Click on the headline to link
to a YouTube film clip of James Ray performing If You Gotta Make A Fool Of
Somebody.
CD Review
The Rock and Roll Era: The
‘60s: Keep On Rockin’, various artists, Time-Life Music, 1989
“Josh called, Josh called,
Josh called about seven times while you were out Betty,” Mrs. Becker yelled up
to Betty rushing to her room in order to get ready for her big date with new
romance Teddy. Teddy today freshly met at the beach, the beautiful, beautiful
Olde Saco Beach, formerly just a beach, a too stony to the Betty feet touch
beach, fetid at low tide (it stunk, honestly) and on more than one occasion
held to be a beach fit solely for lowlife by one Betty Becker. But now
beautiful, beautiful since Teddy, Teddy Andrews, had noticed her and graced his
bare feet on that stony brine as she was stationed along with her bevy of
summering Olde Saco High School girls in their traditional spot between the
Seal Rock Yacht Club and the South Saco River Club. But enough of beaches,
enough of stones, enough of boat clubs.
Teddy had spied her, he said,
from the deck of the Seal Rock Club and was compelled, compelled he said, to
check out the foxy blonde-haired chick in the red bikini. Betty smiled, smiled
the of the knowing, knowing that she had turned more than one head this summer,
older guys too, with that very revealing bathing suit. Unlike the others though
that she would have rebuffed if they had approached her Teddy had noticed,
walked over to the bevy of blankets and told her just that. And she practically
swooned.
Dreamy Teddy, rich Teddy, of
the father-bought new Pontiac Star Chief with plenty of zip and style that every girl in school was
crazy to get in the front seat of. Teddy of the forget Josh, walking Josh of
the no car fraternity. Blah. And before Betty could hear the faint ring of
another Josh call she was out the door and planned to be off-limits, Teddy off-limits,
to every Josh in school, until somebody came by with a father-bought Cadillac
and then maybe she would find herself in the front seat of that automobile.
Maybe.
Meanwhile Josh, Josh of the
infinite nickels, had stepped away from the telephone at Doc’s Drugstore over
on Main Street after making that eighth call to one Betty Becker. See, Josh had
two reasons for using the public telephone at Doc’s, first, he didn’t want
snooping older brothers to harass him over his Betty craze and so he would not
use a home phone to call her. And secondly, currently, the Breslin residence,
due to an out of work father, had no phone with which to call Miss Betty in any
case. So he was pushing shoe leather between the telephone booth and his stool
at Doc’s where a forlorn Coke (cherry Coke) was waiting on the completion of his
errand. He said to himself one more time was all and then he would head home.
Doc’s motions made him realize that was his fate in any case as he was ready to
close up shop for the evening. Ninth call, no soap, and he left saying a
pitiful good night to Doc.
Out on Main Street he walked
head down, lost in thought, when a big new Pontiac, two-toned (a couple of
shades of green then stylish, uh, cool) passed him by, honking like crazy. He
didn’t realize who it was until the car came back to him honking like crazy
again. The he saw Betty and her dreamy Teddy laughing, laughing like crazy at
the “pedestrian.” The car stopped, Betty
got out and gave Josh his class ring back saying that she was not walking any
place anymore, thank you. And then, to add insult to injury, Teddy floored the
petal leaving dust all over Josh. He could faintly sense them laughing, laughing
like crazy once again as they drove away.
When he got home he went up into
his tiny room (the fate of the youngest brother), closed the door behind him,
locked it, and turned on his transistor radio and wouldn’t you know that old
WMEX, the local rock and roll station that had saved his nights more than one time
was playing If You Gotta Make A Fool Of Somebody by James Ray just then. Last
week Betty and he had laughed at that one promising eternally that such would
never be their fates.
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