With due respect to the men who passed years ago aboard the Edmund Fitzgerald

With due respect to the men who passed years ago aboard the Edmund Fitzgerald, I've found that there is always "That Guy."  You know the one: the guy who has to do everything the hard way. This is the guy who does not know about technology.  He doesn't know that his life, and the lives of those around him, do not need to be affected by his lack of preparation.

So, I thought I'd write some lyrics to the tune of Gordon Lightfoot's,The Wreck of The Edmund Fitzgerald. But this is a redemption story, similar to Dicken's, A Christmas Carol.  So, sing it in your head, or out loud if you prefer. It's sea shanty, so maybe a parrot on your shoulder and an eyepatch would be appropriate. Be careful if you choose to bring either with you into the shower.

Cheers to saving "That Guy." Enjoy!

- Barry

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The Wreck of the Date with Hot Carol

The legend lives on about a man who drank poor

But was embarrassed for his friends to know it.

The man was so sad, cuz he always drank bad

He’d forget to shop Broudy’s and blow it!

With a hankering for a craft beer and some more

Of the spirits and wines Broudy’s features.

This good man’s friends were born to be sad

When he’d buy from some dive near the beaches.

Broudy’s is the pride of Florida’s east side

They’re better than most

With a staff of experts to help you.

And whether rum or some rye, you know when you buy

That its come from a warehouse well seasoned.

And later at home when dinner is done

Could it be for the Bailey’s you’re jonesin’?

Champagne in a flute makes a tattletale sound

Bubbles add depth to romances

And every man knows, as our poor drinker did, too,

You need Dom to improve on your chances.

The guy had a date and he just couldn’t wait

To get bottles on ice for quick chillin’.

He’d get shopping done but it wouldn’t be fun

In the face of St. Augustine traffic.

When the work whistle blew, the man’s boss came on in, sayin’

Fella, overtime’s callin’

At eleven PM, with the wine still not on ice, he said

Fella, cancel the date with that woman.

The man who drinks poor rarely settles a score

And he knew that his date was in peril

And later that night with no champagne in sight

Came the Wreck of His Date with Hot Carol.

Does anyone know where the love of God goes

When your work turns the minutes to hours?

The smart guys all say the wine would’ve been saved

If he’d used Broudys dot com to buy it.

He might have bought Dom. He might have picked Brut

He might have served Carol whisky and water.

But all that remains are the faces and names

Of dates, Coulda, Shoulda and Oughtta.

The beaches wait, lit by the moon

Their waves wash on the sand so serenely

The inlets and streams are the stuff of men’s dreams

Women like all for date venues

But order online, you’re sure to find

The better drinks that you want are for shipping

And the smart guys know, as the smart guys all go

To Broudys.com to buy what they’re sipping.

In a candle lit room in St. Augustine they cheered

For the guy who once was a loser.

They cheered for the site and they cheered for the guy

Now a Broudys dot com power user.

The legend lives on but the curse is all gone,

The date’s back on with the girl called Hot Carol,

Broudy’s, it’s said, is the place that you’re led

Because Life’s Short and You Should Drink Better.