***Those Oldies But Goodies…Out In The Be-Bop ‘60s Song Night- Betty Everett’s “It’s In His Kiss”

 

A YouTube film clip of Betty Everett performing her classic, It's In His Kiss.

From The Pen Of Frank Jackman

I usually like to place song lyrics at the end of sketches as kind of a put paid to the thing but here you need to read the lyrics to get the mood that I am trying to convey.

 

It’s In His Kiss- Betty Everett

Does he love me?

I wanna know!

How can I tell if he loves me so?

(Is it in his eyes?)

Oh no! You need to see!

(Is it in his size?)

Oh no! You make believe!

If you wanna know

If he loves you so

Its in his kiss!

(That's where it is!)

(Oh yeah! Or is it in his face?)

no girls! It's just his charms!

(In his warm embrace?)

no girls! That's just his arms!

If you wanna know

If he loves you so

It's in his kiss!

(That's where it is!)

yeah!! Its in his kiss!

(That's where it is!)

Oh, oh, oh, honey !

Squeeze him tight!

Find out what you wanna know!

promise love, and if it really is,

It's there in his kiss!

(How 'bout the way he acts?)

no no no! That's not the way!

You're not listenin' to all I'm sayin'!

If you wanna know

If he loves you so

It's in his kiss!

(That's where it is!)

Oh, yeah! It’s in his kiss!

(That's where it is!)

Oh, oh, oh, hold him!

Squeeze him tight!

Find out what you wanna know!

promise love, and if it really is,

well It's there in his kiss!

(How 'bout the way he acts?)

no no no! That's not the way!

You're not listenin' to all I'm sayin'!

If you wanna know

If he loves you so

It's in his kiss!

(That's where it is!)

Oh, yeah ! Its in his kiss!

(That's where it is!)

mmmm ! Its in his kiss!

(that's where it is)

mmmm is in his kiss

This sketch started out life when I was thinking about the good old days, the be-bop good old high school days in the early 1960s in my old working-class neighborhood in North Adamsville and remembered back to a certain very foxy chick (yeah, I know attractive woman, or just woman, but in those pre-correct guy testosterone days that was the term of art so let’s go with the “correct” term of the time, okay) named Chrissie McNamara was mooning over some guy. Some guy not me, okay. And Chrissie was mooning over that guy in the time when her favorite record (and everybody’s favorite on Doc’s Drugstore’s jukebox over on Newbury Street) blasting Bette Everett’s Its In His Kiss was all the rage. So I made it my business, my lordly-inspired business to find out why Chrissie was mooning and to try to find some solution to that problem, and if possible to my benefit. Now I was not doing this “service” just to satisfy some morbid curiosity but under orders from the Frankie Riley, the king hell king of the corner boy night around our way in those days and a guy that I as his right-hand man who could order me to do such tasks. Frankie was in a frenzy over the issue because he was trying to figure out why such a foxy chick (let it go, please) like Chrissie was moping around, and not moping around after him. So here is what I found out.             

The story all started like a lot of “intelligence” work that I did then trying to line everybody’s angles up, what they had to do, or not do, with the search for the truth. It all hung, or at least initially hung on a fact that everybody (except me since I had not kept in touch with the “married” couples around our high school) everyone knew by then that Jenny Dolan and John, John O’Connor, the running back gridiron hero of the North Adamsville football team, the one who almost single-handedly won them their state class championship were postponing their plans to be married since John had been given a football scholarship to Boston College. See the love-bugs wanted to wait to see how that panned out, and besides they had each other through thick and thin so to wait was no big deal. But just in case that was not to be in the cards they were together, were freaking inseparable, more in those days and so John was not to be seen around Salducci’s Pizza Parlor as much as he had been in his old single days, or even as much as in his newfound “married” days, the days since he and Jennie had become an item a couple of years previously. See also Jennie and one Chrissie McNamara were best friends, and had been for a while so I had to draw a bee-line to the source at some point, and Jennie, who never gave me a tumble, or a look as far as I know was the source.

[This John O’Connor, a guy I knew in junior high and hung out with before he became a football monster and the girls flocked to him, was one of the sweetest running backs that ever came out of North Adamsville, a gazelle of a runner, but shy, shy of girls, shy of one Jenny Dolan until one day she flopped herself on his lap in Salducci’s and practically dared him to kick her off. As you know, or can figure out he did no such thing. In fact I heard that it would have taken the whole freaking football team, and maybe throw in the junior varsity to try to take Jenny off his lap that afternoon. Yeah, it was like that.]     

