you phil up my senses.

Have you ever come across someone with whom you felt an amazing amount of connection, if only for a second? I had a kindred moment today… and in the detergent aisle, of all places.

I was looking for my usual bottle of the critically acclaimed Liquid Ultra Tide with Downy, and noticed as I was scanning the shelves that the song playing over the PA was Phil Collins’ and Phillip Baker’s Easy Lover.

Now, hold up.

I am not a Phil Collins fan. I believe the man is probably a great drummer (when he was with Genesis…but Peter Gabriel is butter…) and a passable vocalist, but the whole Miami Vice to Depressing Ballad to Disney Soundtrack continuum really messes with my head.

I suppose you could call it versatility, but I just can’t get a lock on what the heck he’s trying to accomplish.

(That, and the fact that Billy, Don’t You Lose My Number and Two Hearts annoy the living hell out of me.)

But there I was, searching for the sweet elixir that makes my laundry smell mmm mmm good, and suddenly I was bobbing my head to the beat of the tune. Like all songs I’ve heard more than twice, I’ve got the lyrics down, too, so I began to sing along very quietly as well. I mean — I couldn’t help it. It just happened. And maybe it wasn’t that quiet.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a gangly guy in glasses doing the same thing, way down the aisle.

He caught me looking, realized that I was breaking it down to Phil too, and blushed furiously. I felt that this was about to become an awkward moment, so I decided to take it one. step. further.

I grabbed a bottle of Shout Stain Stick off the shelf, and fully lip-synced this part of the song, using the stick for a pseudo- (Sussudio?) microphone:

No don’t try to change her, just leave it, leave it
You’re not the only one, ooh seeing is believing
It’s the only way
You’ll ever know, oh

She’s an easy lover (she’s a easy lover)
She’ll get a hold on you believe it (get a hold on you)
(she’s) like no other
Before you know it you’ll be on your knees (you’ll be down on your knees)

He grinned a mile wide, and did an oft-coveted move on wedding dance floors: the Sprinkler.

I responded with my patented Solid Gold shimmy.

By this time, we were both audibly singing it, and fortunately, there was no one else around. But then — it happened.

We BOTH did the drum run that leads into one of the final chorus ad-libs. I mean, literally — this person that I don’t know air-drummed at exactly the same moment I did.

I squealed in delight. He beamed.

We went our separate ways, and it was over. But what a moment.

But for now, we’ll go on living separate lives
Yes for now, we’ll go on living separate lives
Separate lives…