Having a pregnant wife makes hugging hard, as there’s always this little unborn creature curled up in the way. It kept Ellen Page from dancing close to Jason Bateman in “Juno.”
When I brush up against baby girth and Pretty Bride says, “something’s come between us,” I don’t think about Ellen Page or future baby boy, however. I think about R.L.T., as in Rectal Love Train. There were a band made up of a few of my friends in high school in the early 1990s who got some airtime on the local community college’s radio station. One of their hits included the lyrics:
“Something’s come between us,
someone else’s penis.
Don’t you know those aren’t teardrops on your chin?”
It’s nice, really, thinking about 17-year-old kids screaming about infidelity instead of the miracle of childbirth. Give it a try sometime.
Check out blogs by former garage band members here.