Do You hear Me tapping On your window Come softly darling Sit right here beside me Kiss my trembling fingertips Take me in your arms and hold me Tell me you will never let me go Do you hear me tapping on your window
A petal soft kiss Fluttering cherry blossoms Loveβs gentle breezes
The Dectina Refrain is written as follows: 1stΒ line is 1 syllable, 2ndΒ line is 2 syllables, 3rdΒ line is 3 syllables, and so on for 9 lines; the 10thΒ line is comprised of the first four lines and written as one stand-alone line.
Yesterday was our anniversary, wed 52 years. No partynecessary.
None of our friends who married around the same time are still together. How sad is that?
People have asked βWhatβs the secret to a long and happy marriage?β For us itβs pretty simple: respect, communication, honesty, having a sense of humor.
When you combine those ingredients, love happens. You can manage the lows and celebrate the peaks, watch the dawns and the sunsets, walk hand-in-hand through the ordinary and make it extraordinary.
Lillian, tonightβs Pub Master, is hosting Quadrille Monday at the dVerse Poets Pub. Weβre asked to create a 44-word poem using the word βfigmentβ. Hereβs my poem.
Written for Stream of Consciousness Saturday where we are asked to start our piece with a question. Bonus points have been hinted at if we also end our piece with a question. Here is my questionable stream based on a conversation I had with my husband.
βWhat would you say if I decided to let my hair go natural? You know, go grey?β
βI’d have to ask why you would want to do that. You always take great pride in looking younger than you are. Wouldnβt grey hair make you look older?β
βWell, Iβm not sure we can toss a blanket over all women with grey hair and say they look older. There are other factors that come into play. Iβve always had great skin. Wonβt I still have great skinif I go grey? How can I just arbitrarily assume I will look older?β
βOk, Iβll give you that much. You can’t assume you will definitely look older. Youβve told me how much you like the color of your hair. Iβm surprised you’re suddenly considering changing it. Where is this coming from?β
βHonestly, Iβve been thinking about it for a while. It would be so much easier not having to color my hair and get highlights every couple of months. Besides, when we were at your sisterβs house the other day, I was the only woman who still colors her hair.β
βAnd you were the best looking one at the table!β
βYou have to say that; Iβm your wife! Your sisterβs grey hair looks gorgeous. I know women whoβd kill to have her color.β
βBut thereβs no guarantee youβll end up with the same color, is there?β
βWell, no β¦. I suppose not. But my colorist is so talented, I just know sheβd do a great job transitioning my hair.β
“Now I’m confused. If you want to stop coloring your hair, what does your colorist have to do with any of this?”
“My colorist will add some grey to my hair …. like getting highlightsonly they’d be grey instead of blonde. She’d gradually add more until my hair is completely grey, then I can naturally let my grey roots grow out.”
“Seem’s like an awful lot of work to me. Why not just stop coloring your hair and let nature take it’s course?”
“That’s a terrible idea! It’ll take forever and look awful growing out!”
βWell, if youβre convinced this is what you want, Iβm not going to stop you.β
βIβm not at all convinced this is what I want; thatβs why I asked you in the first place.β
βOk, then my answer to your question is βDonβt go gray. I love your hair color the way it is.β
βWell, Iβll have to give that more thought. What do you think about me cutting my hair?β
Lately I have been pondering some of life’s mysteries.
If I had gone out on that blind date in March of ’68 with Billβs twin brother Jim instead of Bill [which was the original plan], and married Jim instead of Bill, would I have experienced the same happiness and blessings in my life? Would I have had the long and loving relationship, the feeling of security I enjoy now? Would my spouse still have been my equal partner in every aspect of our marriage? Would I have conceived and given birth to the amazing children I raised who in turn have blessed me with incredible grandchildren? Would we be celebrating our 52nd wedding anniversary?
Or would I be a widow?
Two-and-a-half months ago, before my husbandβs brother died, I never thought about such things. Strange how death can make us wonder about life.
scattering stardust unanswerable questions swirling round my brain
But β¦. letβs get real! Where did the time go and how did she get so big?
Our youngest grandchild, 4-year-old Colette, is not a wee one any longer. Of course, we’ve noticed some of the clothes we keep for her at our house have gotten snug but now she can help herself to anything in the refrigerator, open the latch on the gate leading to the front yard without any assistance and weβve had to make some adjustments to her car seat. However, nothing brings home how much sheβs grown in nine months like these two side-by-side photos.
Back in September on the first day of nursery school, she was a giddy little tyke bubbling with enthusiasm and now sheβs a beautiful little girl looking so very mature and confident, pictured on the last day of school on June 5.
