THE MAN IN THE FLOWERPOT HAT:

The girl sat next to me last night got hot when the singer took off his jacket. His arms went all the way to his shoulders, he’d looked after himself. “Woo! Woo!” she went & squirmed in her seat, a grand daughter in age yet in her twenties. How she knew this old guy’s music & come to love it so deep I couldn’t imagine. The songs made no connection with me, but there was something endearing about his stage craft, like that character Peter Sellers played when he was a gardener. “Wow, he’s so fit!” she grinned to all her girlfriends lined along the aisle, gyrating & glowing in time with the gentle beat of his pick-up band.

(K)