Old Enough to Forget

My friend Wes has a deceivingly sinister sense of humour. A couple of Christmases ago he'd come over for a rehearsal and instead of bringing beer he brought me a record saying it was an early Christmas present. It was wonderfully shiny, and there was a sticker on the cover saying this a factory sealed direct import from Germany. I thanked him and put the album in a place of prominence ... until he left, and then it went into the processing pile. It stayed there for a couple of years. I'd see it now and again and then shuffle it back into the pile. It's not like I had anything against James Last. As a kid there always seemed to be an advertisement on the T.V. pushing his latest Non Stop Dancing album. He always seemed to me to be the used car salesman equivalent of Lawrence Welk without the bubbles. This was party music for old people who wanted to be in with the kids. He was older than my parents, and my parents were out of step with music and it never occurred to me they ...