With eight number one hits under his belt, the best shag haircut in the business and an armoire chock-full of fans’ panties, collected over his 30 plus years touring the world, I cordially invite Daryl Hall, the better half of rock and roll duo Hall & Oates to dinner. While I suggest an intimate bistro in the city, Daryl insists on dinner under the stars on the veranda of his palatial estate. While his butler pours two snifters of Courvoisier, Daryl starts the fire himself using only flint and steel, as his rugged masculinity is matched only by the Bounty Paper Towel Guy or maybe Bear Grylls.
Brushing a rogue hair from his brow, he politely asks about my hobbies and my line of work. But nay, I will have none of that. He has far too many tales to share, like how he sacrificed so many years of his life to perfect the dance moves in “The Jingle Bell Rock” music video. Ever so humble, Daryl deftly steers the conversation to his prized 1913 hobo nickel, avid numismatic that he is. I will not, I cannot squander these precious few moments on inane banter.
We are interrupted by the arrival of dinner. Between bites of his pork tenderloin, prepared medium rare (for Daryl Hall fears nothing, not even tapeworm) he speaks of his inspirations, his proud moments, favorite memories of the road and plans for the future. Is Daryl Hall talking or are angels singing? Essentially there is no difference.
And just like that our evening has come to a close. I fear I will never see him again but in my dreams, and maybe on his internet series ‘Live from Daryl’s House’.
confessions of a recovering mouthbreather 