2:45 AM.
Chris flung himself on the bed, exhausted. Today had been the longest day of his life. Up at 5 doing laundry and studying for a Humanities exam. At school by 7:30. Exam at 8. At work by 10:30. Work till 6. Home. Eat. Shower. Practice at 8. Gig at 11.
He had just drifted off to sleep when he heard a commotion on the stairs leading down to his bedroom.
“You can’t flippin’ park there, Chris!” It was Ellie. His Dad’s trophy wife. What the hell was she doing up at three o’clock in the morning?
Since it was easier to just do what she wanted than involve her in anything that even resembled conversation, Chris threw on a tee shirt and sweats, slipped into his flip flops and made his way toward the garage door.
Ellie ambushed him as he made his way through the dimly lit kitchen.
“If you thought about someone other than yourself every once in a while things like this wouldn’t happen. And while we’re on that subject, get your shit out of the dryer. It’s been in there all day. There are other people living in this house that may need to use the dryer, none of whom are responsible for doing your dirty laundry. Maybe if you spent a little time doing the things you should be doing around here instead of playing band with those losers you call your friends you could make something out of yourself. You know like get a real life? Quit living in your Dad’s basement expecting other people to pick up your slack? But that’s a lot to ask isn’t it? I mean of someone who’s as hell bent on remaining a guitar playing loser as you are?”
As soon as ‘Little Miss Can’t Be Wrong’ stopped yammering, they both heard it. The unmistakable sound of liquid flowing somewhere- and by the sound of it- somewhere it shouldn’t be flowing.
Chris flipped on the light switch next to the garage door.
Evidently, Ellie had started a pot of coffee but failed to put the pot on the burner after she filled the reservoir.
“Now look what you made me do!” Ellie exclaimed as she clamored to get the pot under the flow of hot liquid that had already made it’s way across the counter, down the front of the cupboard and was quickly forming a pool on the kitchen floor.
Chris flipped his long black hair back with a practiced jerk of his head, snickered an, “Ooops!” and slid out the back door.
Oh yeah… That was worth gettin’ up for.
Little Miss Can’t Be Wrong
Been a whole lot easier since the bitch left town
Been a whole lot happier without her face around
Nobody upstairs gonna stomp and shout
Nobody at the back door gonna throw my laundry out
She holds your shotgun while you dote-se-doe
She want one man made of Hercules and Cyrano
Been a whole lot easier since the bitch is gone
Little miss, little miss, little miss can’t be wrong
Little miss, little miss, little miss can’t be wrong
Ain’t no body gonna bow no more when you sound your gong
Little miss, little miss, little miss can’t be wrong
Whatcha go’n do to get into another one of these here
Rock ‘n’ roll songs
Other people’s thoughts they ain’t your hand-me-downs
Would it be so bad to simply turn around
You cook so well, all nice and French
You do your brain surgery too, mama, with a monkey wrench
Little miss, little miss, little miss can’t be wrong
Ain’t no body gonna bow no more when you sound your gong
Little miss, little miss, little miss can’t be wrong
Whatcha go’n do to get into another one of these here
Rock ‘n’ roll songs
(Hell you can’t be wrong, no, no, no, you can’t be wrong)
(Oh you can’t be wrong, you can’t be wrong, you can’t be wrong)
I hope them cigarettes are gonna make you cough
Hope you hear this song and it pissed you off
I take that back, I hope you’re doing fine
And if I had a dollar, I might give you ninety-nine
Little miss, little miss little miss can’t be wrong
Ain’t no body gonna bow no more when you sound your gong
Little miss, little miss little miss can’t be wrong
Whatcha go’n do to get into another one of these here
Rock ‘n’ roll song
Little miss, little miss, little miss, little miss can’t be wrong
Oh you can’t be wrong, no you can’t be wrong, you can’t be wrong
Little miss, little miss, little miss, little miss can’t be wrong, no
Little miss, little miss, little miss, little miss can’t be wrong, oh
Little Miss Can’t Be Wrong was released on the Spin Doctors 1991 debut album, Pocket Full Of Kryptonite. While the writing credits of this song go to the collaborative team of Aaron Comess, Christopher Gross, Eric Schenkman, Mark White- in other words, The Spin Doctors as a band, the lyrics were written by Chris Barron (aka Gross) and refer to life with his wicked step-mother. A woman who had the audacity to tell him he “would be a guitar-playing janitor and live in the basement of the high school and ‘play guitar for the rats.'”
