Come on, baby! Don’t beekle the dice!
That one still gets stuck in the mental song-loop on occasion. The other day, after the McCartney concert at the BOK Center, a Facebook friend posted a picture of a Beatles record (those big pre-CDs) along with a snippet of song lyric. Naturally, Don’t Beekle the Dice popped into my head.
It is one of those songs that aren’t really too deep. No ethereal connections. No double-entendres about politics or the deeper meaning of life. Easy to sing along with.
It turns out – while singing along – I’ve been mangling the words. My whole life, I suppose. I tend to pay more attention to the instruments than the vocals, for whatever reason. As a kid, I was singing along with the radio and a fellow named Wayne Newton.
Doctor Shane… Darling, Doctor Shane!
Back then, I never really tried to figure out what the songwriter had for the good Doc. Later, I discovered that the words were in the German language.
Dankeschön! Darling, Dankeschön! Thank you for….mmmmmm seein’ me again!
(Now that oldie is stuck in my head.)
One day, while I was mentally rolling the Beekle, or maybe I was Beekling the Dice – it struck me as particularly nonsensical. Beekle the Dice. Really? I quit repeating it and started dissecting it.
My baby said she’s trav’ling on the one after 909
I said move over honey, I’m traveling on that line
I said: Move over once, move over twice
Come on baby don’t Beekle the Dice!
Me, thinking it over, at last: Beekle the Dice? Beekle the Dice?
Mental process: Don’t be stupid. There’s no Beekling in Dice.
Me, ashamed: Come on, Baby! Don’t BE COLD AS ICE.
Mental process: Whew! I had me doubts, laddie.
Me, singing aloud: Come on baby, don’t Beekle the Dice!
Said she’s trav’ling on the one after 909. I realized that train had left the station long before I had my bags packed.
On the other hand, I sometimes overthink things. I drive the speed limit because if I don’t, I’ll get a ticket. I could be on the longest, loneliest, dirt road crossing the Arizona desert and get pulled over if I run it five over the limit. As a result, I get chafed as cars pass me by. (Right. I’m that old fool poking along that everyone has to go around. I just told you I get tickets. I can afford tickets less than I can afford your sour looks as you pass me.)
Overthinking it, I wonder if the folks zipping around me at 45 or 50 in the posted 25 zone also ignore the other laws. I no sooner had that thought this morning, when the person who passed me doing 45 or 50 ran the red light in front of us. (Naturally, I had time to stop…)
From my position – idling there at the crosswalk, I could see the speeder/red-lighter narrowly avoid colliding with commercial van that was executing an illegal grand-mal U-turn mid-block on Main. From speeding to red-light running to U-turns in less than one hundred yards.
I decided burglary and murder were only a-ways down the street, so I turned left on Dallas to avoid the inevitable emergency responders.
If only we had a mass-transit line near the store. I could be travelin’ on the one after 909.
Until then, Don’t Beekle the Dice. Come visit!
McHuston
Booksellers & Irish Bistro
Rose District
122 South Main Street, BA OK!