Get Lucky

A huge storm hit the Cities here.  Over 500,000 people were left without power including us, mature trees were downed, and basements were flooded.  Fortunately, our property didn’t sustain any significant damage aside from the inconvenience of having no power for almost 24 hours.  Some folks won’t have power until Wednesday.  Milly and Grace got a taste of what life is like without their beloved technological gadgets, and I will now be reminding them of this experience the next time they fall victim to summer ennui.

I left my husband to care for the restless natives yesterday morning because I had a date with a girlfriend! We were going shopping.  When she found out that we would likely have no power in the evening and possibly into Wednesday she invited us all over for dinner.  Everyone let out shouts of glee (my husband let out a sigh of relief) when I announced that dinner would be at her house.  As we waited at a stoplight, the new Daft Punk single began playing on the radio.

I really, really like Daft Punk which is odd because I’m not a fan of house music or electronica, but it matters not.  I like Daft Punk.  I might even LERVE them.  And their new album? ERMIGERD…Daft Punk collaborated with Nile Rodgers, a man who seems to have discovered the Fountain of Youth because he almost looks the same now as he did back in his Studio 54 days! What do you get when Daft Punk collaborates with Nile Rodgers? Hmmm…I do believe on American Bandstand the kids would say, “It’s got a good beat, Dick.  And I can dance to it.  I like it, Mr. Clark.”  Aaaw yeah, you can dance to it alright, and that’s just what we did in the van yesterday.  Even my husband.  Except for Doireann who proclaimed that this song could not possibly be Daft Punk.  She’s usually the naysayer in the family.  Grace did something that looked like the Funky Chicken.  Eadaoin bobbed her head and bounced her shoulders.  Milly looked like she was having a seizure, and my husband did the White Man’s Overbite.  Me? I just sang along and pined away for a dance floor.  As I was singing I realized I was singing about “getting some” and “getting lucky”.  I was essentially singing the Player’s Mantra:

She’s up all night ’til the sun
I’m up all night to get some
She’s up all night for good fun
I’m up all night to get lucky

I wondered if anyone else was paying attention to the lyrics, and then I turned around and looked at my kids.  Doireann was frowning while everyone else was getting down in the back of the van.  I shrugged and remembered that I used to sing along to all the songs from “Grease”.  I thought that movie was the best movie ever made.  I knew every word to every song.  I pretended to be Olivia Newton-John while spending hours alone in my room singing and dancing.  I loudly and proudly sang:

You are supreme, the chicks’ll cream, for grease lightning

and

You know that I ain’t bragging she’s a real pussy wagon 
Grease lightning

It wasn’t until I was a senior in high school watching “Grease” at a friend’s house when I understood exactly what I had missed all those years ago.  I gasped in the middle of John Travolta’s gyrations and squeaked, “He just sang that chicks would cream!!! OHMIGOD! I used to sing that when I was little! That is so gross!!!! I can’t believe…Did he just say a ‘pussy wagon’? Did he really? I’m in shock.”  Because of this very disturbing memory, I now know that my kids aren’t going to understand what “getting some” and “getting lucky” mean.  I turned around and continued dancing in the car, counting our neighborhood lucky that our power was restored just as we walked out the door to go to dinner at my friend’s.  Grace had a good day yesterday.  No one on my street lost a tree or sustained serious damage from the storm, and we got to sleep in an air-conditioned house.

Yeah, we got lucky indeed.

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11 thoughts on “Get Lucky

  1. I’ve had that same thought about many of the TLC, Christina Aguilera, and Spice Girls songs I sang along to as a kid/teen. I had no idea what I’d been saying until I was in college and realized what “zigazigah” meant, at which time I was thoroughly mortified by my younger self.

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