he goes, she goes

taylor swift sings a song called called teardrops on my guitar.  i am not a huge fan of country music, but i kind of like this song.  especially this lyric:

and there he goes, so perfectly

the kind of flawless i wish i could be

only until just now, when i looked it up online, i thought she sang “lawless,” rather than “flawless.”  and i actually rather like it better my way.  but whatever — she’s the songwriter.

then there’s this other song i like, there she goes, by the la’s.


there she goes

there she goes again

she calls my name …

what called all this walking to mind, besides these being a couple of my favorite songs, was watching someone walk out of a building and thinking, “man, he really walks well.”

don’t go staring at me with your eyebrows all wonky, now.  i see you over there trying to pretend you understand what i just said.

okay, here’s what i mean — have you ever known one of those people for whom living just seems effortless?  anything he or she does is more-or-less perfect.  the walking, the clothes, the style, the panache … the living.  yeah.

so it doesn’t make sense if you don’t know someone like that.  but i’m sure you do.

he glided out of the buildling smoothly …

and i clip-clopped out behind, cordurouy pants making cricket noises with every step, scamp sweater blowing in the wind, pippi longstockings braids sticking straight out from my head.  i thought about the perfectly groomed businesswomen i’d seen and known.

but i decided i like being a scamp.

although he is fun to watch.