Coletteβs on a steady course to independence β¦. dressing and showering by herself (with some careful supervision), using a “grown up” drinking glass instead of one with a lid and straw, calling her parents βMom & Dadβ instead of βMommy & Daddyβ, and a bunch of little changes we see on a regular basis.
Our son drops her off for us to babysit each week on Tuesdays, Thursdays and the occasional Saturday; now that sheβs able to do so much on her own, itβs a lot easier for us but sometimes we sure do miss that giggly, squirmy toddler! Time is going far too fast.
Sheβll always be our little Kukla, no matter how old she gets; thatβs something no amount of time will ever change!
The National Recording Registry is a list of audio recordings selected for preservation by the head of the U.S. Library of Congress in consultation with the National Recording Preservation Board. Every year, 25 recordings that are deemed to be, in the words of the National Recording Preservation Act of 2000, βculturally, historically, or aesthetically significantβ are added to the registry. The selections include music, speeches, radio broadcasts, interviews, audiobooks, podcast episodes, and other recorded sounds. To be eligible for inclusion on the registry, a recording must be at least 10 years old.
The instant I saw my featured song listed in the National Recording Registry, I stopped looking. Being one of my top five favorite songs, it was pointless to go any further.
My song choice for today’s theme is “Mack the Knife” by Bobby Darin. The song tells the story ofΒ a knife-wielding criminal of the London underworld along with a few prostitutes, some other colorful characters, missing money and cement bags (for the weight, naturally).
Released in 1959 by Bobby Darin, “Mack the Knife” was originally written in 1928 for Die Dreigroschenoper (Threepenny Opera), the German “play with music” composed by Kurt Weill with lyrics by Bertolt Brecht. But the history of “Mack the Knife” begins long before Brecht and Weill wrote the song. Their inspiration goes all the way back to 1728, to a British play calledΒ “The Beggar’s Opera”Β written by John Gay to mock the ruling classes. And Gay had some good precedents for the idea of writing an opera with a violent thief as the protagonist. After all, the Brits had already seen satirical anti-heroes ranging from Shakespeare’s Richard III to John Milton’s fabulously dangerous Satan in βParadise Lostβ.Β
When Brecht and Weill had great success with their German opera in the 1930s, people said it was an amazing play for the period β the pair of socialists successfully satirized serious enemies (like the Nazis, who banned the play in 1933) and made some sharp political points for their time. But a full 30 years later, Bobby Darin’s version of “Mack the Knife” became the most popular song in the U.S.Β β a jazzy little serial-killer socialist-opera ditty at the top of the charts.
Bobby Darin’s version of βMack The KnifeβΒ is undoubtedly the most famous hit β¦. a cool, finger-snapping song about the notorious killer, thief and arsonist, MacHeath (AKA Mack the Knife). Bobbyβs recording became a #1 hit in the US and UK and earned him two Grammy Awards β one for Record of the Year and another for Best New Artist. Bobby Darin was inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of fame in 1990 and also won the Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award in 2010.
“Mack the Knife” is the 14th most popular song in Billboard Hot 100 history and was ranked #255 onΒ Rolling Stone‘s list of the 500 Greatest Songs of All Time.Β It was inducted into the National Recording Registry in 2015. And it appears prominently on my playlist.
Here is the one and only Bobby Darin with the iconic βMack The Knifeβ.
Lyrics
Oh, the shark, babe, has such teeth, dear And it shows them pearly white Just a jackknife has old MacHeath, babe And he keeps it, ah, out of sight You know when that shark bites with his teeth, babe Scarlet billows start to spread Fancy gloves, oh, wears old MacHeath, babe So thereβs never, never a trace of red
Now on the sidewalk, huh, huh, whoo sunny morning, un huh Lies a body just oozinβ life, eek And someoneβs sneakinβ βround the corner Could that someone be Mack the Knife?
Thereβs a tugboat, huh, huh, down by the river donβtcha know Where a cement bagβs just a-drooppinβ on down Oh, that cement is just, itβs there for the weight, dear Fiveβll get ya ten, old Mackyβs back in town Now did ya hear βbout Louie Miller? He disappeared, babe After drawinβ out all his hard-earned cash And now MacHeath spends just like a sailor Could it be our boyβs done somethinβ rash?
Now Jenny Diver, ho, ho, yeah, Sukey Tawdry Ooh, Miss Lotte Lenya and old Lucy Brown Oh, the line forms on the right, babe Now that Mackyβs back in town
I said Jenny Diver, whoa, Sukey Tawdry Look out to Miss Lotte Lenya and old Lucy Brown Yes, that line forms on the right, babe Now that Mackyβs back in town Look out, old Mackyβs back
NB: Our friend Macky was a multi-tasking criminal … thief, arsonist, murderer, pimp; Jenny Diver, Lucy Brown and Suky Tawdry were all prostitutes. Lotte Lenya was in reality the wife of the composer, Kurt Weill and her name was attached to a character in an off-Broadway production. Louie Miller represents a would-be client of one of the prostitutes, who is murdered by MacHeath after drawing out money.
