July 14, 2008

  • The Boxer

    I love songs like these, and while I grew up in the 70s-80s, I feel like I grew up in the 60s.

         The Boxer by Simon and Garfunkel

         I am just a poor boy and my story’s seldom told
         I have squandered my resistance for a pocketful of mumbles, such are promises
         All lies and jest, still the man hears what he wants to hear
         And disregards the rest, hmmmm…

         When I left my home and my family, I was no more than a boy
         In the company of strangers
         In the quiet of the railway station, runnin’ scared
         Layin’ low, seeking out the poorer quarters, where the ragged people go
         Lookin’ for the places only they would know

         Li la li, Li la li Li la li…

         Asking only workmans’ wages, I come lookin’ for a job, but I get no offers
         Just a come-on from the whores on 7th Avenue
         I do declare, there were times when I was so lonesome
         I took some comfort there, la la la…

         Li la li, Li la li Li la li…

         And I’m laying out my winter clothes, and wishing I was gone, goin’ home
         Where the New York City winters aren’t bleedin’ me, leadin’ me, goin’ home

         In the clearing stands a boxer, and a fighter by his trade
         And he carries the reminders of every glove that laid him down or cut him
         Til he cried out in his anger and his shame
         I am leaving, I am leaving, but the fighter still remains, hmmmm…

         Li la li, Li la li Li la li…

         Li la li, Li la li Li la li…

    Man, I’m really old.

    As proof of that, I have come to realize that while conversing with my interns (who are college students), more often than not, I have no idea what they’re talking about, especially if use of acronyms and shortened text-message-like words are inserted into conversation. I need a generational dictionary.

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