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• Thursday, December 4, 2008 02:25 AM

  why, that reminds me of a song

  a song that tells a story a damn sight more colorful than the mercenary banality of the episode depicted in that article:

  Fancy (Bobbie Gentry)

  I remember it all very well lookin back

  It was the summer I turned eighteen

  We lived in a one room, rundown shack

  On the outskirts of New Orleans

  We didnt have money for food or rent

  To say the least we were hard pressed

  Then mama spent every last penny we had

  To buy me a dancin dress

  Mama washed and combed and curled my hair

  And she painted my eyes and lips then I stepped into a satin

  Dancin dress that had a split on the side clean up to my hip

  It was red velvet trim and it fit me good

  Standin back from the lookin glass

  There stood a woman where a half gown kid had stood

  She said heres your one chance fancy dont let me down

  Heres your one chance fancy dont let me down

  Mama dabbed a little bit of perfume on my neck

  And she kissed my cheek

  Then I saw the tears wellin up in her troubled eyes

  When she started to speak

  She looked at a pitiful shack

  And then she looked at me and took a ragged breath

  She said your pas run off and Im real sick

  And the babys gonna starve to death

  She handed me a heart shaped locket that said

  To thine own self be true

  And I shivered as I watched a roach crawl across

  The tow of my high heel shoe

  It sounded like somebody else that was talkin

  Askin mama what do I do

  She said just be nice to the gentlemen fancy

  And theyll be nice to you

  She said heres your chance fancy dont let me down

  Heres your one chance fancy dont let me down

  Lord forgive me for what I do, but if you want out

  Well its up to you

  Now dont let me down you better start movin uptown

  Well, that was the last time I saw my ma

  The night I left that rickety shack

  The welfare people came and took the baby

  Mama died and I aint been back

  But the wheels of fate had started to turn

  And for me there was no way out

  And it wasnt very long til I knew exactly

  What my mamas been talkin about

  I knew what I had to do but I made myself this solemn vow

  That is gonna be a lady someday

  Though I dont know when or how

  I couldnt see spending the rest of my life

  With my head hung down in shame you know

  I might have been born just plain white trash

  But fancy was my name

  Heres your one chance fancy dont let me down

  Heres your one chance fancy dont let me down

  It wasnt very long after a benevolent man

  Took me off the street

  And one week later I was pourin his tea

  In a five room hotel suite

  I charmed a king, a congressman

  And an occasional aristocrat

  Then I got me a georgia mansion

  In an elegant new york townhouse flat

  And I aint done bad

  Now in this world theres a lot of self-righteous hippocrits

  That would call me bad

  And criticize mama for turning me out

  No matter how little we had

  But though I aint had to worry bout nothin

  For nigh on fifteen years

  I can still hear the desperation in my poor

  Mamas voice ringin in my ear

  She said, heres your one chance fancy dont let me down

  Heres your one chance fancy dont let me down

  Lord, forgive me for what I do

  But if you want out well its up to you

  Now dont let me down

  Your mamas gonna help you uptown

  I guess she did

  See? That's downright romantic, in comparison. Bobbie Gentry always did have a way with words.

  (For another sample of Gentry's balladry, I suggest you youngsters Google up

  "harper valley p.t.a." + lyrics

  That's one you don't hear on "1960s oldies radio" very often.)

  —cabdriver Read cabdriver's other letters
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