BEAUTY SHOP TALK

by

Vicki Charmaine Bunch

Everybody at the beauty shop is talking about the 1999 Christmas Book from Neiman Marcus. It's got dog clothes and Hula Hoops and $800 shoes. The weirdest gift of all, though, is the customized song written just for you. Composed by "America's preeminent dance-band leader" Peter Duchin, the song can commemorate a birthday, anniversary, wedding or whatever. The $35,000 price tag includes lunch with Duchin at 21, a CD of your song, and the handwritten words and music.

"I'd do it if it was Merle Haggard," Earlene Whitehead said. "Who's ever heard of that guy?"

"I think he performs on the country club circuit," said Juanita Stallings, getting up from the sink. "Rich people are the only ones who could afford to commission their own song."

"Seems like it would be hard to write about somebody you hardly know," I said, combing out Juanita's tangles. "Maybe you could have a questionnaire and ask their bra size, favorite food, and personal trainer's name."

"You should ask her dog's name, too," Earlene suggested. "And whether she wears a girdle."

"Let me try," I said, putting Earlene under the dryer. "Happy New Year to Mrs. C. Winston Harris/she likes to play bridge and shop in Paris/her weakness is foies gras and Mimosas at brunch/she has to eat brunch cause she's passed out by lunch." Everybody applauded and I felt encouraged. "Charlotte Lorraine is a quite a royal pain/ she likes to sing country and vacation in Spain/her husband divorced her and took the Rolls-Royce/her chest is like Dolly's but she has a bad voice."

"That's pretty good," Juanita Stallings said. "But not as good as when Frankie Lane sang 'Jezebel.' 'If ever a devil was born/without a pair of horns/it was you/Jezebel, it was you.' That used to just scare the daylights out of me."

"What about 'Ruby Don't Take Your Love To Town'?" Earlene shouted. "That poor Kenny Rogers must have known a woman exactly like Ruby."

"I bet you're right," I said. "Remember 'Louie, Louie' and 'Puff, the Magic Dragon' and 'Maybellene'? And 'G-L-O-R-I-A'? And Michael Jackson singing 'Billie Jean is not my lover'. They'll never make songs like that again."

"What about 'On Top of Old Smokey'?" said Juanita, lighting a cigarette. "A song has to come from your heart, not your pocketbook. Think of the really great ballads that were written about people, songs like 'Big Bad John'. You would have to really know somebody to create lyrics like that."

"I wish somebody would write a song about me," Earlene yelled, adjusting her curlers. "Something like 'Oh, my darlin' Clementine.' I love the part about 'her shoes are number 9.'"

"A guy made up a song about me," I said. "I was walking down the street in Austin and a guy rode up to me on a bicycle. A total stranger. He asked what my name was. Then he rode around me in circles singing 'Icky Vicki high school chicky' over and over until I started crying."

"That's not really a very good song," Earlene said.

Not worth $35,000 anyway.