How satisfying it must have been for him to have the song he wrote about “the bitch” reach #17 on the US charts in 1992.
This is my response to Jim Adam’s call for songs that contain the words Listen, Hear, Talk, or Speak on this weeks Song Lyric Sunday. I chose ‘hear’. It’s in there. I promise….
Just the words spin doctors probably ideentifis thee time 🙂
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It does indeed. Thanks for dropping in for a listen.
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Love your story, the whole lot. Your Chris is like… like several guitarists I’ve known while Ellie reminds me of a bitch whose face I once erupted into
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Hahahah! My sweet historic goddess erupting? Say it ain’t so…..
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You know how it is when someone says… the wrong thing. Entirely the wrong thing. The one thing that plucks the deepest chords. And that someone is a simpering, controlling bitch who’s winding one of your friends around her delicate little finger. Something snapped.
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Being of Italian Irish heritage, a know a mite about outbursts of temper.
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I’m fairly even keeled. So when I do blow… the world and his brother ducks!
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Good one!!! Who’s the loser now? LOL
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Exactly. Couldn’t have worked out more perfectly if I had written it myself.. Oh. Wait a minute….
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Nice one, Violet! Reminds me of a house share…
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In that case, I’d be looking for other accommodations!
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I love this story Violet. Karma! Serves her right. Love the song too 🙂
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I have always loved this song, and this was the perfect venue for this story. Thank you so much Christine…
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Obviously it wasn’t Ellie’s fault…
Good one, Violet!
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Well of course not! Thanks for being here, Tom!
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My pleasure!
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A nasty step mom! Served her right. Great writing Violet.
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Thank you Sadje. I am really enjoying writing fort his music prompt, even if I am the only one who adds in a bit of fiction…
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That’s because you’re so good at it.
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I remember this science Teacher said that I would end up living in a basement and he turned out to be right, as I had two different basement apartments. Nice music Violet.
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Is it wrong of me to love this so much? 😀 😀 LOL! Great story too! 🙂
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Not at all!!! It’s called schadenfreude. Any anything called something that remarkable has GOT to be good!
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I really like the story. The kid has so much more going for him than the haranguer.
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Thank you Jade. I am really enjoying writing stories that coincide with my music choices.
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Have you considered starting a prompt to that effect? I’d participate for sure.
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There are so many prompts now I can barely choose between them. But I do enjoy bastardising the current music prompt with fiction 😈
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lol I wish I had a devil emoji!
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I have the debut album in cassette form. Too bad I have nothing to play it on anymore. Though I do hear this and more on Pandora 90s channel. Thanks for sharing, love this one.
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I finally parted with the last of my cassette tapes when I decided on a transient life in Alaska. Live half the year in different places makes too many belongings a hardship, and like you mentioned, I had no way to play them….. Thank god for playlists!
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The villain – trophy wife – was so real. I bet everyone knows a person with those character traits in real life.
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And how easy it was for me to write her scathing dialog!
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Reminds me of when I was in (a local) college and stayed there most of the day and didn’t return until after dinner so I wouldn’t get stuck doing the dishes for food I didn’t want to eat with the people who cooked it… It wasn’t a good time to be the only one living at home with ‘dependent’ (and I use the term loosely) parents.
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Excellent short, Violet! Chris really leapt off the page/screen as I read. Bravo on the song choice–I **loved** Spin Doctors, even learned some of their songs for guitar when I was a teen.
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Def one of my 90’s go too feel good songs…
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