse)

Got to get a little orange juice,
And a Darvon for my head.
I can't spend all day,
Baby, layin' in bed.
I'm goin' down to Fausto's
to get some chocolate milk.

Got to get a little orange juice,
And a Darvon for my head.
I can't spend all day,
Baby, layin' in bed.
I'm goin' down to Fausto's
to get a strawberry kiwi yogurt
and some rainforest green mountain coffee.

There's a woman goin' crazy on Caroline street
Stoppin' every man that she does meet
Sayin' if you be gentle, if you be sweet
I'll show you my place on Caroline street

She claimed in a loud voice to be a dancer
But I don't think she's cut a rug in years
Listens to the juke box for her answers
Slowly guzzles twenty-five cent beers
Talks about the men she's known and then some
She's seen them in her dreams and on the street
She slides her dapper legs from beneath the table
As if to reveal some kind of treat


Her lover left her stranded in Jamaica
And just right now she can't recall his name
Perceiving she is the center of attention
And all the lurking eyes they look the same
Weather's got the shrimpers in a frenzy
They're horny and don't need a good excuse
Someone yells and things just start erupting
In a flash all hell has broken loose


When I woke up and looked around the bar room
She was gone and I was black and blue
So be careful when you go to swing your partner
`Cause someone might just take a swing at you


Post a Comment

<< Home