The Boffin is in Tulsa, Oklahoma. He has a glamorous job working on natural gas technology, and his team is there. That means every month or so he has to go down, eat barbeque, and discuss nerdly things with other people who actually use calculus. I can’t begrudge that because it allows us to conduct the Great Social Experiment that we call our life.
When he took this job, of course, my thoughts turned toward Gene Pitney. Yes, Gene Pitney. It’s a natural connection. And this should not be a surprise given that my neurons are awkwardly wired. Think spaghetti on a two-year old’s head.
My thoughts also turned to Burt Bacharach and Hal David because it was their song, Twenty-Four Hours from Tulsa, that Gene Pitney turned to chart success in 1963. It peaked at #17 in the U.S. and #5 in the U.K. I like Gene, I really do, but the music is very much of its time as you can hear when you play the video.
For those who couldn’t get past the twangy guitars or the fact that Gene is lip-synching in a motorcoach for the entire video, it’s a tale of a lad who basically fell in love with someone else at a rest stop while he was driving home to his lady in Tulsa. Evidently, his being only twenty-four hours from his fair city was supposed to be some sort of consolation to the woman he dumped.
Let’s ponder that concept for a moment.
Being almost home makes it so much better.
“Allie, I know I fell todger first into your sister. But the pub was only round the corner.”
“Well, that’s all right then. Come have a cuppa.”
So basically, this loser could not hang on for one more day until he got to the finish line. Not one more measily little day. Plenty of people have stayed faithful through entire deployments into war zones, and this yutz fell like a house of cards when he stopped to drain the lizard and have some sleep. Not only that, he is willing to give up everything he has in Tulsa for the other woman. What a wuss.
Now I am wondering about the other woman too. She can’t be that much of a prize if she is willing to just latch onto a guy who would just up and leave his mate in Tulsa for her. Unless he lied to her about having someone there. Then she is gullible, and I feel sorry for her.
At this point is when you say, “Relax, Karen, it’s just a song.”
Of course, me being me, I expressed these thoughts to my husband. You would think he would have told me it was “just a song”. But he didn’t. Oh, no. He indulges my insanity, usually by laughing. That only encourages me. The fool. You would have think he would have learned.
I also pondered out loud about where this genius possibly could have stopped to be twenty-four hours from Tulsa. The Boffin, being the Boffin, actually mapped it out using 24 hours at 50 miles per hour as a baseline.
Of course, being an engineer and not a lyricist, the Boffin created an additional map on the premise that it was probably 12 hours, since the guy was only resting.
Nevermind that the song says twenty-four hours. It is more logical to take a break at night and do a full day’s driving the next day to reach home. I love that man.
So, here we are…Mr. and Mrs. Overanalysis. And who says that’s always a bad thing?