A couple weeks ago, I went to do my laundry, and took my customy sojourn to the bar across the street during the dry cycle and, as is also my custom, I pumped the jukebox. →[More:]

The guy next to me, a lug in his mid-50's, like my choice of songs and we got to talking music. He told me that his uncle had been the drummer in the Soul Survivors, a Jersey-based bunch of blue-eyed soul one-hit wonders who's big hit was this classic number. He seemed kind of impressed that somebody my age even knew who they were and we jawboned a while more. I haven't seen him since and nobody in the bar ever remembers seeing him before. Was he telling a barroom tall-tale? who knows. But it kind of shows me in one fell swoop what's so cool about New York City, bars, and being a music geek.