Tiny Pineapple

ananas comosus (L.) minimus

Pineapple Head by Crowded House

Pineapple Head by Crowded House
Pineapple Head (Clip)

“Pineapple Head,” written by Neil Finn, was included on Crowded House’s 1993 album Together Alone. The image on the left is from the cover of the CD single of “Pineapple Head” that was available in the U.K. and Australia.

Neil Finn talked about the origins of the song in an interview with David Hepworth in the June 1994 issue of Mojo Magazine.

DH: “How do you start a song?”

NF: “I basically rely on getting my first few lines by just singing something and writing it down and not thinking about it at all. So initially I get just a natural image like sky, sea, sun, earth and then something very domestic like washing. The juxtaposition of those things is endlessly interesting.”

DH: “Can you remember the process afterwards?”

NF: “‘Pineapple Head’ is an obvious example. It started with my son Liam who had a fever. He was delirious and I was standing by with a cloth to cool him down and he just started talking about all these things. ‘Pineapple Head! Pineapple Head!’ Then he said ‘detective is flat’ and ‘getaway car’. So instead of staying there and doing what a father should do I ran downstairs and committed it to a song. Until my wife Sharon came in and looked at me in horror and said, ‘What are you doing here?’ At the time you’ve got to go. There’s enough times when the idea pops into your head and you’re not on the ball enough to write it down. Liam’s 11 and I’ve exploited him mercilessly over the years. He wrote the line ‘here comes Mrs. Hairy Legs’ in ‘Chocolate Cake.’”

DH: “So does ‘Pineapple Head’ mean anything?”

NF: “‘Pineapple Head’ has the least meaning in the literal sense of any of the songs on the record, but in a strange way for me it all makes perfect sense. Line by line anyway. And the chorus is put over from the point of view of a fever, a virus, inhabiting somebody. ‘I’ll play you like a shark and I’ll clutch at your heart and come flying like a spark to inflame you.’ The rest of it’s just a stream of consciousness delirium put down on paper.”

Here are the complete lyrics:

Pineapple Head

Detective is flat
No longer is always flat out
Got the number of the getaway car
Didn’t get very far
As lucid as hell
These images moving so fast
Like a fever
So close to the bone
I don’t feel too well

And if you choose
To take that path

I will play you like a shark
And I’ll clutch at your heart
I’ll come flying like a spark
To enflame you

Sleeping alone
For pleasure, the pineapple head
It spins and it spins
Like a number I hold
Don’t remember if she was my friend
It was a long time ago

And if you choose
To take that path

I will play you like a shark
And I’ll clutch at your heart
I’ll come flying like a spark
To enflame you

Sleeping alone
For pleasure, the pineapple head
It spins and it spins
Like a number I hold
Don’t remember if she was my friend
It was a long time ago

And if you choose
To take that path
Would you come to make me pay?

Zoë’s Voice Mail Message

I was cleaning up my voice mailbox today when I came across the following message from my daughter, Zoë, that I’d saved from back in July:

Zoë’s Voice Mail Message

To give you a little background, she was on her way to Training Table, a local restaurant, with Emma and their Mom and she was calling to invite me to come along. She also wanted me to know that she’d won a small, stuffed SpongeBob Squarepants pineapple at a local amusement park the previous day and wanted me to have it for my collection.

Zoë's SpongeBob Pineapple
Zoë’s SpongeBob Pineapple

Ho’ Down

I saw this sign outside a local church yesterday:

Ho' Down Sign

I do hope they meant hoedown…as opposed to, “Monique, I’ve fallen off my four-inch heels and I can’t get up!”

Love Actually

Love Actually (One Sheet)

I saw Love Actually last night for the second time. Contrary to what you might assume from my serial attendance, it is not a great movie. It is, in fact, a mess. But it’s a charming, affecting, lovable mess. Kind of like me.

Besides, it has Emma Thompson, who has been woefully absent from films for the past few years, and Keira Knightley, who, unfortunately, has nothing to do in this film but sit there looking beautiful…which she does beautifully. Either one would be worth a repeat visit, but with both of them in the same film I’ll probably go a third time.

Before I went into the theater I stopped at a little burger stand they have in the lobby to order a Diet Coke with vanilla and, as I was sitting on the stool waiting for my drink, I noticed someone approaching on my left.

I turned and saw a girl, 19…maybe 20 years old, saying goodbye to some friends. She was walking backwards as she was finishing her conversation and based on her trajectory I could tell she was going to run into me, so I swiveled to my left and reached out to grab her shoulders to cushion the impact. Just then, she turned and, seeing me out of the corner of her eye, took a step sideways to avoid the collision, but lost her footing and started to fall.

Since I was already poised to grab her shoulders, I was able to catch her and ease her down so that she landed right in my lap, the back of her head brushing lightly against my cheek. As I helped her to her feet, she turned around, her face flushed with embarrassment and, as she laughed and apologized and thanked me again and again, she reached out and touched my arm…at which point my brain stopped functioning entirely.

It was too much to process all at once. The body in my arms, the soft, dark hair against my cheek, that fragrant winter combination of shampoo and perfume with just a hint of the wool, the beautiful face beaming at me, the touch of her hand… Too much, I tell you!

I muttered something along the lines of, “Oh, it was nothing…don’t mention it…not at all…,” but before I could really get my wits about me she was gone.

I got my drink, wandered into the theater, and took my seat. But I’m definitely going to have to see the film a third time because I spent the duration of that screening in a total fog. I kept replaying things in my head, trying to figure out what I should have said or done to…to…oh, I don’t know…keep her in my arms, I guess. Keep the body and the hair and the smell and the face and the hand and the touch and the smile and the moment. Because, for just that moment, I remembered what love actually felt like.