Handy Man by David Landrum
Handy Man
by David Landrum
“Hey, baby, I’m your handy man.” — From the song, “Handy Man” by Otis Blackwell
I’ve always liked the song “Handy Man.” I like the original version by Jimmy Jones and the cover by Del Shannon. My favorite, though, is the recording James Taylor made of it in 1977. I like Taylor’s version because he sings it in an easy, sweet, gentle voice, and this reflects how I am. Of course, I like the song most of all because I do the thing the guy in the song says he can do. I fix broken hearts. I’ve done it now at least two times.
The first one I fixed belonged to a girl name Linda Seales. I got to know her when I worked at a McDonalds in Indianapolis.
Linda was not a pretty girl. She had red hair and blue eyes but her teeth all had spaces between them and she was a little chubby. She came from a poor home. As a senior in high school she started working at Mickey-D’s to earn spending money.
Linda didn’t open up much at first, but after a while she started talking about a kid named Tom Hefner, who was giving her a hard time at school.
Hefner came from a wealthy home. Religious, good-looking, popular, clean and wholesome, he tormented Linda without let-up—and to the great amusement of the other students. Every day he launched some kind of barb at her. She insulted back, but he had popularity on his side and good looks. “Suck my nose,” she would say, but her insults had no effect because he, and the other students, knew he rated higher on the social ladder than she. Linda patiently endured it and confided to me, the Handy Man. ** Read on! **
