I had a fascinating conversation with a philosophy professor friend recently whose contention it was that the decline of our American culture could be observed by noting the acute lack of good love songs being written. I would have forgotten the conversation if it were not for my wife. She was watching a “chick movie” on the “Chick Channel” and the music at the end was Michael Bublé singing “Save the Last Dance for Me”.
She asked me, from the other room, “Do you remember who first sang that?” I didn’t, so I Googled it and learned that it was first recorded in 1960 by Ben E. King with The Drifters. Now, that’s not to say that Michael, with the funny last name, doesn’t do a beautiful job with it and I strongly suggest that the reader listen to the words on YouTube , especially if you are not of a generation who knows them by heart. They are beautiful.
Michael Bublé – Save the Last Dance for Me
The point of me telling you this, besides offering an example of how things have changed for the worse, is this. It was written by a man who had polio and used crutches to get around and could not dance. He wrote it for his wife who was a Broadway actress and dancer.
Now, I don’t know what that makes you think, but, every time I listen to what’s playing on the radio today it makes me think that, somehow, people have gotten the idea in their heads that the words sex and love are synonymous. Especially young people.
That is, I think, a clear sign of two things.
1. A culture past its peak.
2. In spite of every effort on my part, I must have grown up.