Performer: Otis Redding
Songwriters: Steve Cropper, Otis Redding
Original Release: Single, The Dock of the Bay
Year: 1968
Definitive Version: None
I got an internship at YMCA’s national headquarters in the summer of 1987 while taking a quarter off at Northwestern, and it was my first journalism-aligned gig. I loved taking the L downtown to work each morning; I felt like a real Chicagoan.
The job was a great learning experience, and the fact that I was the only single guy surrounded by a half-dozen single women in their 20s and 30s was a definite bonus.
One day, one of the women, Cindy, suggested a group outing to Jukebox Saturday Night, which was an oldies (read: ’50s) bar in Lincoln Park. You could tell you arrived when you reached the back end of the T-bird that stuck out of the wall onto the sidewalk. Being one of the few single guys at the outing, I got a lot of attention. Good thing I did a passable twist. (My Dad’s love of Chuck Berry, et. al. finally paid off!)
This is one of the songs the DJ played with regularity. Granted, it’s not a ’50s song, but it definitely fits the milieu. It also was Sasha’s favorite song. I ended up mostly paired off with Sasha, who was a recently divorced 35-year-old. I wasn’t complaining, and when we ended up in her car later after she gave me a ride home, I was pledging allegiance to Otis Redding (among others).
I had just broken up with Beth the previous spring, and a summer rebound romance with an older woman was exactly what the doctor ordered.
Alas, I was the only one searching for such a prescription. Sasha had a kid, and after another hot date, she decided she didn’t want to expose him to someone who wasn’t potentially husband material. Being 23 and just getting started in the world, that clearly wasn’t me. Fair enough, but that doesn’t mean I had to like it.
Fortunately, it wasn’t awkward at work, and I mean that sincerely. I just moved on to the next cubicle. But that’s a story for another time.
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