"I've decided to make some big money by being a writer," my neighbor Babble said to me. "From looking at you, I figure it can't be that hard."
Best of luck to you, Babble, I said. What are you writing?
"A best-selling novel, of course. That's what brings in the big bucks, right?"
Correct. So, what do you figure will be a best-seller?
"Something like what's already a best-seller, obviously. Isn't the biggest book of the past year that '50 Shades of Grey' thing?"
It's big, all right. In fact, it's a hot-selling trilogy, spawning bunches of imitators and even parodies. But, Babble, it's an erotic novel, about a man and a woman doing naughty things. Imaginative, but naughty.
"Yeah, and I hear it's women readers who are snapping it up. Gee, and you and I always thought women were sweet, refined, pure-minded beings, who would never let a smutty thought cross their minds."
We did think that, but I guess there must be some exceptions. Hey, you're not writing a dirty book, are you?
"Heck, no. Instead of sex, my book will exploit the only other obsession with such a powerful, inescapable hold upon people."
Which is …
"Baby Boomer nostalgia, of course."
Baby Boomer nostalgia?
"You know we Boomers can't stop obsessing about what an incomparable time it was, in those long-ago decades when we were young and hip. I figure there's a page-turner in that."
With that, Babble handed me his manuscript. The title page read:
"50 SHADES OF HARVEST GOLD AND AVOCADO"
"She allowed him to lead her into the kitchen," it began. "She said, 'Do we really have time for this? You know the Sonny and Cher show will be on in half an hour.'
"'Don't worry,' he replied. 'It'll only take a minute to do the Jiffy Pop popcorn.' Suavely, he reached for a glass and poured her a Tab.
"What, she wondered, was it that had first attracted her to him? Was it the way he danced the hustle? Or was it his hip, with-it dress: the five-inch-wide paisley tie, the jacket with lapels wide enough to land helicopters on? Or, when he dressed casually, the tie-dyed shirt that went so well with the elephant bell-bottoms?
"Clearly, this was going to be a special evening, and she was glad she had ironed her hair beforehand.
"'No TV tonight,' he informed her. 'We're going to the anti-Vietnam protest downtown. It's being put on by the Student Violent Non-Coordinating Committee. And I have something special planned tonight.'
"She gasped as she saw what he was holding in his hands. 'Why, you've brought … a pair of handcuffs!' she cried. 'Are you going to …'
"'Yes,' he smiled. 'We're going to handcuff ourselves to the door of the Selective Service office. Then the cops can't drag us away.'
"Her heart was beating wildly as she fingered her macramé handbag. It was the thrill of something forbidden, something violent. She knew she should be wishing for Alan Alda, but she couldn't keep away the fantasies about Dirty Harry.
"As he unpeeled the foil from the Jiffy Pop, the strains of their special song, the song that was playing when they first met, kept going through her mind: '… with Gilligan, the skipper too, the millionaire and his wife …'
"His voice snapped her out of her reverie. 'Hadn't you noticed,' he said, 'how I've redecorated the kitchen?'
"She looked around her. Oh! Yes! she thought. The avocado-colored refrigerator! The harvest-gold range! And was that a fondue pot on the shelf? So new, so stylish, so hip! She could restrain herself no longer. She whispered her secret desire: to be hurt, to feel pain.
"'Here's pain for you,' he hissed. 'The Sixties are over and it's now the Seventies. The Beatles have broken up, and we're left with the Partridge Family.'
"A moan escaped her lips.
"'And if that's not painful enough,' he added, 'we can put the TV on and listen to a speech by Vice President Spiro Agnew.'
"'Aaaahhhhh …"
"Afterwards, he soothed her with the comfort she craved above all others: a big bowl of Lipton's Onion-Soup-Mix California Dip."
Babble took the manuscript back from me. "What do you think?" he asked.
It has promise, I said. But you know, it probably will sell better if you put just a bit of sex into it. Are you going to have a sex scene?
"Sure. That's in the chapter where they buy a waterbed."
Reach Tony at tgabriele@dailypress.com.
