Who's The Black Private Dick That's A Sex Machine To All The Chicks?

Who's the black private dick
That's a sex machine to all the chicks?
SHAFT!
Ya damn right!

Who is the man that would risk his neck
For his brother man?
SHAFT!
Can you dig it?

Who's the cat that won't cop out
When there's danger all about?
SHAFT!
Right On!

They say this cat Shaft is a bad mother
SHUT YOUR MOUTH!
I'm talkin' 'bout Shaft.
THEN WE CAN DIG IT!

He's a complicated man
But no one understands him but his woman
JOHN SHAFT! 

Nice bow tie Isaac, better let Albert Elbaz know that one of his is now missing...

When I was at University I adored Isaac Hayes' song 'Shaft'. It was a running joke between a friend of mine, who we will call Carlos Oppenheimer, because he hates to have his name mentioned. Carlos and I were at Uni at the same time and if he had this one playing on his CD (kids of today, a CD was a round disk you put in a slot to play music) or heard it on the radio, he would call me and force me to listen to it over the mobile phone which was very annoying. 


He did the same with a song called 'Your Love Is King' by Sade but for a different reason.This reason is not fit for a blog, suffice to say I once confessed that I had a very good time by myself listening to this song whilst sitting reclined in my car one lonely night. The last of the songs he used to speed dial me over was Carole King's 'It's too late' and now this is funny.... 


A long time ago I often confused lust for love and I had extreme crushes on women, to the point that I once lost all my confidence over an Icelandic Ice Princess who really had very little to do with the love I bestowed upon her. Many moons later I was over the feelings but then once night I had a pang for the old love I had let go of. Maybe I saw her out and she re-ignited something that had quelled within me. When I lay next to my bed I turned into my pillow and I played my CD clock radio and the first song that came on was 'It's too late'. In a moment of weakness I called her from a private number and played the song, then hung up with a little tear in my eye knowing that I had come to terms that I would never have her. How sad I was and how happy I am now to be able to confess a University story like that without feeling hung up on it!


As a side note, I have asked Carlos Oppenheimer to contribute to this blog and he rejected my advances saying on Whatsapp "Nein, it is all trite and uninteresting. I don't have any wisdom to impart". That might be true, but Carlos has contributed so much already and he deserves credit. Half the new things I stumble upon come from Carlos, but he insists on living in the shadows.