This is a clip from the βThreepenny Operaβ movie featuring βMack The Knifeβ in its original German .β¦ quite a startling contrast to Bobby Darinβs version.
And just for fun, thereβs this. I love these guys:
Big thanks to Jim for hosting another great Song Lyric Sunday and offering up a terrific theme this week; it gave me the opportunity to feature one of my greatest musical idols who I have admired and respected for more than 60 years.
Thanks for stopping by. See you on the flip side. π
Written for The Unicorn Challenge where we are encouraged to get creative in 250 words or less using the photo prompt as inspiration. This is my 2nd story of Harvey and Fiona. For another look at the 1st installment, click here.
Harvey and Fiona were as different as a gorilla and a swan but they had an undeniable chemistry and started falling in love. No one was more surprised than Fiona .β¦ except her parents.
There was a major obstacle her parents couldnβt overlook β Harvey was Jewish. Fionaβs very Irish-Catholic father hated Harvey, calling him βChrist killerβΒ and βkikeβ.Β Her mother was crushed. βJesus, Mary and Joseph! Canβt you see heβs no good for you? I donβt trust him, Fina girl!βΒ she warned, crying into her apron. Fiona would not be dissuaded; with a heavy heart she closed the door of her childhood home behind her and never looked back.
Harvey and Fiona were married in city hall, the judge and his clerk their only guests and witnesses. After a weekend honeymoon in Niagara Falls, the couple settled into Harveyβs tiny apartment β a walk-up on the fifth floor with a depressing view of factories and government buildings.
Harvey worked the graveyard shift as a printer at the local newspaper, seven days a week from midnight till 8:00 AM. His fingernails were perpetually stained with black ink. The first morning he came home from work and saw the newly decorated apartment, he yelled furiously at Fiona for spending his money on unnecessary things. Uncaring, he left ink stains on the new bedspread when he sat down to remove his shoes.
Fiona cried silently in the kitchen. Harvey sidled up behind her, kissed a spot below her ear and she leaned into him.
Itβs 8AM at the humane society and all the residents are enjoying their freshly cleaned digs, and that means nice crisp newspapers lining the floor, just in case. Accidents happen, you know!
Today theyβre in for a special treat; the papers are opened to the birth announcements page!
All the pups are besotted by the photo of a beautiful baby with big blue eyes. Sure looks like a playful and happy little tyke! They stare longingly at the baby’s photo, wistfully talking among themselves about the greatest thing that could happen to them, the one thing that would change their lonely doggie lives β¦. to be adopted and to find themselves in a new forever home with a special friend to play with and grow up with …. just like this little guy.
βIt sure would be swell, wouldnβt it?β they ask each other, visions of blankets, chew toys and bouncy rubber balls swirling in their heads. βMaybe today will be our lucky day!β
At 9AM the humane society opens its doors to the public and a few families start streaming in. Most of the parents are being tugged by eager kids hoping to find a best friend to share their home and their lives. Everyone is optimistic and excited.
Today is a big day …. maybe it will be their lucky day!
Written for Friday Fictioneers where our gracious host, Rochelle, encourages us to get creative in 100 words or less using this photo as our inspiration. Here is my 100-word photo-inspired story.
Funny thing about dreams and memories; sometimes itβs difficult to tell them apart. Sometimes I just donβt want to.
That summer β¦. after the breakup β¦. I needed to be alone …. to think β¦. to put the hurt behind me. A few days at that motel on the beach seemed like a good idea at the time.
Everywhere I walked β¦. everything I saw β¦. reminded me of you. The scent of salt water. Scattered shells and seaweed. That song. Hot summer nights. Stars so close you could touch them.
Memories and dreams of you β¦. theyβre funny that way.
Welcome to Birthday Thursdays! Each week I will feature someone from the world of music whose birthday falls on this day. There wonβt be any chit chat from me, no facts and figures β just some great tunes (and an occasional surprise). Check it out right here every Thursday and enjoy the music.
Happy Birthday to Levi Stubbs Born June 6, 1936 in Detroit Michigan
Written for Six Sentence Story where Denise encourages us to get creative in just six sentences incorporating the word βengagementβ. Hereβs my six.
