"Gloria"

The title's in quotes to let you know that "Gloria" is a song title and does not name anyone from my past (although in this case I really wish I could name names). And to be clear, I'll be referring to Laura Branigan version as it's the only one I ever heard. In fact, if you don't know it then you might want to take a moment to find it and take a listen. You can hear it free online (via google) or if you've got a copy of "Grand Theft Auto: Vice City Stories" it plays on FLASH FM regularly - just don't start mowing down hookers willy-nilly while you do. I'll wait...


Good...not a bad song eh? It was recorded in 1982 so I would have been seven years old but I didn't hear it for the first time until I was ten. See, Mom had traded me and my brother to a fat guy in Eganville in exchange for a week of peace and quiet. Ostensibly, we were there to keep his three young niece's company but I think back and remember some strain around Dad's eyes and maybe there was some deeper current moving underneath. Regardless, the fat guy managed an holistic retreat in the wilds around Eganville and the girls were going stir crazy so he came with his brother-in-law to pick us up and take us in to meet them.

There were three of them...I don't remember their names but the oldest and youngest were sisters and the middle one was a cousin. I don't think they thought too much of us at first. My brother and I were devout Mormon boys and these girls were straight out of Babylon - we had no idea what to expect from each other. Anyway...we were left completely unsupervised for long periods of time in the main lodge with a big screen satellite TV and stereo system. The girls had a tape of 80's hits and "Gloria" was the first track on the A side. I'll tell you that what happened next changed my life forever.

See, they wanted to dance for us and said so with many giggles and sideways glances. (Apparently, this is something that girls do when they're together and feeling wicked...they dance.) They kept asking us if we liked dancing and if we'd ever seen girls dance for just us. For shit's sake, these were the first girls we had ever met outside of school and the prim confines of Church besides our sisters...we were ten and nine. I was totally in the fucking dark. But when I tried to ask my brother if it was OK he didn't even look at me...he kept his eyes on the oldest and nodded - completely stunned.

So they put the tape in and "Gloria" starts pouring out the speakers. Immediately the girls start light stomping to the beat and moving their hips. They must have danced to this song together before because they had a routine down. In fact, if you google videos for this song you'll find a Much More Music's Retro Video Dance party version of the song. Look it up and watch the lovely Miss Laura Branigan dance...that's what the girls were doing. They lip synced the song as well...at least the oldest did and whenever she sang along to the "and you really don't remember...was it something that he said...or the voices in your head calling Gloria" lines she'd do a little shirt lift and rub at her hair which (for some unknown reason) had me feeling pretty fine in my pants. Of course the supposedly stoic Mormon boys pretended not to like it but I, at least, refused to get up off the couch for a while after they had stopped. And when I finally managed (at the insistence of the oldest) it was only to accompany her out to the spring house for some exploring (wink wink, nudge nudge, how's your father).

I write this not as a brag but as a plea for help. See, I've always wondered what happened to those girls from that summer 25 years ago and I'm sort of ashamed that I can't remember their names. There's a hope burning in me somewhere near my pants that one of them will read this some day and remember the boys they met that week at Uncle Bob and Aunt Betty-Anne's place. Maybe then I could apologize to the middle one for going out to the spring house with her cousin and tell her that the quiet game of trivial pursuit we played under the pool table remains one of the strongest sense impressions of my life. Maybe all I'll ever have to remember of them is "Gloria."

But I hope not.