BIKER DREAM
Borne 2 Be While — Beget Your Motor Runnin’
A Wordle-salad parody of ‘Born to Be Wild’ by Steppenwolf
At age 12, I spent the summer with my dad and stepmother Ruth in married student housing in Cheney, home of Eastern Washington University. Another teacher Ruth knew was taking classes too, staying in a dorm with her daughter Lisa. Lisa and I hung out in the dorm’s lobby, with the free jukebox.
When we weren’t blasting “Born to Be Wild,” we were blare-ing “Lola” by The Kinks while dance-ing our hearts out. People exited the lobby quickly but no one curtailed our fun.
Back in the Tri-Cities, my brother had a motor-cycle, and so did the next-door neighbor, Jim. Lisa and I rode two-up with them out to the desert. What fun!
That has nothing to do with Wordle. Back then we did crossword puzzles — on paper. Stone Age video games existed but I never played one. The internet wasn’t even a twinkle in Al Gore’s eye, and Lola — you’ve come a long way, baby. So have we all, who grew up in the 1970s.
Beget your motor runnin’ Heady on the thigh-way Alert for adventure If it ever droll our day
Hey, honey gonna make it ripen Quake the earth in a lover place Shoot all of your craps at once And erupt into space
Enjoy smoke and lightnin’ Heavy metal thunder Racer with the windy And the wheeling that we’re under
Hey, angel gonna be a titan Stake the earth in a turbo place Shoot all of your craps at once And erupt into grace
Liken truer nature style We were borne Borne to be while We can reach so high But never edify
Borne to be while Borne to be while
Beget your motor rerun Ahead on reply-way Alert for adventure In our motor-cycle horseplay
Hey, sugar gonna make it ripen Shake the earth in a dirty place Shoot all of your craps at once And erupt with no trace
Liken truer nature guile We were borne Borne to be while We can mount so high But never edify
Borne to be while Borne to be while
I lost track of Lisa after her wedding in 1982 and don’t know her last name. Welch? Hawley? Schmidt? Jones?
After decades of no contact postdivorce, I called Ruth in January 2000 to convey that Dad died. She told me Lisa’s biological father had killed her abusive husband, but she no longer could reach Lisa’s mother.
Life is weirder than a soap opera. So am I, in Wordle stories.
More Boomer humor. From Carol Lennox
From Amy Sea
From David Martin
From moi — editor fairy
