Love Among The Roe-ins
by Your Diva, Robin Pastorio-Newman

We grocery shopped in Princeton and stumbled on sushi grade tuna at the seafood counter. We didn't actually stumble on it - that would be messy - but we did purchase some. So I sat down to watch an afternoon episode of Charmed to find out if there was anything to the fuss, and while Charmed turned out vacuous -- ...just look what you've done! What is this, Paulie my sweet? Tell me, what do you think makes a great song?
 
Paulie Gonzalez: This? What is this? Some wonderful sushi I made for you. Taste the tuna/avocado roll. How's that. All right? I think a great song needs to be a work of art. It requires true feeling to come through. The best musicians are great actors. The best music writers are professors of humanity. Go ahead, use your fingers, hmm - lovely. What is the chemistry behind a great song?
 
Darling: Is there nothing you can't do? Aren't these California rolls? The avocado is delightful, so creamy. Chemistry? Great songs seem like individual confections, don't they? Three-minute or five-minute or twenty-five minute islands outside everything else. Each time I hear the full-length Rock Lobster it seems like the happiest six minutes of my life, no? Perhaps because I started out life in ballet slippers many of the songs I love best have a topographic feel, with movement built into them. Does music make you dance, you bad, bad man, or is it the wasabi?
 
Paulie: If it makes me want to dance it's proof of a good thing. If the song can make you want to move, it worked, the soul came through. The world is full of rhythms. Those who never feel them are sad indeed. I myself love the B-52s, it's always good for getting the girls dancing. Dee-Lite - fu-getta-bout-it. Years ago I created some music for Jim Gunn. From what you're saying, that was good music.
 
Diva: Our dear friend The One True Tami maintains that the perfect song has three components lyrically: sex, death and booze. Curiously, this makes The Night the Lights Went Out in Georgia a contender for the Most Perfect Song in History title. While this savory tuna roll makes me want to sing, sing, sing, I prefer big drums and a distinctive vocal. Unless I don't. I'm whimsical that way, just as this sashimi resembles Morgan Fairchild.
 
Paulie: I recognize the title, but the tune escapes me, therefore it sucks. I think Tami is taking a different perspective here. Perfect? Maybe from a lyrical ingredient standpoint or kitsch value. For me the perfect song is "One for My Baby" as performed by Frank live at the Sands in '66. You can find ten different versions of the tune, but that live performance and flawed recording is the greatest single song ever. The greatest album is Funhouse, by the Stooges. After all these years I don't know what Iggy is saying most of the time, and although I could look it up, I never had the desire. The words don't matter. I can understand him just fine.
 
One True Love: Great songs are like that, aren't they? One understands with the body, separately from the way one understands things like how in the world you got nori to seamlessly wrap the tangy kappa maki. What else inspires you? Are you peeling mangoes or just happy to see me?
 
Paulie: A beautiful girl like you inspires me. The proverbial desert island question - I would be sure to pack you. Whaddya say, querida mia, shall we tango?
 
Precious: I was thinking along Ginger Grant lines, but I can work with Morticia Addams. And with the right dance partner, I can even work with the harpsichord. But, um, perhaps we should fold up the Twister board we've been using as a napkin?
 

©2003 Robin Pastorio-Newman