Plastic Bertrand - "Ça plane pour moi". Jerome was at Rainbow Records, looking for Billy Joel's "Just the Way You Are", when a song came over the speakers that was so sharply curved and dazzling that it boiled his blood, boiled it in his shirt-sleeves, and he loosened his tie and summoned his courage and said to the pretty girl behind the counter, no more than a kid, "What is this?" She told him it was Plastic Bertrand. He brought the single home. He put it on the turntable. He waited. He waited all the way until after dinner. As Lorna was clearing up, Jerome swaggered to the stereo and lifted the record-player needle. "Listen to this," he said to Cal and Barbara. They looked at him strangely. Their father did not often play surprise songs. "Ça plane pour moi" began, and Jerome's eyebrows were raised as high as they could go, and he was grinning dumbly, and he said, "It's Plastic Bertrand and he's singing in a made up language." Barbara and Cal rolled their eyes. They got up. They started to dance on the carpet. "It's French, dad," they said. And they knew every word. [buy]

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