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I’m Gonna Move You, Baby September 26, 2009

Posted by The Typist in cryptical envelopment, Dancing Bear, New Orleans, NOLA, Toulouse Street.
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Eight cylinder adrenaline frustration of no girls on a dull summer night roaming aimless in cars searching for anything (what have you got?) game cock sharp and ready in a rusty Cutlass, blowing smoke inside and out and empties rolling back and forth beneath the seats in time to the AM radio the Mighty KAAY 1090 out of Little Rock and the late night underground radio show Bleeker Street land-locked radio pirates pushing 50,000 clear channel watts of sedition and seduction out across Dixie when suddenly as if in consolation for our failure to fill the car with girls The Legend of the U.S.S. Titanic would come on and and everyone is suddenly drumming on seat backs and singing in bad harmony as the song hammered the cardboard cones of those cheap GM speakers to the limit of their endurance and we would come to the point where all holler as one “You gotta let it out, captain” and collapse into laughter and it was no longer clear who was driving (hear take the wheel for a minute while I…shit I dropped it; where’d it go?) and I’m amazed to this day that we’re still alive because when the Captian comes to and jumps up and grabs the wheel and screams “I’m gonna move you, baby” suddenly we’re hurtling along Uptown’s narrow streets much too fast (look out! look out! look out!) until it’s midnight on the sea the band is playing nearer my god to thee fare thee well Titanic fare thee well and the signal drifts in a hush of static and when it comes back its gone and once again we’re adrift and aimless and a bit empty and broke to boot and no one has a smoke and the baleful dashboard clock says its time and we drift off toward home.

Legend of the U.S.S Titanic – Jamie Brockett