jukebox hero

There was an a old woman named connie who smoked menthols and had blue hair and would give me money for the jukebox at the Moose Lodge. I must have been about seven or eight. She would help me pick out songs- not that I needed her help. I could read at that age, or at least I could read important words like Elvis Presley, and Patsy Cline and Dolly Parton. She would dance with me and hold me the way that old ladies hold little boys, with cold fingers and cheap rings. She'd tell me I was a good dancer and I would believe her.

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