An anniversary of sorts

If you’ve ever listened to an oldies radio station, chances are you’ve probably heard at some point in your life the song, “Save the Last Dance for Me” by the Drifters (nb: I haven't heard an oldies station in over 10 years, so for all I know, they now play Oasis and Nirvana).

To give those of you unfamiliar with "Save the Last Dance" an objective idea of how great a song it is: according to wikipedia, it’s the 182nd greatest song of all time—which makes it not quite as good as Outkast’s 180th ranked “Hey Ya!” but clearly better than “Stayin’ Alive” by the Bee Gees (#189).

If numbers aren’t your thing, here’s an attempt to link to the audio:



Feel free to listen along while you read.

Anyway, based on the lyrics, I always assumed that the song was from the perspective of some arrogant teenager at a dance who was trying to convince his girl, and himself, that he was vastly superior to any other choices in men that she might have, and that no matter what she would end up going home with him at the end of the night. Here's one verse of the song:

You can dance (you can dance)
Go and carry on
'Til the night is gone
And it's time to go
If he asks if you're all alone
Can he take you home you must tell him no
'Cause don't forget who's taking you home
And in whose arm's you're gonna be
So, darlin', save the last dance for me

Based on the intended audience, my interpretation may still be valid, but from an NPR segment, I learned that the song is more autobiographical than anything and has a much more beautiful subtext.

Born in Brooklyn in 1925, Jerome Solon Felder contracted polio at the age of 6 and fell in love with music while recovering. As a young man, he took on the stage name “Doc Pomus” to avoid embarrassing his family and began a career as a song writer and performer.

Described as a “short, portly white guy with leg braces who sang at black clubs,” Doc eventually became a full-time songwriter and ended up writing songs for big names such as Ray Charles and Elvis.

Anyway, that's all background to introduce what one historian said about the writing of “Save the Last Dance”:

When he did write something personal, Doc made it universal. He was married by now, and Wilma, his wife, loved to dance, which because of his legs, Doc couldn't do very well. Still, on weekends he’d take her to a dance hall and sit while she danced with others, and then when the band leader called the last dance, get up and stumble around the floor with her. He turned this experience into one of his most memorable songs, written for The Drifters.

I absolutely love the image of this married couple--a gifted dancer and a crippled man--stumbling across a dance floor at the end of a night.

The scene provides a touching metaphor for the mutual support provided by marriage. You have the husband supporting his wife something she loves, and an appreciative wife unabashedly supporting her husband. As an aside, I think the lyrics reflect the thoughts of a man who realizes what a good thing he has going and who will do anything to preserve it.

Here are the full lyrics:

You can dance
Ev'ry dance with the guy
Who gives you the eye
Let him hold you tight
You can smile
Ev'ry smile for the man who held your hand
'Neath the pale moonlight
But don't forget who's taking you home
And in whose arms you're gonna be
So darlin', save the last dance for me, mmmm

Oh, I know (oh, I know)
That the music's fine
Like sparkling wine
Go and have your fun
Laugh and sing
But while we're apart
Don't give your heart to anyone
But don't forget who's taking you home
And in whose arms you're gonna be
So darlin', save the last dance for me, mmmm

Baby, don't you know
I love you so
Can't you feel it when we touch
I will never, never let you go
I love you oh, so much

You can dance (you can dance)
Go and carry on
'Til the night is gone
And it's time to go
If he asks if you're all alone
Can he take you home you must tell him no
'Cause don't forget who's taking you home
And in whose arm's you're gonna be
So, darlin', save the last dance for me

'Cause don't forget who's taking you home
And in whose arm's your gonna be
So, darlin', save the last dance for me, mmmm
Save the last dance for me, mmmm-hummmm
Save the last dance for me, mmmm

So other than sharing a great story, what’s the point in my writing about this song? Well, I’ll tell you.

Depending on which one of us you ask, either yesterday (me) or tomorrow (erin) will mark the anniversary of our first date. Regardless of which of us is right (I am), we both agree that the last few years have been a wonderful and joyful adventure.

Overall, Erin and I are ideal companions for each other. We laugh at the same things; we agree on what we should be doing in life; and we both don’t want any house pets. We also share common aspirations, and I think we complement each other well in whatever life presents. I think it’d be accurate to say that--invoking the biblical metaphor--we’re “equally yoked.”

However, there are moments when I realize that I am married to someone who is so much more brilliant and capable than I am and just how lucky I am. At these moments, I realize that I did take seriously my dad’s marriage advice, “Marry someone better than you.”

Erin's gifts and talents continually amaze me. I love that my wife, who, after a long day of wrestling with challenging legal questions and complex factual situations, comes home each night to listen to my rambling thoughts and ideas.

So, in conclusion, much like Doc Pomus, I am grateful for a wife that slows down at the end of the day to stumble across the floor with me.

Happy (one day late) Anniversary