The idea of my parents chaperoning me to the beach that night was mortifying but I figured I had to suck it up if there was a ghost of a chance of having any fun during this vacation in Surf City, so that night my mother, father and I went for a stroll on the beach, me hanging back about ten feet or so hoping the cool bonfire kids would think I was by myself; music was playing and marshmallows were roasting on long sticks β¦. everyone was tan and blonde and beautiful β¦. and thatβs when I saw him β¦. he looked just like Edd βKookieβ Byrnes from β77 Sunset Stripβ and when he glanced up as we walked by and smiled, I fell hopelessly in love.
Thankfully, my parents quietly observed the group without their usual compulsion to make conversation and, satisfied what they saw wasnβt a remake of βReefer Madnessβ, sat for a while high on a dune delighting in the reflection of the moon on the water; when it was time to go, the three of us walked back to the beach house β¦. but not before I had a chance to look over my shoulder and giveΒ EddΒ a little wave; he grinned and waved back (I was in heaven) and I knew I had to go to the next bonfire β alone.Β
I guess being out in the sun all day must have fried my parentβs brains because, when I nonchalantly asked them the next night if I could walk down to the bonfire by myself for a little while, they actually agreed; all I could think about was seeing Edd again and how relieved I felt that my older sister considered herself βtoo mature for ateeny-bopper beach partyβ and didnβt want to tag along.
The group was friendly and waved me over so, as casually as possible, I headed straight forΒ EddΒ and sat down next to him and someone handed me a cold beer β¦. my first ever .β¦ which I liked quite a bit; the kids were intoΒ Jan and Dean andΒ The Beach Boys β¦. I was aΒ BeatlesΒ girl but I wasnβt going to let that get in the way β¦. and by the end of the night,Β EddΒ and I were holding hands and agreed to meet again the following night.Β
That was the most blissful week of my young life β¦. lots of kissing and petting β¦. professions of love β¦. an βengagement ringβ fashioned from a Bud Lite pull tab β¦. but we didnβt go beyond 2nd base; in all my 16 years, Iβd never been as happy or excited to be with someone as I was with Edd.
At the end of the week we exchanged phone numbers and promised to call each other but that didnβt happened and itβs ok β¦. I never really thought it would …. I’m content with the memory; one thing I’m sure of is none of my friends will ever be able to say they spent a week making out on the beach with Edd βKookieβ Byrnes.
Melissa is our host for dVerse Prosery Monday. She has asked us to write a prose story of up to 144 words using the quote βI pray to God that she may lie forever with unopened eyeβ by Edgar Allan Poe. Here is my prose in exactly 144 words.
Not wanting his mother to be alone, and despite his wife Heleneβs protests, Frederick moved his mother into their home. He hoped the two women might provide some companionship for each other but they soon began arguing.
Helene could do nothing right in her mother-in-lawβs eyes. The old woman went so far as to flaunt Heleneβs inability to have a baby, goading her on by calling her wretched, a desiccated vessel, a disappointing failure.
Now the pain and humiliation had taken its toll and Helene began her descent into madness. One day while Frederick was at work, she bludgeoned his mother to a bloody pulp.
Written for Glynβs Mixed Music Bag Week #23 where the theme is ‘songs by a group or solo singer beginning with the letter K or L’.Here’s my group.
Photo: GAB Archive/Redferns
Wickedly satirical, wryly observant and fiercely independent, the Kinks ran counter even to the counterculture! While other major 60s bands were on drug-fueled psychedelic jam sessions, the Kinks kept their focus close to home. They dissected England with witty, literate lyrics set to pop-rock that gained them a cult following that only grows.
While we could never be called cult-followers, Bill and I are huge Kinks fans and saw them perform in concert more times than any other group. The Kinks have left an unimpeachable legacy of classic songs, many of which formed the building blocks of popular music as we know it today.
Founded in 1964 in Muswell Hill, North London, by brothers Ray and Dave Davies, the Kinks first gained prominence on the heels of the well-received and highly influential single βYou Really Got Meβ. The group originally consisted of lead singer/guitarist Ray Davies, lead guitarist Dave Davies, bassist Pete Quaife and drummer Mick Avory. Quaife left [twice] in the late 1960s and Avory left in 1984 as the result of a long-running dispute with Dave Davies, leaving only Ray and Dave as the core of the original group.
With Rayβs songwriting skills, Daveβs impressive guitar work and Mick Avory’s tight and steady drumming, the band became one of the best and most significant groups of British pop and the βBritish Invasionβ, lasting longer than any of their peers, apart from the Rolling Stones. Their catalogue of songs has been covered by Van Halen, The Pretenders, The Black Keys, The Stranglers, Queens of the Stone Age and many more.
