Posted: Sunday, November 23, 2008 12:12 pm

Years ago a rock group named Dr. Hook released a song titled “Cover of the Rolling Stone.” It basically made fun of the fact that even though the group had hit the big time they still didn’t consider themselves a success until they made the cover of the music genre magazine “Rolling Stone.”

It’s now some 30 or so years later and I am beginning to feel the same way. Not because I don’t get enough credit for my journalistic prowess. Even I know I’m lucky to have found an editor desperate enough to print anything. How else do you explain the fact that I’m printed at all much less for past two years?

No, my lack of respect comes from a different source. The other day while flipping through the Post I came across the “Society Page.” You know, the section where Murfreesboro’s most beautiful gather to look down on the rest of us schmucks. They are often seen dining out, dancing, or just generally enjoying themselves at some party or function.

Now I will admit I’m not the easiest fellow to look at. I guess my wife took pity on me or saw some potential for success later on. She’s still waiting if that’s the case. I’m not the typical person you might see on the society page. Heck, that’s not even a picture of me each week with my article in the paper. I cut and pasted that from a story in the Des Moines Register on the 10most eligible bachelors in their city. From the looks of that guy it doesn’t look like the dating scene in Des Moines has much going for it either.

But the fact is I’ve lived in Murfreesboro for 30 years and I have never been in the society page. I’ll bet some of the folks who have been in it haven’t lived in Murfreesboro half as long as I have.

It’s certainly not like the wife and I don’t get out and do things. Just last Friday night we could have been seen at a local Captain D’s. I was enjoying the jumbo fish dinner with a side order of cheese sticks. At just the right moment I could have been photographed with a deep fried cod fillet sticking out of one side of my mouth and a cheese stick out the other side. Where’s the papparazi when you need them?

We also love to party! Just two weeks ago we were at a doozie held at Chuck E. Cheese. The hostess was a beautiful six-year-old with a constantly running nose. I even got up to sing with a giant mouse at one point. I also spent over $20 so my kid could get enough tickets for a 75-cent airplane that broke on the way to the car. Don’t tell me we don’t know how to party.

Dancing? Are you kidding me? I take it you didn’t see me at my sister’s wedding or my 20th class reunion. Well actually, I don’t remember either one of those very well myself but if what I’ve heard is true I was a dancing fool. Or was it just a fool? I really should have paced myself on those open bars.

Often those on the society page are attending some type of fundraiser. The wife and I are big supporters of fundraising. Just this past year we helped one of our children win the prize for the most candy bars sold in his class. Sixty-three bars between the two of us in 11 days. We couldn’t eat chocolate for a month after that.

So as you can see I certainly feel I have enough qualifications to make it on the society page. Maybe I’ll never be voted one of Murfreesboro’s most beautiful. For that matter I probably wouldn’t be voted one of the most beautiful on my street. But I have enough other things going on to get me on that lousy page. And if what I’ve offered isn’t enough then maybe, just maybe, one of those ladies with the red hats has an extra she’s willing to let me borrow. In the meantime, maybe you’ll see me at Captain D’s. If I don’t speak you’ll know it’s because my mouth is full.