WHHHHY do you build me up
build me up
Buttercup baby just to let me down
let me down
And mess me around
You know worst of all
Worst of all
You never call baby when you say you will
Say you will
but I love you stillI NEED YOU! MORE THAN ANYONE DARLING
YOU KNOW THAT I HAVE FROM THE STA-A-A-ART
So build me up,
Don't break my heaaaaaarrrt....It was August of 1969 and my family was in Canada on our first family road trip. I wouldn't be turning twelve until November, and my tween self was enamored with Top 40 music. My little sister and I would pass the time on the road by singing our favorite popular songs, the windows of the VW pop top camper van rolled down and the wind blowing our straight ass '60's hair. We knew the words to a lot of songs, could harmnize, know who got which part. Air play a tambourine.
My older sister was nearly 16 and didn't really even want to be on the trip. She spent her road time and camping time buried in a book, reading. In retrospect, I'd have to say she had a lot of patience for mine and my little sister's antics. It was my dad who eventually couldn't handle the sing alongs and would tell us to shut it. My mom would try to keep us happy by passing back Oreos and bags of chips. But eventually restlessness would lead to boredom would lead to bickering would lead to poking.
I can still picture my dad's hand swinging behind him trying to land a slap. Like a crazy appendage pendulum.
Part Two tomorrow.