teddy vs. serge - a conversation

i refuse to believe that anyone reading this will not know who Teddy Pendergrass is. its possible you will not know Serge Gainsbourg- although any hipster worth her/his weight in beer will claim to know. the funny thing is i knew nothing of Serge until Lawrence played me some of Historie de Melody Nelson (google it).  but i loved teddy. a folk hero to me, powerful, sexy and a damn right killer of gamble and huff written songs.

so here is an imaginary conversation with these two polar opposites.

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TEDDY:

i love your whisper. are all french men so stylish?

SERGE: 

we are lovers and cowards. it is what gives us style. and wine. and french bootie!

TEDDY:

when i was in Paris in '77, we stayed at the Beat Hotel- what a historic place. 

(singing voice deep and husky)

can you woo - woo -woo! ahhhh, woo-woo-wooooooooooo.

SERGE:

beautiful. i always wanted to sing like that. Jane would totally love to have your member in her lush mouth. magic.

TEDDY:

i love white women! can she take it?

SERGE: 

what do you mean? she is my wife! of course she can coddle your african-ness. 

TEDDY: 

didn't you write the song Roxanne for that english bloke Stingy?

SERGE:

oh, you mean De Police? the blonde nazi fella? NO, i would never write something as trite as that song.

TEDDY:

AND I would never keep a woman from her work! what a groove though. what does he say?

ROXANNE YOU DON'T HAVE TO IRON THAT DRESS TONIGHT. PUT ON THE NIGHTLIGHT! PUT ON THE NIGHTLIGHT!

SERGE:

YES. something like that. he has tantric abilities you know.

TEDDY:

what?

SERGE:

he can fuck without coming, but he spiritually comes.

TEDDY:

sounds like a mime job to me.