Many years ago, as we were struggling to find an impromptu campsite after our first choice fell through near the City of Rocks, we happened across a spot on the shores of a reservoir, not far from other campers.
A slightly unhinged woman from the group stomped over to suggest we leave, as the site was theirs, inviolate, and they were expecting others.
To prove her point, she played some Gordon Lightfoot at high volume, hoping to inspire us to leave.
We did leave, not because of the Gordon Lightfoot, but because she struck us as the type who'd back over our tent with us in it.
Since then, every time I hear Gordon Lightfoot sing -- and I really enjoy his music -- I fet a little frisson of adrenaline, remembering the Unhinged Boat Shoe-Wearing Lightfoot Fan on the Shores of Oakley Reservoir.
Thanks for the memories, Mr. Lightfoot. Even the slightly scary ones.
She tried to scare us off with this, as I recall. Which is chillingly ironic:
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