A few posts ago I made a veiled reference to Carly Simon's song "You're So Vain." Ever since I made that post I've been thinking about that song, and I've even listened to it a couple of different times. And what struck me about the song is this: I feel sorry for the poor schmuck who is the subject of of the song. Thanks to Simon's tight lipped reluctance to reveal who the subject is, the fellow has been getting roundly abused for almost 40 years now with no chance to defend himself.
That doesn't seem fair, and so, I decided that I would write a rebuttal letter for this poor soul. And here it is:
Dear Carly,
It has come to my attention that, after nearly 4 decades of mystery, you have finally revealed the subject of your song "You're So Vain." You can imagine my shock when I found that I was revealed as the subject of your song. While I find the whole matter flattering, I nonetheless feel compelled to correct several assertions that you have made in your song.
First, at no time and in no way did I ever think that the song was about me. Like pretty much everyone else, I assumed that the song was about Warren Beatty. Why, Carly, would I ever think the song was about ME? You and I went on one date. ONE! At that was in 1967, five years before the song came out! And it was hardly even a date. We met for coffee after a friend of mine insisted that I meet you, told me how hip you were, and that I would love you. So we met at a diner on the corner of some street in New York City, and I regretted the meeting almost instantly. First, we looked ridiculous together, me in my business suit, and you in your bell bottoms, love beads, and tie-dye shirt. "Well, don't we make a pretty pair," I said just after hellos, as a way to break the tension.
You grabbed both of my hands hard and stared into my eyes with an over earnest look and said, "Do we? Do we really?" It was a little freaky, to be honest, and I decided then and there that, out of respect for my friend, I would sit and talk for a few minutes, but that I'd get out of there as soon as I could.
It was a miserable twenty minutes. Every time I'd try to talk about something sensible, like the war in Viet Nam or the economy, you'd start going on about something ridiculous, like shapes you could see in your coffee, or dreams you'd had the night before and what they might mean. As soon as I found an opening, I said, "Carly, this has been lovely, but I'm going to need to leave. I'm in kind of a hurry and--"
"--Yes, yes!" you interrupted. "Let's hurry out of here now. Let's leave without paying the check. Let's go back to my house and spend the rest of the day talking and--"
I stopped you, told you that I would never leave a restaurant without paying, and then I got up, paid the waitress, and walked out. That was the last time I ever saw you.
Second, I've only been to the Saratoga race track once, and that was in--oh, I'm not sure--but it was either 1971 or 1972, years after our date! How long were you following me? And yes, I was unbelievably lucky that day, and my horse won almost every race. But how close were you to me to know that? The more I think about your song, the more it freaks me out!
Third, it really bothers me, Carly, that you make me out to be some flamboyant, conceited, wealthy person. I'm not part of the uber-rich. I went to Nova Scotia because it's where my family on my mother's side originated, and I was trying to get back to my roots. It just happened that my visit coincided with a total eclipse of the sun. And I flew there business class! I don't own a Lear jet, and I've never been on a yacht, so I have no idea what I'd look like walking onto one. And as far as my scarf being apricot goes--I like bold colors. Get over it.
Oh, and I had to look up the word "gavotte" just now, so I'm pretty sure that--no matter what party you're referring to in the song--I wasn't doing that.
Finally, I can now only assume that you are the Carl E. Simmons that keeps sending me friend requests on Facebook. Please, Carly, leave me alone. Get on with your life. To quote from one of your own songs, "I haven't got time for the pain."
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