If you are *ahem* “of a certain age,” like me, one of your early musical experiences involved being assaulted by the seemingly endless airplay of a song by Rupert Holmes, called “Escape (The PiÃ±a Colada Song)“, a treacly romantic ballad in which a man, bored with his marriage, reads a personal ad by a woman who lays out her requirements for an adventurous, passionate lover:
- If you like PiÃ±a Coladas
- And getting caught in the rain
- If you’re not into yoga
- If you have half a brain
- If you’d like making love at midnight
- In the dunes on the Cape
- Then I’m the love that you’ve looked for
- Write to me and escape.
He goes to meet the woman in a seedy bar, and discovers her to be his wife; he’d never dreamed that she liked any of that stuff, and the passion in their marriage is reignited as they discover each other all over again.
Five years later, Tipper Gore and the PMRC were sitting in Congress, wondering why all of my generation’s favorite music was about Satan worship and suicide.