I told this story in Tres Producers back in May - it met with some skepticism. I swear it's as true as I can remember it. The kid was real as described; he was killed in a car crash after committing a robbery as described.

Recently I was flipping around the radio dial in the car and somehow ended up on the Cleveland oldies station, which is a very rare occurrence: they play the same songs over and over just like everyone else and I am very resentful that these great songs have had the juice drained from them do to promiscuous overplay.

On the other hand, it's not the song's fault; so once in a while I drop the attitude (I've had a bad attitude all week it is only fair to mention) and just dig on the tunes, most of which have worn deep, deep grooves into my psyche, like running water carving rock.

All the songs fit comfortably into their nested grooves until the spare, insinuating, literally haunting opening guitar riff of "Spooky"by the Classics IV (which is also on the new Six Feet Under soundtrack) came on - "daa-da-daa da-da-daa, daa-da-daa da-da-daa."

The song has always creeped me out, but this time it really disturbed me. It bugged me so much I was going to pull over and try to figure it out, but then the memory came back to me while I sat at a light.

I knew a boy at South Shores elementary school who sang "Spooky" incessantly for months after its release in late 1967. He drew attention to himself and fit in - of a sort - by singing songs or reciting comedy bits upon demand: a court jester for elementary kids. Even younger kids commanded performances, and he complied:

"In the cool of the evening when everything is getting kind of groovy..."

He also sang the Spiderman theme from the cartoon:

"Spiderman, Spiderman, does whatever a spider can,
Spins a web, any size, catches theives just like flies,
Look out! Here comes the Spiderman."

He knew all of the lines to the Bill Cosby monologues: "Fat Albert, Hey, Hey, Hey." He was unable or unwilling to communicate without borrowed words. Kids laughed with him, but mostly they laughed at him. He had a kind of unformed look, like the DNA didn't quite line up the way it is supposed to. He wore big thick glasses; his mouth always had flecks of saliva around it; his clothes never fit right. The boy was small, but some whispered he possessed the superhuman strength of the disturbed. The children were, truth be known, a little afraid of him.