What's Love Got To Do With ME?

I told you about the time some friends and I, the first week I was out of the Navy, went to the Royal Peacock in Atlanta to see Ike and Tina Turner sing and shake their bodies. Tina was dazzling. A few years later, now married, Anna and I, and her office companion Pat and her husband Allen went to the Atlanta Jazz Festival at the Braves Stadium in Atlanta. Ike and Tina Turner was billed to be one of the groups performing. When it came their time they hit the stage singing and rocking. I did what any fool would do, jump up and try to get a good picture of Tina. When I jumped up I completely forgot about the beer in my lap. The beer, let loose to gravity, toppled onto the finely groomed hair of the lady sitting in front of us. Her husband or boyfriend angry jumped up and reached for his pocket. Allen, with a look of hatred, reached for his pocket. Smarter minds prevailed. Anna and Pat jumped in with towels and napkins and started cleaning the lady and gibing her money for dry cleaning and a little “extra” for their discomfort. They found that an acceptable arrangement. Today channel surfing we came across the biography of Tina Turner, WHAT’S LOVE GOT TO DO WITH IT? Which reminded me of the night I was almost cleaned like a catfish.