Beyond this afternoon’s core workout I have absolutely buckus planned for the rest of the day. In other words, for the first time in three weeks I’m having an actual honest-to-goodness (not mention much needed) “Recovery Day”. I don’t feel burnt out mind you, I’m just being mindful to be doing the right thing and right now the right thing is kicking back doing nothing today aside from taking it easy and maybe a few rounds of Exploding Kittens with HRH for “Daddy-Daughter Date Night”.
To keep my intended “easy-does-it” theme for the day through Day 26 of planks, push-ups, squats and what have you, I’m going with another selection from my small (but growing) collection of Bachelor Pad Exotica albums, the ‘Music to Relax By: Lost In A Cloud‘ by Ken Griffin.
Don’t judge me.
This music was popular once. In fact, lots of people in the mid-50’s (the album was released in 1955) likely got their shit, inhibited and modest freak’s on to this record. I can practically smell the spent pheromones of past decades on this particular record.
For that reason alone this album is worth the $1.00 I spent on it at NOMAD’s in Stevensville. Well, HRH paid for it actually but I have to pay her back. What does it say that I borrowed money from an 11-yearold girl in order to buy mid-century swingers music?
Actually, let’s not go there.
Ken Griffin was a prominent organist for Columbia during the 40’s and 50’s. Born in Columbia, Missouri. It was in the 1940’s in Aurora, Illinois, that Griffin first broke into the nightclub circuit, playing at the Rivoli Cafe nightly. The sessions at the Rivoli cafe were broadcast on the radio station, WMRO, and the program became popular. His biggest hit was ‘You Can’t Be True, Dear‘ (1948), which was first released as an instrumental, and later that year re-released with a vocal by Jerry Wayne dubbed in. Both versions became popular, selling over 3.5 million copies. He also starred in a 1954-55 syndicated television series, 67 Melody Lane.
Griffin died on March 11th, 1956 in Chicago, Illinois at the age of 46, of a heart attack and was buried at Lincoln Memorial Park in Aurora. One has to wonder how many Baby Boomers might have died had Griffin lived longer, released more albums and, subsequently, encouraged more people to get sweatin’ between the sheets as they used to say. Fortunately for swingers everywhere, Columbia had many hours of Griffin’s unreleased recordings on tape, and continued to release “new” recordings of Griffin’s music for a number of years after his death.
Now, Griffin’s music is cheesy as all get out, but it’s still all kinds of awesome too. Just look at the cover: it has a guy with a rocket strapped to his back in the lower left hand corner trying to zoom up to the gargantuan woman lounging in lingerie on a fluffy cloud and baring her cleavage.
If that alone isn’t Simply the Tits enough for you, I have no idea what is.