Duke C #11, you are doing good! Love me some Marvin Gaye! Used to drive through the night in West Texas with the likes of this blasting out on the radio.
In the eighties, I spent two weeks in the mountains of Pennsylvania as an engineer studying what to do with regards to civil defense, you know, if the big bombs fell. Between the two weeks of training, I stayed in the apartment of friends in the Village in NYC. On the way there, I decided to drive through the Civil and Revolutionary war landscape of East Pennsylvania to Philadelphia before hitting the Interstate to Manhattan. Of course, it took a lot longer than I thought it would. As I drove into Philadelphia way after dark, I found myself driving along with the interstate highways above me with no apparent way to get up there, you know the story, where is an on ramp when you need it? I was driving along one of the grand old boulevards of Philadelphia where the moguls of industry used to live. Those grand old houses were now reduced to being tenements with men gathered around fifty five gallon oil drums filled with debris burning ... not a place, I thought, I should be. I thought I would soon find a way to get on that highway, besides, I had a Philadelphia radio station with this very album blasting out from beginning to end. I pulled up to a stop light at an intersection ... and my rental car stalled. Some of the men at one of the burning drums stopped, and came over towards my obviously out of place rental car. My driver side window was down, and Marvin Gaye was belting out "Mercy, Mercy, Me!" from my rental car radio. As I looked out at the closest man who was coming toward me ... my poor excuse for a rental car abruptly started ... He looked back at his friends ... he turned back at me, he smiled, and he pointed to the almost invisable on ramp beyond the intersection. I must say that I have spent substantial time in poor neighborhoods, ghettos and such. In a previous life of mine, I worked for some time in LBJ's anti-poverty programs. I will tell you though, that in that night in Philadelphia, I never felt so protected as I was then by Saint Marvin Gaye.