Since I have “liked” NPR’s fanpage on facebook I usually get updates on my wall of interesting stories they are highlighting for the day. Today one of them caught my eye—and I bet I’m one of the only twenty-somethings out there who would repost a link to a story about Roy Orbison.
I’ve told this story before, but it always gives me a good chuckle. It’s the event that made me start having romantic feelings for P. It’s kind of funny to think that the love of my life may have been spurred on by an unattractive white man with bouffanted hair and dark sunglass, and perhaps a mix up between him and Buddy Holly.
That moment wasn’t my first encounter with Mr. Orbison. When my sister and I were in elementary school my aunt had an audio tape she played in the car that had “Pretty Woman” on it (probably the soundtrack from the movie, it came out around then). For about a year or two, whenever we got in the car with my aunt she would turn the tape on and blast the song as we all jiggyed along. It was probably one of the first few non-Beach Boys songs I knew all the words to and could belt out at the top of my lungs without worry of missing a beat.
(If I may take a 30 second tangent, I was a huge Beach Boys fan as a kid. They were the first band I fell in love with, and I knew ALL their songs. They came to the New York State Fair on my birthday when I was in kindergarten, and my parents brought me to their concert. It was the best thing ever; I was standing on the bleacher dancing and singing all night! I distinctly remember this moment from the concert when the band members yelled out, “How many people out there are in their 30s?” and I jumped up and down cheering with the crowd, “How many are in their 40s?” I kept cheering, “How many in their 50s?” still cheering. I thought I was a party animal. The people sitting next to us asked my parents if they played Beach Boys music in my cradle. I know, I’m a nerd, but I never pretended not to be ;) )
Anyway, before P left for Nepal I made an appointment to meet with the officiant who will marry us at the American wedding. After sorting out some of the details of the ceremony, she wanted to get to know us a bit better, and asked us how we met and then asked each of us when we realized we loved the other. I’m used to sharing stories, but P isn’t really the lovey-dovey sharing type. So I gladly jumped in with the movie/pretty woman story, finishing up with the fact that I am still wearing the same tortoiseshell style glasses (my newer ones broke, and these and my backup pair—I’m been too lazy to fix my old ones, so I’m still wearing the “Pretty Woman” glasses).
She got a huge kick out of it, and asked if it was going to be our “first dance” song at our wedding. I said no, probably something else. Part of me thinks it would be funny and meaningful to dance to Pretty Woman, but many of the people attending don’t know the story, the significance will probably be lost on them, and they might think its narcissistic or corny or something. But I’ll definitely put it early in the lineup when everyone else is out on the dance floor with us!
So cheers today to Roy Orbison, “Pretty Woman,” and love. Mr. Orbison would have been seventy-five on April 23rd.
(It’s not the best version of the song, but the only one I could find that was decent on youtube: )