In my opinion the best Valentine's Day present I ever gave Dave was a heartfelt rendition of John Prine's In Spite of Ourselves. We first heard the song one Saturday night a few years ago - a friend got married and prepared a CD of love songs for everybody on the guest list. Dave and I, after a few glasses of champagne and a little dancing, came home from the wedding and put in the CD. I'm not sure if it was alcohol induced but when In Spite of Ourselves came on, we laughed and laughed and played it over and over until we knew all the words.
Fastforward one month- instead of grading papers, I sat in my office revising the words to the song to fit Dave and me. I think one part was, "Even though your back's all hairy, you still manage to drive me crazy. You're my baby, I'm your honey, never going to let you go."
Fastforward another month and there I was with my friend Lori, in a practice room at the Hughes Fine Arts Center. She, bless her heart, had figured out how to play the song on the piano and, by doing so, became my official accompianist. I had a cheap tape recorder, my sheet of handwritten notes, and good intentions... just not the voice. After several singing attempts and another attempt at bribing Lori to do the piano playing and the singing (she declined), I finally managed to get through the song and be somewhat satisfied.
A few weeks later, on Valentine's Day, I presented Dave with the typed up lyrics and played the song for him. His only reply, "Geez, you must really love me to put this on tape." Yes, yes I do.
Now, just in case something happens to me all you blog readers need to promise this tape will not suddenly surface at my funeral or anywhere else for that matter. All that would do is prove my 6th grade music teacher correct - no matter how hard I try I certainly can't sing in tune. But, I can, once in a blue moon, give a pretty darn good present.
Fastforward one month- instead of grading papers, I sat in my office revising the words to the song to fit Dave and me. I think one part was, "Even though your back's all hairy, you still manage to drive me crazy. You're my baby, I'm your honey, never going to let you go."
Fastforward another month and there I was with my friend Lori, in a practice room at the Hughes Fine Arts Center. She, bless her heart, had figured out how to play the song on the piano and, by doing so, became my official accompianist. I had a cheap tape recorder, my sheet of handwritten notes, and good intentions... just not the voice. After several singing attempts and another attempt at bribing Lori to do the piano playing and the singing (she declined), I finally managed to get through the song and be somewhat satisfied.
A few weeks later, on Valentine's Day, I presented Dave with the typed up lyrics and played the song for him. His only reply, "Geez, you must really love me to put this on tape." Yes, yes I do.
Now, just in case something happens to me all you blog readers need to promise this tape will not suddenly surface at my funeral or anywhere else for that matter. All that would do is prove my 6th grade music teacher correct - no matter how hard I try I certainly can't sing in tune. But, I can, once in a blue moon, give a pretty darn good present.
That is the cutest story I've ever heard. And Dave's reaction is, well, quintessential Dave.
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