- Category: Opinion
- Written by Jim Dee
Circa 1980 ... I was 11 years old and, lost in nightmarish L.A., decided to tour a movie studio. Somehow, I'd taken a wrong turn, wandered from my mostly elderly tour group, and found myself in a lavish office lobby. Disoriented, I felt an instinctive urge to visit the building's roof, figuring that if I could just look out over the city, perhaps I'd know which way was home. So, I approached the nearest elevator, clicked the UP arrow, and waited.
In the meantime, a group of musicians along with some British guy named Joe ("Mister Cocker" they were all calling him, which made me snigger a little) ambled toward the elevator. They pushed the UP arrow a dozen times, but the elevator wasn't budging from the top floor. Finally, Joe started to get a little pissy. He even looked at me at one point, bent down to my level, and demanded, "Where's the bloody lift?!"
When I answered, mocking Mr. Cocker's Britishism to his face, one of the musicians gave me a sidelong glance. She said, "Young man, did you just say, Love lift us up where we belong "?
"No," I answered. "I said, 'the lift is up where we belong.' Why?"
"No reason," she said, oddly smirking. I swore I saw her slyly take out a pen to jot something down at that point. How weird ...
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[I apologize for the lame-ness of the above post, but FWIW it's 10x better than my sad butcher's story -- the man who cries, "Every time you go away, you take a piece of meat with you."]
Below, are the original comments on this post. Additional comments may be made via Facebook, below.
On August 14, 2007, wrote:
(insert rimshot here)
On August 15, 2007, wrote:
Reminds me of one of my all-time Letterman lines. He was introducing Joe Cocker: "And now, from his new album Cocker ... Cocker? I hardly knew her."