What’s It Like To Be Me?

This Explains A Lot

Monday night on the car radio, Dick Biondi (94.7 “classic hits and true oldies”) introduced an old song he had played last week, and gotten some good feedback on, called “Gimme Dat Ding”.

It’s a goofy little ditty, from 1970, with a rollicking barrelhouse piano.  I wonder if iTunes has it; I need to get this for our iPods.

Towards the end of the song, I tried to remember who did it. Let’s see … “Gimme Dat Ding” … who was that? Hmmm …

… think think think …

And suddenly, an image appeared in my head, of an old 45, and on the label it said “The Pipkins”. The label was sort of an orangey off-white color. The writing was black. It was there, plain as day, in my brain. I don’t remember if that was my record, or if I’d just seen it somewhere and remembered what it looked like, or if I totally invented it. It was just there.

The song ended. Dick Biondi came back on: “That was the Pipkins!” Because everything Dick Biondi says has to have an exclamation point on the end. It’s just how he talks.

So apparently, I have plenty of room up there to burn images of old records into my brain. And recall them 38 years later.

That will come in handy when the Alzheimer’s kicks in.

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