So, what about all those concerts we went to? Bill helped me with this list as I didnβt think I would have remembered all the dates …. and I didnβt! The 1st time we saw the Kinks was in October, 1969, at our old stomping grounds, the Fillmore East. The 2nd time was June, 1970, at the Capitol Theater in Port Chester, NY; that was a great show which also featured Grand Funk Railroad and Mott The Hoople. In November, 1971, we saw the Kinks at Carnegie Hall and then again at Stony Brook University where they shared the stage with Yes. Our 5th Kinks concert was again at Carnegie Hall in March, 1972, and later that year we saw them two more times β¦. once with the Beach Boys at the Nassau Coliseum (fun!) and again at the Felt Forum of Madison Square Garden. The 8th time seeing the Kinks was with Argent in March of β73 at St. Johnβs University. In 1974 we saw them for the 9th time, again at the Felt Forum. Our 10th and final Kinks concert took place at Hofstra University in May, 1977. I was pregnant with our first child and we decided it was time to settle down and act responsibly. Thatβs 10 performances in 8 years; not bad!
As you can imagine, itβs very difficult to choose one Kinksβ song as my all-time favorite β¦. so I wonβt. Here are three songs I really like a lot so turn up the volume and settle in.
#1 – Ray Davies claimed that he was inspired to write “Lola” after Kinks manager Robert Wace spent a night in Paris dancing with a cross-dresser. The lyrics to this one are so deliciously clever and can be interpreted a couple of different ways. “Lola” reached #1 on the UK Singles Chart and #9 on the Billboard Hot 100. The track has since become one of the Kinks’ most popular songs and was ranked #386 on Rolling Stonesβ 2021 edition of βThe 500 Greatest Songs Of All Time”. This is βLolaβ:
#2 β Thereβs not a single thing wrong with this beautiful and melancholy tribute to the stars of Hollywoodβs Silver Screen. Record World called βCelluloid Heroesβ one of Ray Daviesβ finest compositions, however it failed to chart. That doesn’t matter one bit to me; it still is a fabulous song! This is βCelluloid Heroesβ:
#3 – Released in August, 1964, βYou Really Got Me” went to #1 on the UK singles chart and later in the year to #7 on the US charts. The track is taken from the Kinksβ self-titled album The Kinks. This is βYou Really Got Meβ:
Gold petals amid the lace of purple lavender whimsy dabble the lush spring grass while the sunβs resplendent rays herald the start of summer days as birds and bees and bugs gently laze Gold petals amid the lace of purple as birds and bees and bugs gently laze herald the start of summer days while the sun’s resplendent rays dabble the lush spring grass lavender whimsy lace of purple amid the petals gold
A Reverse Dectina Refrain is written as follows: 1st line is 1 syllable, 2nd line is 2 syllables, 3rd line is 3 syllables, and so on for 9 lines; the 10th line is comprised of the first four lines as one stand-alone thought. Repeat in reverse starting with line 9. Rhyming is optional.
My husband is as easy going as can be, so when he makes a request, I try my best to oblige. Last night he asked for Sunday pasta with meatballs. How could I refuse?
Homemade pasta with all the trimmings is something I can do with my eyes closed but when I first started out in the kitchen as a new bride, I had no idea what I was doing. Sure, I had watched my mother cook for years but itβs a whole different ballgame when youβre on your own.
Iβll never forget the first time I tried to make Sunday pasta. Reading my motherβs recipe was no help. This is exactly what she wrote:
For your pasta dough mix flour and eggs, water when you need, pinch salt, oil maybe.
Thatβs it. No measurements, no amounts, nothing definitive. Her meatball recipe was no better:
Chopped meat, eggs, some salt & pepper, handful parmigiano, another handful breadcrumbs, dice onion, parsley, oregano, glass of water.
A GLASS OF WATER! Which glass? What size? At this point my eyes were frantically scanning the kitchen for a glass! I didnβt know if I should laugh or cry. Iβm sure my mother never referred to a recipe in her life so she had no idea how to write one!
Just then it hit me and I had a vision of my mother in her kitchen. She always used a Flintstoneβs Jelly Jar as her water glass when cooking; she said it was the perfect size. All I had to do was find an equivalent measure and Iβd be good.
I eventually mastered the art of Sunday pasta with meatballs but I sure do wish I had my momβs jelly jar .β¦ for old timesβ sake, you know?
Todayβs theme at Song Lyric Sunday is all about songs with the lyrics βeerie, ghost, haunting, paranormal or spookyβ as suggested by Di of pensitivity101.
