Generation GapPosted: September 20, 2008
Saturday night, and here I sit. I can’t go anywhere.
I have two cars. One is flat on empty, the needle hugging the E line. The other has a quarter of a tank of gasoline, which I must conserve so I can get to work Monday…and Tuesday. Nashville has no gasoline. Franklin has no gasoline. A panic started Friday. Stations ran out and closed. Others that had a supply had lines of cars a mile long waiting. I checked four stations in Cool Springs and two in Grassland this morning and struck out. I don’t know why this is happening. Rumors. Panic. My friend Currie’s husband Colin heard about Nashville’s gas shortage in Sweden where he is on tour singing.
My son called and suggested I go out and do something. “I can’t,” I said. “No gas. I’m stuck here. I can’t do anything. I can’t go anywhere.” Then I sang to him.
Well, it’s another Saturday night and I ain’t got nobody. I got some money ’cause I just got paid…
He interrupted me with a very pleased laugh, so I sang it again.
Well, it’s another Saturday night and I ain’t got nobody. I got some money ’cause I just got paid… I put all I had into it.
“You should call Casey [his friend who owns a recording studio] and sing that for him. He might want to make a song out of that. Really. That’s pretty good.”
“IT IS A SONG!” A little 1963 Sam Cooke that went big on the charts.
“O-o-oh, I didn’t know.” He laughed again, a little embarrassed this time. “I thought you were making it up.”
“Yeah, from back in the day. My day.”
So I’ll stick some chocolate chip cookies in the oven and watch Sandra Bullock in Miss Congeniality a-gain and hum “Another Saturday Night” and then I will settle in and nibble on Lee Gutkind’s Forever Fat.