True story. A couple of weeks ago a friend who was leaving the country for good and I went out for drinks and cruised around in my truck listening to AM 740 from Toronto (it’s just the best station there is, so shut up). We were headed to Meridian Hill Park because, after four years of living here, she hadn’t been and, well, I’m a good tour guide.

Right as we’re pulling up 16th St the song from the clip below came on the radio.

I’d heard it before.
I know the song.
Except I was drinking.
And it was on AM radio.
In a loud truck.
With the windows down.

So instead of “Elenore gee I think you’re swell” I heard, and sang, aloud “Oh Imogene I think you’re swell” etc. And, she being of younger age and lesser all about rounded outedness as am I and never having heard the song, jumped right in.

And then we spent a couple of hours (post the witching one) in Meridian Hill Park singing, over and over again, “Oh Imogene I think you’re swell” as well as working out the rest of the lyrics. Loudly. And dodging crack heads and butt-humpers (and if you’ve never been at Meridian Hill post witching hour trust me: there are a lot of drug dealers and butt-humpers thrashing (and thrusting) about in the bushes).

It was almost as bad as the time I swore up and down that Pulp’s Babies was actually Matthew Sweet’s song “Girlfriend.” (I was really really drunk that night though).