There are any number of songs along these lines .β¦ the pop hit βSpookyβ by the Classic IV, the golden standard βGhost Of A Chanceβ by Ella Fitzgerald or the classic cowboy legend βGhost Riders In The Skyβ by Johnny Cash, just to name three. However, I remembered a song from just four years ago and had it simmering on the back burner.
Today seemed like the right day to serve it up.
Since 2017, the Rolling Stones had been on the No Filter Tour but had to stop touring in 2020 due to the COVID 19 pandemic. They remotely performed at Global Citizen’s Together At Home concert on April 18, 2020, helping raise money for healthcare workers and the World Health Organization during the crisis.
The Stones had been working on new music in the recording studio before lockdown and one particular track really resonated with what we were all living through. On April 23, 2020, the band released “Living In A Ghost Town” online as a single for digital download and streaming. It was based on 2019 recording sessions and finished remotely, making this their first original material since 2012 and their first release since the 2016 cover album Blue & Lonesome. The band fast-tracked releasing the song due to its relevance to social distancing. While the original storyline of the song was about being a ghost after a plague, Jagger changed some of the lyrics to refer to the pandemic.
On July 3, 2020, “Living In A Ghost Town” topped the German singles chart; this made the Rolling Stones the oldest artists ever to reach #1 on the chart! It also signified the longest gap between two #1 singles in Germany since “Jumpinβ Jack Flash” made it to the top slot in 1968. The song only reached #61 on the UKsingleschart but fared much better in the US, peaking at #6 on Billboard’s Bubbling Under Hot 100 singles and #3 on Billboard’s Hot Rock & Alternative songs.
Recorded in Los Angeles, London and in isolation, my feature song today is βLiving In A Ghost Townβ by the Rolling Stones.
Lyrics
Whoa, oh Whoa, oh
I’m the ghost Living in a ghost town I’m a ghost Living in a ghost town
You can look for me But I can’t be found You can search for me I had to go underground
Life was so beautiful Then we all got locked down Feel a like ghost Living in a ghost town, yeah
Once this place was humming And the air was full of drumming The sound of cymbals crashing Glasses were all smashing Trumpets were all screaming Saxophones were blaring Nobody was caring if it’s day or night (Whoa, oh) Whoa, oh
I’m a ghost Living in a ghost town I’m going nowhere Shut up all alone So much time to lose Just staring at my phone
Every night I am dreaming That you’ll come and creep in my bed Please let this be over Not stuck in a world without end
Whoa, oh Whoa, oh Whoa, oh Whoa, oh
Preachers were all preaching Charities beseeching Politicians dealing Thieves were happy stealing Widows were all weeping No beds for us to sleep in Always had the feeling It will all come tumbling down
I’m a ghost Living in a ghost town You can look for me But I can’t be found
Whoa, oh We’re all living in a ghost town (Whoa, oh) Oh, living in a ghost town (Whoa, oh) We were so beautiful (Whoa, oh) I was your man about town (Whoa, oh)
Living in this ghost town (Whoa, oh) Ain’t having any fun (Whoa, oh) If I want a party (Whoa, oh) It’s a party of one Whoa, oh Whoa, oh
Source: Musixmatch Songwriters: Michael Phillip Jagger/Keith Richards
Written for The Unicorn Challenge where we are asked to get creative in 250 words or less, using the photo prompt as inspiration. This is my 250-word story.
Fiona was late for Mass. Seeing an unfamiliar man leaning against the wall outside Sullyβs Bar, she quickened her pace. As she passed she heard him chuckle and say βWhatβs yer hurry, Irish?β She walked even faster, opening the side door to St. Brigidβs.
An hour later Fiona exited the church and noticed the same man from the bar standing at the corner. Had he been waiting for her all this time? Wary, she stepped backwards, teetering on the curb and losing her shoe in the process.
Suddenly the man was by her side. She was taken aback as he reached around her waist and stopped her fall.
βNameβs Harvey Rubin and yer one fine lookinβ dish. Ya need somebody like me to drive ya home, Irish. It can be dangerous for a good Catholic girl like yerself walkin’ alone in this neck o’ the woods.β
βKeep your thoughts …. and hands …. to yourself, buster!β Fiona snapped. βBesides, how do you know Iβm a good Catholic girl?β
βWell, I ainβt no Albert Einstein but I seen ya practically racinβ to St. Brigidβs like yer panties was on fire and Iβm guessinβ yaainβt no altar boy β not withthem gorgeousgams.β Harvey replied in an unhurried way.
Glancing down, he smiled at her missing shoe; his tough βBogieβ persona became surprisingly charming. Fiona found it difficult to resist this rough-hewn stranger and she shocked herself by allowing him to escort her home.
Written for Friday Fictioneers where we are encouraged to write something creative in 100 words or less using the photo below as inspiration. This is my 100-word story.
