An Old Man and "Blue Velvet"

On the news (and elsewhere) these recent days I've been reading about (and seeing) the video of a police officer shoving a man who falls over backwards and hurts his head. Virtually all those reports have referred to the shoved guy as "an old man."*

He is 75. I am 75.

Hmmmmm ...

We'll get back to that in a moment.

Last night, lying in bed as a storm approached, Joyce asked me if I remembered that old popular song "Blue Velvet." I did. I sang a few lines to her as evidence (of a couple of things: my flawless memory, my still-soaring vocal talents).

Written by Bernie Wayne and Lee Morris in 1950, "Blue Velvet," for those of you who are chronologically challenged, was first released in September 1951; I would turn seven in a few months. That initial recording was by Tony Bennett. Several others recorded it, too--but the one that became a big hit was by Bobby Vinton, released in August 1963; I had just finished my freshman year at Hiram College and was not quite 19.

It was on the radio all the time (I listened to a lot of radio back then)--at all the dances--on Muzak (the stuff you heard in stores and in elevators, etc.). It swiftly rose to #1 on all the U. S. charts.

Bobby Vinton (1935- ... he's now 85!) was an example of what we used to call a "heartthrob," a "teen idol," etc.

Link to video of the song--see lyrics at the bottom of this post.

Anyway, last night Joyce told me that she'd really loved that song--but didn't really understand why because, you see, she hated wearing velvet (blue or otherwise). And she went off on a bit of a disquisition about the reasons for her discomfort, a disquisition which I, of course (a typically attentive man), raptly listened to as the thunder rolled, the lightning flashed, the trees tossed like waves (that's original, isn't it!).

Okay, back to the "old man" stuff ...

Older folks remain one of the few American cultural groups still vulnerable to comedians and filmmakers and even the press. Always okay, it seems, to make fun of the elderly. (It's pretty safe: We're fragile--what are we going to do to you?)

And it's that fragility I want to highlight in that video of the "old man." Some have said (on FB and in the White House) that his fall was fake, etc. Staged.

But here's what I saw. A simple (not really viciously aggressive) shove in the chest (Get out of our way!), some steps backward by the "old man" as he struggled to regain his balance. His fall.

(One of the disturbing aspects of that disturbing video: One cop bends to help the "old man"; another cop immediately pulls his colleague up, and on they go while the "old man" lies there, head bleeding.)

Anyway, what happened to him is exactly what would happen to me were I to receive even a light push in the chest when I am just standing on a street--only I would fall far more quickly, for my balance these days is far beyond "iffy." A lot of the time it just ain't there--at all. Hell, I fall now and then without anyone even coming near me. I am not alone, of course, which is why so many of us "old men" and "women" have canes. I'm resisting that device--too proud at the moment, I guess. I probably need a more devastating fall for Blood to inform me that It's Time.

Perhaps younger people see that video and think, "No way would that shove knock someone over." All I can say is: "Just wait."

Maybe it would help if all we unbalanced (!) "old men and women" wore thickly padded caps--perhaps made of velvet? Blue would be nice.

* I know that this incident--like most everything else these days--is deeply divisive. I'm not trying to agitate; I'm just trying to give you the perspective of another "old man," that's all.

**

She wore blue velvet

Bluer than velvet was the night

Softer than satin was the light

From the stars

She wore blue velvet

Bluer than velvet were her eyes

Warmer than May, her tender sighs

Love was ours

Ours, a love I held tightly

Feeling the rapture grow

Like a flame burning brightly

But when she left gone was the glow of

Blue velvet

But in my heart there'll always be

Precious and warm a memory through the years

And I still can see blue velvet through my tears.

She wore blue velvet

But in my heart there'll always be

Precious and warm a memory through the years
And I still can see blue velvet through my tears