This lives in Lil' Joe's Pleasure Lounge
(aka the barn that belongs to Lone
Sharks bass player Joe Lauro), a party
space par excellence!
Jukeboxes are still around, but somehow
the music's just not as good as it was when
a dime could get you Don't Be Cruel AND the
B side (Hound Dog, of course).
It was 1967. We were in a rather good greasy-spoon diner in some hick highway stop near Saugus in SoCal. I was intent on my large plate of fries, occasionally wiping from several joints of all of the fingers (and thumb) on my right hand oily salt on any number of now crumpled napkins. A friend went up to the jukebox with some coins. "Holy shit! Look at this name!"
ReplyDeleteThat was the first time I had ever been exposed to Englebert Humperdink.
This is the Pavlovian memory that arises at the mention of the word "jukebox."
I love this so nostalgic photo. When I was very small, diners in Pennyslvania often had table-top jukeboxes. I remember begging for nickels to drop in...
ReplyDelete