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Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Odds & Ends not in my book, Part 3

Today's offering: a favorite Danny Chrighton story.

Most of you know by now that Danny was my play partner for a few years, when he lived here in L.A. He's still a dear friend, even though he lives in CO now. I wrote about him at length in my book, but here's a little tidbit that didn't make it.

We shared an appreciation for Rat Pack-style music, especially Dean Martin. He knew my favorite Dino song is "Memories Are Made Of This" -- when Shadow Lane had their "Brat Pack" party a few years ago, I'd requested that song. (I believe Danny's favorite was "Sway," if I'm remembering correctly.)

Anyway, cut to a private house spanking party we attended one Saturday night. It was a fun, lively gathering, back in the day when L.A. had a great party scene. Our host was in a band, and he and his bandmates were playing for us in the garage.

After the band stopped and most of the people had meandered back inside to eat, play, etc., Danny wandered over and picked up one of the guitars. I knew he could play and sing -- he'd brought a guitar to his first SL party and played on the stage with Bob the DJ. Still, I couldn't resist teasing him. "Hey, put that down. It's not a toy."

He just smiled at me, then began to play. I recognized the song immediately -- "Memories Are Made Of This."

He sang the entire song, start to finish. Knew all the chords, all the lyrics. Some others came back in and a small crowd gathered. But he was playing to me.

I don't know if he always knew the song, or if he learned it after he found out it was my favorite. Doesn't matter. No man had ever sung to me before. Let me tell you, it's a really lovely experience.

When the song was over, people clapped, and there was a chorus of "Danny, I didn't know you could play!" "Wow, that was great!" etc. I stood back, waiting for the group to disperse once again. Then I walked over to Danny and whispered three words:

"Play with me."

More than anything at that moment, I wanted to be over his lap, feeling the intensity of that same hand that had just strummed out a song I loved. He took my hand and led me back into the house, and we found a private area to have an intense spanking scene. Lovely.

"Sweet sweet, the memories you gave to me..."

In case y'all don't know the song, here it is: (click on the arrow, then on the link "Watch This on YouTube")

17 comments:

  1. What a really charming story. Thanks for sharing!

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  2. Craig -- thanks! It was fun to recall.

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  3. WOW Erica that was so LOVELY of Danny to sing you a song :-)and it was for you only and for no one else :-)I really enjoyed reading this thank's VERY much for sharing :-)You must miss him alot since he moved :-( Love you my dear friend,big hug's to you xoxo from your naughty girl Jade

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  4. Jade -- I do miss him, but he's quite happy these days, and that makes me happy. :-)

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  5. Very nice experience and I like that song, too. I thought about my DH as I listened to it. I have some good memories.

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  6. Bobbie Jo -- I don't know what it is about that song, but I loved it even as a kid.

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  7. That song makes me melt. It deserves a sweet story, and you gave it one.

    XX,

    Pink

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  8. Pink -- (beaming) Ah, thank you.

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  9. A man singing and playing with guitar... *swoons* What a lovely memory.

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  10. Lea -- :-) Yeah, it's a keeper.

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  11. Stories like this make me smile. Thank you for sharing.

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  12. Stealth -- I'm glad you liked it. :-)

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  13. What a lovely story Erica. Thank you for sharing.

    'Sway' is my favourite Dean Martin song.

    Have a wonderful weekend.

    Love,
    Ronnie
    xx

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  14. Aw, that is a great memory for me too, my Erica... good ol' Dino. Didn't he babysit you with Marty Feldman sometimes? I imagine it like that.

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  15. And you were right, I do like "Sway" quite a bit, just haven't learned it on guitar yet. When I put a new band together with some guys from work, we'll do it.

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  16. Danny -- LOL! No, he didn't babysit me. I never got to meet him. As for Marty Feldman, that's a completely different story. Perhaps I'll have to write about him soon.

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