A little too late, a little too lazy

A little while ago I had the urge to write a poem about Karen Valentine.
You remember her, the Gidget-esque student teacher from Room 222 back in 1969.



I mean she was seriously adorable with whatever it was that goofy hairstyle was that only a college age girl could pull off.

She was a twenty two year old actress in a tv sitcom and I was a nineteen year old airman first class in Biloxi Mississippi, and doesn't this sound like the start of a John Prine song?

Don't worry, I'm not going to get all Donald and Lydia on you, but seriously she was out in Hollywood mingling with the likes of Lloyd Haynes and Stanley and Barry, the Livingston brothers, while I was trying to learn to like the taste of beer at some little honkey tonk just outside Gate 2 at Keesler Air Force Base. So it could never be, am I right.

But shit, a guy has to have dreams doesn't he, about some special girl, somewhere, even if the odds of connection are a billion to one, am I right?

So the poem I wanted to write turned into another half assed post, of me rambling on and maybe slipping a gist of a thought or idea in amongst the words and references.

Who knows, I wanted to write a poem, now all I want to do is take a shower.