Sauro Motel - The Collected Writings of Bobby Sauro.

 

 

I’ve had my head down lately at work, trying to make some money.  Like everyone else, I’ve been hurt by the recession, so my modest goal for this year is to pay off my 18 year-old debt to the Columbia House Record and Tape Club. I’ve paid off both my college and law school loans in faster time. Little did I know I would be in this unenviable position when I eagerly got 13 albums for a 1¢ so many years ago.

 

It started out great. I got every Hall & Oates and Rick Springfield album in the world plus a few more for a penny. Next thing I knew, Columbia House and I started a correspondence that rivaled any I’ve ever had with family members, friends or lovers.  For awhile, I had the upper hand, dismissing their insistent requests that I buy a Bette Midler or Christopher Cross album for $18, plus $6 for shipping and handling. Pretty soon, I found their letters to be inexcusably redundant. I lost interest in my new pen pal, and didn’t bother to respond. That jilting led to my current obligation, which would keep Ken Lewis of Bank of America up at night. 

 

I’m no financial whiz but I do believe I got my penny’s worth. One of the albums I received in that initial package included what, in my opinion, is the best song ever performed by twins with a Scottish, British or Welsh accent, involving a measure of distance.  (Note: songs by The Thompson Twins don’t count because there were 3 of them and, despite their protests to the contrary, weren’t twins.)

 

 

 

I’m proud to say I never used a fake address (like many others) nor went on the lam to evade the Goon Squad from Terre Haute. At least I have my dignity, and, if you ever need me to burn a copy of Kajagoogoo’s “Too Shy,” Mr. Mister’s “Broken Wings,” or any single off the soundtrack from “Xanadu” for you, just let me know.