You Make Me Take Off My Shoes Before You Let Me Get In

I don’t want to be sounding pessimistic here, but I have been contemplating folding up all my shorts, cropped trousers, floaty blouses and summery dresses and putting them into storage and pulling out all of my winter woolies. The weather is turning here in England.

We have a whole week of constant rain and drizzle ahead. I’m never ready for summer to end. But I have found that for over thirty years, spring has returned to England each year, usually in spectacular style. So for now…I will wrap up warm, find my boots and comfort myself with gingerbread lattes.

Jim Adams, aka Newepicauthor, the creator of A Unique Title For Me, is hosting SONG-LYRIC-SUNDAY and this week he has chosen the theme: CLOTHING/HAT/PANTS/SCARF/SHIRT/SHOES/TIE

I surprised myself by listing a great long list of songs for today’s SONG-LYRIC-SUNDAY. Great theme Jim. We are again spoilt for choice.

But in the end I had to go with my mood. I’m not going to explain everything right now, but you may be aware that something unexpected has happened in my life in the past week or so. Very unexpected indeed. My heart is up in the air.

I think I have mentioned in the past I have a problem with the whole idea of “celebrity”. I don’t agree with giving humans excessive glory, especially not for prancing around a stage in their knickers. But I have often crossed paths with celebrities for various reasons. Years ago it was when I was working in the music industry. But then when I started to centre my life around volunteering for various charities, all sorts of celebrities would like to get involved. Some I have actually got on with and liked, others not so much.

One particular national radio DJ and I, found ourselves sparring with each other, after the bombastic way he rolled into working with other volunteers. The numpty did something highly inappropriate and reprehensible on one of our projects. I had the privilege of sitting him down for the “who on earth do you think you are?” chat. Working with him left a bitter taste in my mouth. I felt as if he was only working with that particular charity to improve his own image in the media. A form of glory-hunting. If you want to be a volunteer, you ought to be selfless. Not having an ulterior motive of boosting your own popularity.

Anyway…I digress. There is one particular celebrity who has had a massive impact on my life. That is the man I used to live with. Right I will avoid any further mention of Jack in this post. But let’s just say this, a couple of nights ago, we had a pivotal conversation during which I explained that I am not willing to live my life with the threat of celebrity culture and all of the viciousness that tags along with it, breathing down my neck. I want a normal life. One that ignores the existence of people with whom I am wholly unconnected taking photos of me, making comments about me and spreading outright lies about me. I did not mince my words. I hope very much I was understood.

I finished my little rant with the words “if I think I am going to be dragged through the hedge again or thrown in front of the bus – then it’s NO CANNOLI”. The person I was talking to started laughing at me using the expression “no cannoli”. So I made it personal and said that I was not impressed by what he might think he is because of the celebrity hype. I indicated that I am only interested in the real him. It was a very impassioned speech on my part. What I wasn’t expecting was the response that it provoked.

Well…thanks for letting me get that off my chest! That was the reason why I have chosen to feature a song that mentions shoes, if nothing else. Shania Twain, “That Don’t Impress Me Much”:

I’ve known a few guys who thought they were pretty smart
But you’ve got being right down to an art
You think you’re a genius, you drive me up the wall
You’re a regular original, a know-it-all

Oh-oo-oh, you think you’re special
Oh-oo-oh, you think you’re something else

OK, so you’re a rocket scientist

That don’t impress me much
So you got the brain but have you got the touch?
Now don’t get me wrong, yeah, I think you’re alright
But that won’t keep me warm in the middle of the night

That don’t impress me much

I never knew a guy who carried a mirror in his pocket
And a comb up his sleeve just in case
And all that extra-hold gel in your hair oughtta lock it
‘Cause Heaven forbid it should fall outta place

Oh-oo-oh, you think you’re special
Oh-oo-oh, you think you’re something else

OK, so you’re Brad Pitt

That don’t impress me much
So you got the looks but have you got the touch?
Now don’t get me wrong, yeah, I think you’re alright
But that won’t keep me warm in the middle of the night

That don’t impress me much

You’re one of those guys who likes to shine his machine
You make me take off my shoes before you let me get in
I can’t believe you kiss your car good night
Now, c’mon, baby, tell me? You must be jokin’, right?

Oh-oo-oh, you think you’re special
Oh-oo-oh, you think you’re something else

OK, so you’ve got a car

That don’t impress me much
So you got the moves but have you got the touch?
Now don’t get me wrong, yeah, I think you’re alright
But that won’t keep me warm in the middle of the night

That don’t impress me much
You think you’re cool but have you got the touch?
Now don’t get me wrong, yeah, I think you’re alright
But that won’t keep me warm on the long, cold, lonely night

That don’t impress me much

OK. So, what do you think? You’re Elvis or something?

That don’t impress me much!
That don’t impress me much!

Written By: Robert John “Mutt” Lange and Shania Twain