Frankly, I blame it on the Bossa Nova.
I was eight years old in 1963, the year Eydie Gormé had a big hit with a song by the same name.
The Fifties ended in Dallas on November 22, 1963. The Sixties began in New York City on February 9, 1964.
America and the world would never be the same.
Now, I like Eydie Gormé. I grew up listening to Steve & Eydie. I am a huge fan. And I am sure if she knew the strife and upheaval that would be unleashed upon the world by the release of that fateful song, she would never have done it.
How could she have had any idea that future generations would condemn her as the spark that set everything ablaze?
She had no idea. She couldn’t have.
That is why I must stand up and with a clear, strong voice pledge my unwavering support for Eydie Gormé.
And to those detractors and haters who looked to blame her for the ills that beset the country for the next ten years, they get nothing from me except the pursed lips and the censorious glance.
Eydie Gormé is not responsible for what happened to JFK, despite crackpot conspiracy theorists who place her on the grassy knoll. She is not to blame for talking Ed Sullivan into booking the Beatles, whose music rotted the minds of our youth and left them defenceless against the ‘British Invasion’, rock music and ultimately to LSD, madness and death. I don’t hold her personally responsible, as so many others do, for the Tet Offensive, the Watergate burglaries and Kent State.
I don’t blame you, Eydie.
I blame it on the Bossa Nova.