Well, I wrote the lyrics, anyway. That’s the hard part, right?
I had to spend a few months for a contract at a client’s site in the mid-section of the US. There are some very nice people in that part of the country. I’m not so crazy about their local radio stations, though, because I’m not so crazy about country western music and they tend to play a lot of it. Goodness, why didn’t I rent a car with satellite radio?
One of the perks of this contract was that the client agreed to pay my expenses. I lived in a furnished “executive” apartment. They paid for the housekeeping, too.
Sounds like a good deal, you say? What could be wrong with that?
Well, nothing, really. It’s just that the apartment was built and furnished sometime during Ronald Reagan’s administration. It was a shrine to one of the lowest points in the history of design and interior decorating, when my least favorite color reigned.
Nothing against avocados. I love guacamole, for example. I just don’t think guacamole is a wise basis for an interior decorator’s color palate.
So there was a weekend when I didn’t go home. My neighbors were playing music at the highest volume. They were listening to the older country western music. Porter Waggoner. Dolly Parton. Loretta Lynn.
I slipped into the zone and penned this little ditty.
The Avocado Blues
It’s a Saturday night and I’m all alone,
I’m sitting here waiting by the telephone.
My heart’s hurting, baby, ’cause you’re sleeping in jail.
I’ve called an attorney, but I still can’t raise bail.
I know you’re a good man. You’re so good to me.
But you must be brave, dear, and don’t dare you flee.
I’ve got you a lawyer: a smart man named Stan.
We both wish you hadn’t car-jacked that van.
Avocado! I love it! Avocado green!
The stove and the sink, and the washing machine.
The sheets and the towels and the coffee mugs, too!
I’ve built a green love nest. I’ve built it for you.
Yes, prison’s a hard life, a debt you must pay,
But please know, my darling, we’re together this day.
I’ll stand by your side and I’ll testify, too.
Just walk through the front door. I’m waiting for you.
Come back to me darling, I’ll cook you a meal.
Your attorney is pushing for a plea deal.
Until the phone rings with that wonderful news,
I’ll just keep on singing the Avocado Blues.
And now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to buy a dress for the County Music Awards ceremony.