He had a mile-high pompadour. He wore too tight Memphis truck-driver cuffed jeans. He was quiet and unfailingly polite, with plenty of “yes sirs” and “no ma’ams.” Whenever you saw him, there were strains of “Love Me Tender” and “Don’t be Cruel” in the air.
The King?
No, our sometimes bus driver in high school – the man we called, somewhat derisively, “Teen Angel.”
"Teen Angel" drove us to many basketball and football games, along with other school outings, always accompanied by his ‘50s 8 tracks. Lots of Elvis, of course. But plenty of doo-wop, rockabilly, and Buddy Holly too.
We thought this was thoroughly unhip. His nonsense was taking the place of our Chicago, Jethro Tull and Yes.
Now, I realize he was making a statement. "Teen Angel" knew his music and era were better, and he didn’t care what any pimply-faced high school kids thought of him or his tunes.
I bring this up because we were all out for a drive trying to get Ruby to sleep the other night and I had the local oldies AM station on the radio. Now, this station is little too much Patti Page and not enough Little Richard, but it is still light years ahead of most everything else on the dial.
And my wife immediately referred to it, somewhat derisively, as “old-man’s music.”
Well, of course I am old, and I guess nothing (other than my ever-increasing aches and pains) exemplifies that more than my music.
But I’m proud to be stuck in the past. Like "Teen Angel," I guess I’m an anachronism.
Now I need to go work on my pompadour.
"Teen Angel," wherever you are, this is for you:
Tex Rubinowitz – Hot Rod Man/Bad Boy
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