“There’s deep meaning here and totally beyond my comprehension.”

In-crowd wannabes

Approximately thirty years ago, after listening to the classic 1960’s hit, The “In” Crowd by Dobie Gray, my daughter asked if I hung out with those type of students. Chuckling, I quickly told her, “Not that I recall!”

To be honest, I don’t know who the in-crowd was back then. Pondering this question for the past several days, Dobie Gray’s song title was Googled to refresh my memory on lyrics. Opening lines go like this:

“I’m with the in crowd.

I go where the in crowd goes.

I’m in with the in crowd.

And I know what the in crowd knows.”

I have no idea where the in-crowd went back then. I’m talking East Anchorage High School in Alaska during the late ’60s and early ’70s.

Shakey’s Pizza was one of our favorite haunts, yet I doubt this crowd spent much time there. As far as that second stanza, what did those classmates know that I didn’t?

I’m guessing it was algebra and trigonometry. I never did catch on to either subject and they’re totally useless at this point. A couple more lines from Gray’s tune are as follows:

We got our own way of walkin’.

We got our own way of talkin’.

I didn’t share either of those traits unless the statement, “Cool!” accounts for something. This word was frequently used by my friends and still is.

And my favorite Dobie Gray line out of all is,

“Oh, if it’s square, we ain’t there.”

There’s deep meaning here and totally beyond my comprehension. It’s much like the saying, “Dig it.”  Dig what?

Now, fifty years after graduating from high school, I can say without question that I’m a bonified member of the end-crowd. This group of cool, hip seniors, is a tough and cagey bunch. Just being able to walk and talk is highly important to us. Dobie Gray’s no longer here to compose a tune, so I did it for him:

The End Crowd

“I’m with the end crowd.

Needin’ a cane, to ease back pain.

Gettin’ the chills, where are my pills?

In front of me, I still can’t see.

I’m with the end crowd.

Whether far or near, I just don’t hear.

Turn up the heat, can’t feel my feet.

Parked on a line, is that some crime?

Who cut the cheese? Thank you, Febreze!

I’m with the end-crowd.

We got our own way of walkin’.

We got our own way of talkin’.

We got our own way of gawkin’.

And we got our own way of rockin’.

Dig it, but not too deep!

End Crowd

Author: michaeldexterhankins

ordinary average guy

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