Bobby, Your "Little Things" and My "Little Things" Are Completely Different
Former pop star, idol, Bobby Goldsboro
a native of Dothan, Alabama, the "Peanut Capitol of The World," scored huge amounts of cash, fame and notoriety with his singing voice that made his signature hit, "Little Things," be burned into the minds of young lovers everywhere in my day somewhere around 1967 or maybe 1968. Sue me. I was young and stupid at the time--trusted everyone. We all know how that went.
"Little Things," I have to admit, was a very good ditty with a memorable guitar riff and lyrics that were memorized by the young lovers (including me) of my day and I will tell you why.
It had to be something about humming or softly-singing Goldsboro's love-conjuring pop hit into the soft ear of our girlfriends (if we had one) and watch the magic happen.
Upon hearing "Little Things," our girlfriends at the time would smile "that" smile, melt into our arms and her red lips would slowly part as "the" signal to all males that she was ready for a hot kiss.
I saw Bobby Goldsboro some time ago on a thirty-minute infomercial with some chick trying to sell a rare, not available in stores, song collections of the 60's and 70's. I secretly-wished Goldsboro well for he looks like he has had many facelifts for how squinted his eyes looked.
Sad. But he dressed great and had his hair (if it was his) styled "to the nines."
So How Does Bobby's "Little Things" Apply To Me?
Easy question. And you know me. I am always looking for a question to answer. So here it is. We are taught almost from birth that we have to be on the look out for the "monsters," who are just waiting to pounce upon us as we journey down the road of life.
Yes, we are taught, conditioned, and prepared for these "monsters," by parents, teachers at school, ministers and some politicians. Those not looking for an easy vote.
The "monsters," for lack of a better word, are things like sickness, pain, tragedy, disappointment, shame, defeat, embarrassment, and a long "laundry list" of "monsters" that will keep us occupied with us keeping our guards up against these things that cause us so many problems.
But have you ever considered the "little things" in life that can cause us as much or more harm than any of the aforementioned "monsters"?
You don't know what I am talking about?
Well, friends, I am here to share with you . . .
10 "Little Things" In Life That Torment Me
1. People who just have to suck their teeth before, during and after dining. I cannot tell you why these people do this. I guess it is a habit. A really annoying habit. Why does it bother me? Well, my nerves, like yours, can only take so much. That's why.
2. People who work in banks, men's shoe stores who are so insincere when they chime, "thaaannnkkkk yeeewwww," when you spend all but $14.93 of your monthly-retirement check on a pair of pants (with a thread drooping from the crotch), and a pair of shoes that you know are "second quality," but are afraid of causing a scene. I can live with the shabby clothing, but that cutesy, plastic, farewell by these clerks with glazed-over eyes, I cannot deal with that.
3. Beautiful display models in store windows that get my attention, but when I ask how much is that antique lamp, the snooty clerk says, "ohhh, you cannot purchase that lamp, citizen, for it's the only one we have." Ever think of ordering, snooty clerk?
4. People who try to sing today's or yesteryear's musical hits but always, like clockwork, get the lyrics wrong. I am so tempted so say, "Hendrix is NOT saying, 'excuse me while I KISS THIS GUY, but kiss the sky," from Purple Haze to these know-it-alls who also think that they have a singing voice.
5. Men clerks in men's clothing who don't come out and say it, but are just itching to follow me to the dressing room to see if I am a shoplifter. I can sense it like an alligator sensing its next meal. These over-zealous clerks get "that" look in their eyes--glazed and set to catch their quota of shoplifters in order to impress their boss, who just happens to be their father-in-law. Hey, look at me. Why would I be in your store on the backside of main street in the first place if I were a shoplifter? Look at your goods, buddy. Any self-respecting shoplifter worth his shifty ways wouldn't disgrace his trade with stealing your goods. Just let me try on this shirt that is two sizes too big, but your tag says it's just my size.
6. Parents who are over-protective and these are family members. They won't let "Little Susie or Johnny," talk to me, their uncle, in a family reunion setting, due to some tacky documentary they saw on the "tree hugger," channel: Democracy Now with some "doctor" of psychology making big bucks on government grants telling these unsuspecting parents that just letting your children talk to uncles in this case, will stunt their creative psyche. Well, why not throw in the grandmothers, grandfathers, aunts, cousins, teachers, and classmates. Let your children grow up in an isolated, insulated environment. And hey, you NOT allowing your sweet children to talk to me, did NOT put me in my place, teach me a lesson, or hurt my feelings.
7. Grown men who love to pass gas in public places and laugh like a jackass on LSD with that certain "ripppp" bellows out of their baggy pants. Grow up. Please?
8. Grown men who are bald as an eight ball, start wearing a tacky toupee and to make it worse, dye their eyebrows and beard to look younger. Hey, old geezers. You cannot beat "Father Time," so just give it up, and show some dignity.
9. People who know all about one subject will dominate any conversation no matter where it is. In the men's room, table in the restaurant, in church, on the job, at coffee break. It doesn't matter. I do not mind people knowing a lot more than I do, it's the fact that they all seem to encircle and converge on me to share their wealth of wisdom. I guess they are all trying to look out for us less-than-intelligent people. News flash: I do not need your teaching. If I do want more wisdom, I will either buy books or CD's on the subject or enroll in our local community college.
P.S. why did the photo below of vintage men's underwear torment me?
Simple. When I was twelve, my dad, who helped build "The Old School," insisted that I wear these items instead of my boyish briefs and tee-shirts. We argued each time I would dress to go to town, church and school.
He won. I didn't give in. I just thought that my old man might just have something for the years he had lived and enjoyed his share of life's successes and pleasures.
I had a "number 11" thing that tormented me--having a memorable, classy ending for this hub, but I don't.