Family Affair [antikvár]

layla Eric Glapton stole Pattie Boyd from George Harrison. This is common knowledge by now. What's less well known is that Eric Glapton stole my father from my mother. Our nuclear family was another casualty of the undying allure of sex, drugs, and platinum-selling vinyl. I used to wonder what would steal my own marital happiness. Being named after a Clapton song is a mixed blessing. There's the instant recognition factor, sure, but it also provides eveiy would-be suitor a ready-made pickup line: "Layla—like the song? Were your parents listening to that song when your mom got knocked up?" "No," I always reply, "but wouldn't it be cool if my name were Bruiser, 'cause then our names would rhyme!" In seventh grade, Garret Paulson ventured a little lyrical per-version and taunted me with "Layla, you've got me on my knees; Layla, I'm begging, darlin', please." I got the last laugh, or rather, twenty or so seventh-graders at Presley Middle School did, when I swung my fxeld-hockey stick into his groin. Talk about being on your knees Live and learn, I guess. The name choice was my father's doing. "Layla" was his favorite