Music In My Ears: Bell Bottom Blues

This week I've been listening to a lot of my "Clapton et. al." playlist. (The et. al. because it includes songs he recorded as Cream, Blind Faith, and Derek and the Dominoes.) Several years ago, Mom bought his autobiography, as well as the autobiography of Pattie Boyd, ex-wife to both he and George Harrison. They were both well-written, unfailingly honest, and entertaining.

While I initially mocked Mom for buying a book written by a "groupie," I immediately changed my opinion after reading about Boyd; she is not remotely a groupie. Aside from the fact that she is a talented artist and photographer in her own right, she also served as a muse to two of the greatest singer-songwriters of the past century and inspired four of the greatest love songs: "Something" by Harrison, and "Layla," "Wonderful Tonight," and "Bell Bottom Blues" by Clapton. The latter being my second favorite love song ever. (The first being "Crazy Love" by Van Morrison.)

If you know the song, or know its history, you may not consider it a love song; he wrote it for Boyd after he cheated on her. But I can't help it. I'm not a romantic person and have no patience for the flowery true-love-soul-mate-my-life-was-nothing-before-you stuff. It's just not realistic to me. I'm not saying cheating and writing a song is the way to go, but damn, he just sings it so painfully and so powerfully, I want him to crawl across the floor for me. (Even though, given my commitment issues, I'd probably run screaming in the opposite direction.)

I haven't felt the crawl-across-the-floor love in the romantic sense, but I do love people, my family and friends, who I've hurt a time or two. And I'd gladly crawl across the floor for them.

Do you want to see me crawl across the floor to you?

Do you want to hear me beg you to take me back?

I'd gladly do it because I don't want to fade away. 

Give me one more day, please. 

I don't want to fade away. 

In your heart I want to stay.