Muskrat Love

In the spring of 1979 I was in 6^th grade. This was my final year of elementary school, and my last year of riding the bus. Being the oldest kids in school had its privileges, one of which was that my friends and I always sat in the coveted seats at the back of the bus. This was prime territory – where everyone wanted to be. And we owned it. Now and then, a brave (or misguided) youngster would attempt to sit there, but a stern look from us was usually all it took to send them sulking back to their snickering friends.

Sometime early that spring, however, things started to go wrong.

Uninvited Guests

One day as we boarded the bus, we saw a group of girls sitting in our seats. We weren’t sure what to think as we made our way down the aisle. Would they move once we got there, or would there be trouble?

One of the girls, who appeared to be their ringleader, was new to the school. She had just moved into some nearby apartments. That particular complex created a revolving door of kids, with boys and girls constantly coming and going during the school year. It represented nearly all the turnover in our normally stable school roster. The ringleader girl was really big for a 6^th grader. She had matured early physically, especially compared to us boys. And she had an attitude, which we could see had influenced her previously quiet and mild-mannered friends to become bold and combative themselves.

This whole thing had obviously been planned in advance. It was a coup, of sorts.

Shocked by this sudden development, my friends and I casually took the nearby seats for the bus ride home that day. I wish I could say we weren’t scared of these girls, but I’m afraid that’s not entirely true. We decided we would get our revenge the following day by getting to the front of the bus line early so we could reclaim our seats. And it worked. Things were back to normal.

But that’s not the end of the story.

War Declared

Although nothing was ever spoken, it was obvious that war had been declared. We battled back and forth for a week or two, until our distinct disadvantage was eventually exposed. The problem for my friends and me was that these girls all had homerooms that were closer to the front of the school. So when the final bell rang for the day, they would always have a jump-start on us.

To make things even worse, the apartments where these girls lived was the last stop on the ride home in the afternoon. So we had to deal with them our entire trip. Then in the morning, the route was reversed and the apartments were the first stop on the ride. So the girls boarded first and got the back seats every morning, as well.

It was a worst-case scenario.

And so our war was lost. But we convinced ourselves that it wasn’t that big of deal. We still got to sit in the second row from the back, which, as a bonus had built-in foot rests formed over the rear wheels of the bus. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad trade-off? We accepted defeat and moved on.

Unfortunately that’s still not the end of the story.

It Gets Worse

You’d think these girls would have been grateful for their victory and satisfied with their prize. But instead, they turned into obnoxious winners. They became loud and annoying, waving to everyone and yelling out the windows. They let everyone know how cool they were, and proclaimed themselves rulers of the bus. They broke all the rules, and completely dominated the conversation. They were so loud that no one else could avoid them.

Our bus driver was an older gentleman, far too mild-mannered to deal with any major issues on the bus. In fact, I don’t think his hearing was very good. We mentioned the situation to him one day, but he replied that these were just cute and harmless young ladies, having a little fun. He thought maybe we should be appreciating them and enjoying the attention they were giving us. What??!

The girls continued their outrageous behavior. They talked about boys and horses and their favorite songs. They talked about sex and how babies were made, using foul language, of course. They talked about anything they knew would annoy or irritate us. And we couldn’t do anything about it.

In fact, the more we tried to quiet them down the louder they became. When we pressed them to the point of confrontation one day, they retaliated by singing in our faces at full volume. And these weren’t just any songs – they were love songs. Yuck! And once they witnessed our repulsed reaction to their singing, it became an everyday occurrence.

Eventually we moved forward a few rows toward the middle of the bus, just to get away. We then found ourselves sitting amongst 9 and 10 year-olds. But at least they were quiet. The girls, however, didn’t let our move slow down their fun. They continued their obnoxious activities, and sang every day. They would sing songs that were current at the time, like Hot Stuff, Sad Eyes, I Will Survive and Chuck E’s in Love. But their favorites were the worst: Reunited and Muskrat Love.

Naturally, I learned to despise all those songs. I wrote them off as music that only annoying, attention-craved, pre-adolescent, horse- and rainbow-loving girls would like. They made me cringe. I vowed to never listen to these horrific songs.

 

Fortunately, summer was only weeks away, and our final month of elementary school flew by. Stepping right into summer vacation, I must have stuffed these memories back into the depths of my subconscious mind, because I completely forgot all about it…

…until a few weeks ago, when I heard Muskrat Love playing on the radio.

A Beautiful Evening

On my way home one evening, I was driving straight into a beautiful sunset that had just begun to fill the western sky with a spectacular assortment of colors. This (twilight) is my favorite time of the day. I love the beauty of this final hour of daylight. And I love the natural transition as the busyness of the daytime is left behind and life slowly transcends into a more tranquil state.

I immediately reached for the stereo when I recognized the song Muskrat Love, by Captain and Tennille. My deep-rooted response was to change the channel, quickly. But for some reason, I hesitated. And it didn’t take me long to realize that the music was a perfect match for my mood. The song wasn’t anything at all like I remembered.

The keyboards were really mellow and soft, and the vocals had a smooth, velvety texture. It was clearly what I call lounge music – the kind of stuff performed in the bar of a dinner club, or at a seaside restaurant in a Florida retirement community. I loved it.

The words to the song were another story.

“Muskrat, muskrat, candlelight
Doin’ the town and doin’ it right
In the evenin’
It’s pretty pleasin’ ”

I’m not sure how someone decided that a song about muskrats getting “romantic” was a good idea for a hit. The lyrics are downright corny. I’m not even sure how Toni Tennille could sing them with a straight face, especially while the Captain (her hubby) was constantly chiming in with silly synthesized jingles, attempting to recreate the sounds of romancing muskrats.

But somehow, she pulls it off. And somehow, the song works. In fact, it works quite well.

Driving down the road I got completely lost. I imagined myself at a place that might play this type of lounge music…

…I’m in a cozy booth in a dark corner, with my Sweetie at my side. We’ve got a soft candle flickering in the middle of our table, which is covered with clean white linen. A bottle of wine and a basket of fresh-baked bread are on their way. Captain and Tennille are set up on a small stage in the opposite corner, right where the bar meets the dining room. It’s a very nice establishment, with great food and excellent service. But one gets the distinct feeling that the best years of this place are in the past. It won’t be there much longer. Sadly, these kinds of places just aren’t popular any longer…

“…Floatin’ like the heavens above
It looks like muskrat love…”

I was suddenly snapped out of my romantic daydream as I heard the chorus of the song. Just like that, my beautiful evening quickly morphed into a nasty bus ride home from school in 1979. I flinched as I recalled those annoying girls and their horrible versions of love songs.

Putting my feelings aside, I thought further on the whole adventure. I couldn’t help but laugh thinking about that specific experience and all the other goofy things I experienced as a kid. What a trip. Those kinds of things would never happen to adults. Which is fine with me. I really wouldn’t want to go through any of that again.

It’s good to know that all that stuff is behind me. And not only that, but I’ve now got some new lounge music to listen to in the evening, as I’m enjoying my favorite time of the day.

Maybe I’ll even request this song sometime…if I can find one of those old-fashioned supper clubs.

Here’s a playful “loungy” live version of Muskrat Love.  Enjoy!