Mr. Clean
I was introduced to this song circa 1995/6, by my friend Nate. As was typical in those days, he put it on a mix tape for me.
Someone told me Bill Withers was a janitor before he was signed as a recoding artist. I think they were thinking of Kris Kristofferson, but let's not let the truth be the enemy of a good blog post.
Little Nate (as we called him, to differentiate him from another friend, Big Nate) impressed the hell out of me for sticking around the morning after one of my parties to help clean up. He got down to business quietly and matter of factly, putting all the dining room chairs on top of the dining table so he could sweep and mop underneath. I'd never once thought to do that, to clean so thoroughly. It was a small gesture, but it made an impression on me.
Little Nate was, as my friend Becca would have put it then, a bit of a drunk. I wonder if he's still as committed to the whiskey as he was then.
Here's to you Nate. I hope someone is hoisting the chairs up onto the tables and making sure the floor gets a good mopping for you - metaphorically, or hell, literally, why not.
Someone told me Bill Withers was a janitor before he was signed as a recoding artist. I think they were thinking of Kris Kristofferson, but let's not let the truth be the enemy of a good blog post.
Little Nate (as we called him, to differentiate him from another friend, Big Nate) impressed the hell out of me for sticking around the morning after one of my parties to help clean up. He got down to business quietly and matter of factly, putting all the dining room chairs on top of the dining table so he could sweep and mop underneath. I'd never once thought to do that, to clean so thoroughly. It was a small gesture, but it made an impression on me.
Little Nate was, as my friend Becca would have put it then, a bit of a drunk. I wonder if he's still as committed to the whiskey as he was then.
Here's to you Nate. I hope someone is hoisting the chairs up onto the tables and making sure the floor gets a good mopping for you - metaphorically, or hell, literally, why not.
Comments
Post a Comment