She was five-foot-six, two-fifteen
A bleached-blonde mama with a streak of mean . . .
Well she might be nasty, she might be fat
But I never met a person who would tell her that.
I went to the roller derby last Saturday. My first time. I’d been dying to go ever since I found out one of Tim’s Portland coworkers was in a league. I was finally in town for a bout. Our friend is at least five-foot-six, but I’m guessing she doesn’t hit the scales at even one-fifteen. I’m also guessing that the weight differential between the lightest and heaviest out there was a good 150 pounds. That alone was cool.
I love to skate. But before last week, the bulk of my roller derby exposure came from the Jim Croce song.
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6 comments:
Many, many moons ago I went to see Randy Newman in a little club. The opening act was an unknown guy with a biggish nose and a BIG moustache. It was Jim Croce.
He does have quite a magnificent mustache, doesn't he?
I'm shocked to discover they still have roller derbies. I wonder if Skinny Minny Miller is still at it.
Del: What a lineup.
mm: There's been a resurgence.
Isn't there a line about being built like a fridge in that song? Gotta love that Jim Croce...
And the roller derby program said
She was built like a fridgerator with a head...
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