Foxy Lady

It was the mid sixties when a young soulful cat penned what I consider to be one of the sexiest ballads of all time. Simple, rhythmic and somewhat carnal. You see, Hendrix was inspired, not by a greater power or a deeper understanding, it was a common garden variety crush. That feeling we humans get from time to time, the one that bites you on the proverbial ass when you least expect it.

The second date was a screaming mad rocking success, just in case you were still unclear, with none of the glaring warning signs I have grown weary of. This dirty city that has become my home offers so much choice, staggering beauty at the dirty alt club I frequent. She kisses with her whole body, eyes deep and naughty, my favorite.

This is me suffering my crush and I challenge you to do the same, these blissful moments that ultimately ensure the survival of the species. This my drug, the thrill of the chase.

Hendrix later said that Foxy Lady was his only happy song, so we need to go out and and write our music before the cracks appear, for a crush is as whimsical as it is fleeting.