The first time I heard the song Panama, it was not by Van Halen as many people would have experienced, but rather by a gospel singer named Pat Boone who did a remix of the original somewhere late in his old age. I liked the sound of the song but more perhaps the symbolism of it all; a holy vocalist stretching outside his comfort zone to discuss fast cars, drugs, and someone reaching between his legs.

Because this was in the days prior to MP3s and gigabytes, I rode my bike down to the local record exchange where a used copy of the CD happened to be on sale for $3.99. I had always been weary about buying used CDs because the very nature of their sale suggested that someone had already owned and disposed of them—an endeavor not usually indicative of a smashing hit. But the second I saw the cover of Boone’s album, I knew I would be happy with my purchase.

The title of Boone’s album, which clicked with me at the ripe age of twelve, seemed to say it all: No More Mister Nice Guy. The man at the store told me Pat Boone was a descendant of the pioneer Daniel Boone, and if that wasn’t reason enough to buy his album I don’t know what was.

I got home and proceeded to listen to his adaptation of Panama over and over and over again until laser on my CD player got scratched. I didn’t know what Panama was back then, but I knew I really liked it.

It was one of those things that, upon discovery, seemed to pop up again and again for me to identify in public settings. In the supermarket, at the mall, in a restaurant, I enjoyed sharing with people the splendor of Pat Boone and I enjoyed, almost ironically, sharing with people the splendor of Panama.

When I first visited the country of Panama, I thought the song would be playing everywhere, and found it seriously disappointing when the majority of my new friends hadn’t even heard of it before. I try to make an effort to listen to it every few weeks nowadays simply to reignite that original spark that hooked me many years ago. I even had Panama’s local gringo radio station play it one Friday morning. And while it wasn’t the Pat Boone version, I hoped someone else might hear it for the first time and take to it like I once did.

Photo: http://ticketsgofast.com/wp-content/uploads/2007/09/1982.jpg

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Filed under: Culture on April 14th, 2008