You know what was wrong with the ’70s? At any point in that decade, particularly, oh, the first half, you might be having a conversation with a friend’s boyfriend. Say this boyfriend was not approved of by your friend’s parents. Say those parents were, in fact, actively trying to keep the young lovers apart. Say the boyfriend was in a band. In the middle of your conversation, the boyfriend might shake out his center-parted auburn hair and announce that he was going to sing a song in the next set that would really stick it to his girlfriend’s father. And then he would open his mouth and bray this song right in your face, a capella:
And his breath would smell like beer. Not that you were actually still breathing at this point.
Some women think it’s romantic when men sing to them. I have never understood this.