Uncle Bobby had this irrational fear of spiders. Well, it was irrational to his family; for him it was very real.
So when the new amusement park ride Spiders From Mars opened, Uncle Bobby wouldnβt go near it.
Everyone tried convincing him the ride wasnβt jinxed or dangerous but he wasnβt buying it. All their urging and encouragement fell on deaf ears. Uncle Bobby watched from the shadows as his nieces and nephews went for a spin.
That night the ride malfunctioned; several family members were killed, unceremoniously hurled out of the park.
Guess Uncle Bobby’s fear wasn’t so irrational. π·οΈ
Welcome to Birthday Thursdays! Each week I will feature someone from the world of music whose birthday falls on this day. There wonβt be any chit chat from me, no facts and figures β just some great tunes (and an occasional surprise). Check it out right here every Thursday and enjoy the music.
Happy Birthday to Lenny Davidson Born May 30, 1944 in Enfield, UK
Written for Six Sentence Story where we are given a word, in this case ‘lift’, and asked to incorporate it into a story of no more than six sentences. This is my true story of family.
βMangia il cibo sul tuo piatto, Concetta, o lo mangerai dal pavimentoβ β (βEat the food on your plate, Concetta, or you will eat it off the floor.β)
Without changing her expression or taking her huge brown eyes off her father Domenicoβs face, three year old Concetta picked up a meatball, extended her arm over the side of her highchair and very calmly let it drop to the floor.
Silence.
Everyone sat in suspended animation as Domenico deliberately put down his knife and fork and removed the napkin which was tucked into the neck of his shirt; slowly he stood up, walked behind Concettaβs chair, grabbed the back of her dress and lifted her up.
Holding her feet with his other hand, Domenico lowered Concettaβs face to the floor until her mouth touched the meatball; she tried to turn away, but Domenico pushed her face into the food, forcing her to take the meatball into her mouth, then, satisfied, he sat her back in her highchair, returned to his seat and resumed eating while Concetta languidly chewed what was in her mouth.
Hesitantly, self-consciously, everyone resumed eating and talking except Concettaβs mother Rosa who sat watching her daughter closely; at the end of the meal as the women cleared the table, Rosa placed a napkin over her defiant daughterβs mouth so she could spit out the uneaten meatball and whispered in her ear βMai piΓΉ, Concetta; obbedisci a tuo padre!β β (βNever again, Concetta; obey your father!β)
Written for Glynβs Mixed Music Bag week #22 where we are asked to write about a song by a group or solo singer beginning with the letter I or J.
There is only one band in the history of American music that had a proven influence on both The Beatles and the rapper Ice Cube and had a hit in six straight decades, from the β50s to the β00s. That band is the mighty Isley Brothers, one the most influential bands in American musical history.
Formed in the mid-β50s as a teenage gospel quartet by the four eldest Isley Brothers (OβKelly, Rudolph, Ronald and Vernon), the original group quit performing when Vernon was tragically killed at age 13 while riding his bike. In 1957, at the urging of their parents, the remaining three brothers moved to New York City to make it as a R&R band. The first song they wrote together was something calledΒ βShout!ββ a massive smash that had multiple lives thanks to its inclusion on theΒ Animal HouseΒ soundtrack β and is probably playing at an event near you, right now.
From that first single and album in 1959, the Isley Brothers repeatedly redefined what their music was and what it was called; they dominated the black music charts like no band before or since. The Isley Brothers can count bothΒ Jimi HendrixΒ (who toured with them in the early β60s) andΒ Elton JohnΒ (whose band backed the Isleys up in the UK) as backing musicians. They have arguably the most legendary run of albums in R&B history. After early R&R success (and an incredible detour withΒ Motown), the band released all of their albums independently on their ownΒ T-Neck Records, reinventing R&B over and over again in the process.
In 1973, the younger brothers Ernie and Marvin joined the band alongside their brother in law, Chris Jasper. Ernie Isley is one of the most well-known and respected guitarists and song writers in the history of the business and together the brothers wrote and produced many of the hits that we know and love today.
The Isley Brothers were inducted into theRock & Roll Hall of Fame in 1992, in a class with their old backing guitarist, Jimi Hendrix. The band received a lifetime achievement Grammy in 2014 and have sold millions of records the world over; 16 of their albums hit the Top 40 and all of them are powerhouses on the R&B charts. They have bridged cultural differences by blending Soul and R&B with Funk, bringing a new style of music to the mainstream and having a lasting impact on countless artists to follow. Their music has transcended through generations and their reach has extended to the modern day where their music is frequently sampled all throughout hip hop and modern pop. They are, in many respects, the most important and influential band in the history of American music, the only band who could be sampled by Notorious B.I.G. and covered by The Yardbirds! What a career!
