Norwegian Wood; Or, the power of persistance

Norwegian Wood

Some time ago, I wrote an article about my friend, Denny, the agricultural science professor and rock star. My old roommate, Rich Ginnaty has prompted me, to relate the rest of the story.

The three of us, Rich, Denny and I had moved into the bachelor pad on the edge of Dinky Town in Minneapolis, just next to the railroad tracks. It was the fall of 1969 and it was that time of our lives when we were between steady girlfriends. Rich, who had just completed his BS in accounting and was working his first job, was for us a guru financial advisor. One evening after work, we noticed that three beautiful women had moved just next door. One especially was striking, tall, brown hair and we had heard a rumor that she was a beauty queen from somewhere up north---the really frozen tundra.

We had to ask ourselves then what three pretty commonplace guys could possibly have that might attract such fine women. Rich, ever the financial analyst had us list our assets and liabilities. Yes, we were light on cash. Yes, we had extensive financial liabilities. However, we had the musical talent of Denny and his guitar. We groaned. Alas, he knew just five songs. Quickly we went over the five. Ok. Number two was Norwegian Wood. Bingo. That was the answer.

Next we had to review our looks. They were ok, but we needed something of a “superhero look,” something that might elevate Denny from “roofers helper” to renaissance minstrel. Quickly we went over our clothing stock. There was a very large bath towel, purple. There were some white long johns and some red shorts as well as a white shirt. Quickly we put it together to form a “superman” effect.

When all the girls had gotten home from school we began singing “Norwegian wood” through the wall at first. After singing for an hour we realized that the wall was dampening our sound and it was possible that they were not able to clearly hear our plaintive message. So, we moved to the balcony. Presto. In just another 15 minutes there was a loud rap on our door.

Breathlessly we opened the door. “ Well,” the tall dark haired one said, “we will give you two choices! Either come over for coffee or we will call the police.” Bingo.

So there it is. The whole story. On persistence. On determination. On what it takes to succeed.

Even today, I always have confidence that even if the long-range memory and short range memory is failing, I will always remember the lyrics to Norwegian Wood and that may be the difference.