The Nine-Year-Old: "Dad! That's gross!"
Me: "What?"
The Nine-Year-Old: "That is disgusting. That song you are singing."
Me: "What?"
The Nine-Year-Old: "That song:
'I left my heart
In San Francisco
High on a hill
It calls to me...'
It's disgusting! A heart, out of its body, spurting blood all over the place! And calling in a shrill, panicked voice! That's weird! That's gross!"
The Twelve-Year-Old: "It goes, 'Lub-dub, lub-dub, "Gianna!" Lub-dub, lub-dub, "Gianna!"' And with each lub-dub it gives a little hop. Pedestrians gather around..."
The Nine-Year-Old: "And with each hop the heart spurts more blood. Soon the heart runs out. Then it starts to draw blood from the inhabitants. The inhabitants of San Francisco lose all their blood. They turn into zombies and vampires. They stalk the streets, undead. Terror and blood and gore..."
The Twelve-Year-Old: "It goes 'Lub-dub, lub-dub.' The sound gets louder. The people say, "Run for your lives! The heart is coming."
Me: "I'm glad I didn't get to the next line--the one where the cable cars climb halfway to the stars, and then lose lift and crash back to earth as the tourists scream in terror..."
Posted by DeLong at October 14, 2002 10:05 AM | TrackbackI left my wife
In San Francisco.
High on a pill
It calls to me...