Released in 1959, “Shout!” is an electrifying anthem that broke the mold of R&R and R&B, becoming an enduring symbol of musical joy and freedom. The song’s inception, inspired by a liveΒ improvisation on Jackie Wilson’s “Lonely Teardrops,” captured a spontaneous burst of energy and emotion. The studio recording, characterized by its gospel-infused harmonies and a simple yet profound chorus urged listeners to release their inhibitions and “shout a little bit louder nowβ.
Though “Shout” didn’t immediately climb the charts, its influence and popularity grew over time, becoming a live performance staple for the Isley Brothers. Covered by numerous artists across a variety of genres, “Shout” has demonstrated its versatile appeal and enduring legacy. It’s more than just a song β¦. it’s an anthem of liberation and celebration.
Here now are the Isley Brothers with their iconic recording of βShout!β
Come in, little one. Youβve nothing to fear from me. Donβt be shy now. Come away from the door where you are peeking and step inside. This is my enchanted place, my special magic space.
Thatβs it, child, one step at a time. Look around to your heartβs content. Thereβs nothing bad here. But I must caution you not to touch anything. The time will come for that and you must be patient.
Ah, I see youβve noticed my book. Itβs lovely, isnβt it? I donβt suppose youβve ever seen one quite like it, have you? You have many questions, little one. Theyβre in you eyes, in the slight tilt of your head and the almost imperceptible upturn of your lips. Itβs pleasing, is it not, this little book of mine?
Itβs magic, you know. But then again, in the right hands, all books are magic. Yes itβs true. You hold the key, child. Not in your pocket or inside your shoe but in your mind and in your heart.
Come closer, child. Read from the book, listen to what it tells you. Enchanting, isnβt it? No need to touch, my dear. The pages will turn themselves.
I know what youβre thinking. Where can you get such a wondrous book? Am I right? I knew it! Theyβre all around you, child! Everywhere! But I have something special to share with you. Come close to hear my secret. Let me whisper in your ear.
My dear, not only can you read these beguiling pages. You can write them! Imagine the places you will visit, child.
Thereβs nothing to fear, little one. Simply step inside the blue bubble and all will become clear to you. Thatβs it, child. Step inside the magic land of books and dreams and amazing ideas. Itβs a captivating place. Enchanting, isnβt it?
Dedicated to my 7th grade teacher, Mrs. Romana Paschal, who encouraged me to write and whispered in my ear to reach for the all the dreams, little and big.
Taking a music blogging break for the summer but I won’t be MIA! I’ll be popping in and out randomly as the mood strikes and also checking out your posts as usual.
I’m changing things up here on Mondays at The Trunk, focusing on a new topic which I’m very excited about …. something near and dear to me from my hometown of New York City!
Join me here in September with my all new theme! I’m looking forward to welcoming you back!
Here it is …. the so-called unofficial start of summer …. and we’re celebrating Memorial Day once again in my neck of the woods β Southern Westchester County in New York. In case youβre not familiar with the area, Manhattan is about a 45-minute drive south β far enough away for us to be in the suburbs but close enough to get into NYC for a show or dinner if we want to. Weβre approximately an hour from Jones Beach heading east out to Long Island and 2 hours from the Catskill Mountains up north.
Weβre in a nice spot and weβve loved living here for 45+ years but we often bring up the topic of making a move. And why would we do that if itβs so nice here? Two big reasons: stupid-high property taxes and ever-increasing congestion.
Our little village was exactly that when we moved here; now the population has exploded and every family member old enough to drive has a car. We live on a very quiet cul de sac and never think about the congestion in town until we actually have to go to town. What used to be a 5 minute drive to the supermarket or post office is now triple that (or more) because of the number of cars, trucks and school buses on the move .β¦ and letβs not even start talking about road work! Thereβs construction everywhere we look and some of it takes years to accomplish. By then, itβs time to start repairs again! Move it!
So, if we did decide to leave New York, the big question is β¦. where would we move to? I have no idea! It seems like everyone complains about the same problems of high taxes and too much congestion no matter where they live. Besides, the physical act of clearing out the house, packing up, moving and relocating at this stage of our lives is daunting; I can barely manage packing for vacation!
Things to think about, for sure. For now, I think Iβll move out onto the deck, sit in my lounge chair, drink my iced tea and listen to the birds. Bill will light the grill around 2PM; now that you know where I live, cβmon over!
It’s time to roll out some Nat King Cole and “Those Lazy Hazy Crazy Days of Summer”!
The Elephant's Trunk 