For that matter Frankie Riley, the leader of the pack, the king hell king of the corner boy night, had not been seen for a few days either, had been seen even by me his loyal scribe ever since his 247th “break-up" with his flame, his ball and chain Joanne, Joanne Doyle. That could only mean one thing, old Frankie was out “catting around” before Joanne reined him in, again. And this is what I gathered indirectly from my “intelligence” provided by Jennie. Chrissie knew, Chrissie McNamara knew damn well that Frankie was on the prowl because about twenty minutes after he got his “walking papers” from Joanne that time he was on the phone to Chrissie seeing if she was ‘available.’ “No dice,” said Chrissie and not because she wasn’t interested in Frankie. A lot of girls were, a little. Except “ball and chain” Joanne history, those 247 break-ups (and 248 reconciliations), meant that the call was made just in Frankie “lark time.” Besides Chrissie and Joanne (and Jennie too going back to junior high days or something like that I heard) had been friends longer than Joanne had known Frankie and Chrissie liked Joanne, which is not what you could say about most girls who knew Joanne (or me). But this sketch is not about Joanne and so the various feuds, fights, cut-throat competition need not be gotten into here.

What needs to be gotten into though is why Chrissie was ambling into Salducci’s Pizza Parlor at ten o’clock one night, a Thursday school night ten o’clock all by herself. Well, it would not have been for the pizza, although the way Tonio, the zen master pizza maker and owner of the parlor, made those pizzas slather and slither was worth coming in for almost any time. And it was not for Frank Jackman’s company, no way, and had not been for a long time (around twelve or so when we kissed at a party one night, quickly and she decided I was not her kind of kisser although she did not put it quite so kindly. I was “holding down the fort” just now then while my “boss” Frankie was, as I already told you, was out catting around or something, no, just catting around. I had probably already made a note, a mental note, that Frankie for the 27th time has “struck out” with Chrissie and so maybe she did want my company as I spied her enter the front glass door. No way, no way that way, anyway. As it turned out. Chrissie and I had gotten friendlier, or Chrissie had, ever since I started getting into the be-bop folk music scene that was then growing by leaps and bounds in Boston. We actually had gone to some coffeehouse over on Joy Street in Boston one night with Frankie and Joanne. The latter pair couldn’t wait to leave (probably because Frankie’s calling card, flannel shirt, jeans, work boots, and yah, midnight sunglasses didn’t raise an eyebrow. Half the guys in the place looked just like him, except maybe the sunglasses). But Chrissie and I thought it was fantastic. Just no romance, no way, got it.

As it turned out, what did have Chrissie’s attention, why she was there that night, was one James Joseph Kelly, “Fingers” Kelly, who was sitting right next to me at that moment. Now my corner boy Fingers Kelly used to have the moniker of "Five Fingers" Kelly and for the squares out there that meant he was a clip artist and for the real squarey squares that meant he took things from stores…without paying. In other words he swiped things. But a couple of juvenile court appearances and some manhandling by James Joseph Kelly, Sr. shorten his moniker to Fingers, fast. Now what Chrissie wanted to talk to Fingers about was why, why just a couple of hours ago, did Fingers state to the best of my recollection that he did not want to see one Christine Anne McNamara on the next Saturday night. And on that night take her to the annual North Adamsville High School “Hi-Jinx” dance.

Now Fingers, Fingers Kelly, was wise enough to the ways of the world to know that if he didn’t grab Christine Anne McNamara with both arms when she was “after” him then some other guy (or guys) would be more than happy to do so. See Chrissie, besides being the head cheerleader at North like I said before was nothing but a fox. And Frankie, Fingers, me and half the non-blind guys in the school knew this fact. Tall, brownish blonde hair, a few freckles, nice legs, and a very nice personality (had to be if I thought so) to go with that physical description. And she was interested in lots of things besides corn-ball cheer- leading like that folk music stuff that I just mentioned. But Fingers had the freeze on for her for some reason.

Fingers was not bad looking, kind of tall, somewhat athletic (you had to be in his former “clip-artist” career), not bad to talk to, but was nothing if not just an okay guy. So the number one question, well, really the number two question after how many days would it be before Joanne reined her lover boy, Frankie, in, is why Chrissie was after Fingers so bad. And why Fingers, knowing what he knows about North Adamsville high school guys, was not waiting with bells on to take Chrissie to the dance. Well, you have not been paying attention on that Finger’s part (Chrissie we will get to in a minute). Finger, when he was Five Fingers, always had kale (cash, money, dollars, okay) and was not afraid to spent it. But in his new life as just Fingers he was always more broke more than not. And see, he could not go back to the five fingers way of life as much as he would have liked to because one Senior Kelly would bop him good. And old Senior, while we are at it, was not lending sonny boy any dough (kale, okay) after forking put a ton of money to keep one James Joseph Kelly, Junior out of reform school. So that is the skinny, pure and simple.

Now Chrissie was another matter. As already mentioned Fingers was okay but just okay so it has to be something else. And it wasn’t dough (although she does not know that Fingers is broke, totally broke). And it wasn’t the no car for a Saturday night date. She said that she would borrow her father’s car. Even I was puzzled by this situation and usually I am usually clueless about such “high” romance. The only thing anybody had come up as a reason for her continued interest in Fingers was something that people noticed after Chrissie first’s heavy “parking” date (you know what that is right, nobody is that square, kissing and more than kissing) with Fingers (a double date because of Finger’s car-deprivation so it was not what you would think). For a couple of days after that she was all dreamy-faced, all glowy and stuff. Humm.