Flashin’ Back to the ’80s

So here’s the scene:

Some karate friends and I are hanging out at our favorite bar in Peoria, and they’re playing classic rock on the radio, probably off of satellite, and it would occasionally break in for a few seconds between the electronic jukebox selections. We’re examining the mating habits of a pair of blue whales at the other end of the bar, when a song fades out and the sound system switches over to this song:

Blue Belt gets all excited. “Oh! I know who sings this! It’s…” He trails off, trying to snatch the name of the band out of thin air.

I already know it’s Yes, but I can see the gears grinding between his ears, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned in helping teach karate it’s you have to give the student a moment to puzzle things out for themselves. Or, in this case, give him enough rope to hang himself.

“It’s that duo,” he says. “You know, one’s the tall guy, the other has the curly, greasy afro and the porn star mustache.”

I lay the Belushi eyebrow on him:

The Belushi Eyebrow

“Hall & Oates?” I ask, incredulous. Surely he’s not that insane.

“Yeah, that’s them!”

Double Facepalm

He’s only a year or two younger than me. He should know these things. Even if one were to take the wildest of wild guesses, would one really have come up with Hall & Goddamn Oates for “Owner of a Lonely Heart”? After schooling his punk ass with instant access to the Internet via my überphone, I thought it might merit further examination.

Here are Hall & Goddamn Oates (yes, I’m willing to taint my blog with their presence in the name of science):

I played both simultaneously, and maybe I’ll grant a similarity in the vocals, the boundaries of which could be blurred in the distance of memory, but come on, the music is distinct. On the one side we have bass & guitars front and center, on the other a keyboard barely a step up from the default Casio beat (and, okay, fine, a bass).

Hall & Fucking Oates. Gah. I would think he’d have come up with Loverboy first:

At least “Turn Me Loose” has a solid bass line to trump its shitty keyboards.

This is why he’ll always be Blue Belt.

And suddenly I have the urge to find someone in a Member’s Only jacket and beat him with his unbreakable comb.

About Mike Oliveri

Mike Oliveri is a writer, martial artist, cigar aficionado, motorcyclist, and family man, but not necessarily in that order. He is currently hard at work on the werewolf noir series The Pack for Evileye Books.

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