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Painted Ponies

She's talking about Duran Duran and I interrupt to ask, "Who are they again? I mean, I know, but . . ." She looks surprised, then starts to tell me, sounding just the teeniest bit patronizing.

I gave up listening to pop music after the Seventies, figured it wasn't going to get any better; plus I'd finally gotten down to the business of making a living and being respectable. For what I can no longer imagine. Here I am listening to a woman twenty years too young tell me what a babe Simon Le Bon still is and how deep the lyrics of R.E.M. go, and more. But I don't say I wasn't paying attention back then, or that I'm not paying attention now, either. I'm thinking about a song from my day, about painted ponies on a carousel and wondering when they speeded way the hell up.

Story by:

David Daniel

15 April 2018