Dream Songs & Michele/Tiger

Lately, I’ve risen into those middle-of-the-night moments somewhere between waking and dreaming and heard old songs—very old songs—and I know all the lyrics. The words are all more crystal clear half asleep than they’d be if I tried to call them up during the day. Weird. Last night, around 4:00, I half awakened and started listening to someone sing “I Could Write a Book.” I couldn’t quite make out who was singing, maybe me, but all the lyrics were there. Such a simple little song from a long time ago. At first, I couldn’t even figure out the title. I mean, it shows up only once and not even at the beginning. “If they asked me, I could write a book, about the way you walk and whisper and look. I could write the preface on how we met so the world would never forget. And the simple secret of the plot is just to tell them that I love you a lot. Then the world discovers as my book ends, how to make two lovers of friends.” In my half sleep, I guessed it was a Rogers and Hart song, probably from an early musical, but I couldn’t remember which one. In the morning I resorted to that immense source of information, the Wonderful Web, and learned that, yes, it was Rogers and Hart, from Pal Joey, sung most memorably by Frank Sinatra and Harry Connick, Jr. And then in my inner musical ear I heard both versions. I wonder if I’ll continue to hear old song lyrics in my sleep. I hope so. It keeps me entertained during a rather boring time of the night.

Watching Michele Wie these past few weeks, watching her finally rising to the potential we all knew she had, I wondered what effect her unique putting stance would have on all the amateur male and female golfers who have been watching her. I think there’d be a huge contingent who’d like to try out her ninety degree bend from the waist but are afraid to do so at their local putting greens for fear someone would see them and burst out laughing. And while I’m on the subject of golf, Tiger’s return last weekend didn’t tell us much about how he might do in the future. He and the analysts in the booth called it just rust on his game, but I hope it’s rust and not some physical or mental rot. He won’t play competitively until the Open at Hoylake in three weeks. Hoylake is where he won in 2006, with hard brown fairways and greens, where he chose to hit driver only once in four rounds, instead hitting those famous 2-iron stingers off the tees, keeping his tee shots out of those dreadful bunkers. Maybe conditions will be the same this year. No one can hit long stinger irons as well as Tiger, even when he’s a bit rusty.