Short Story

Just An Average Junkie

Alright, alright, alright!
It’s time once again for a Six Sentence Story,
this time incorporating the word ‘remote’.
Here’s mine, with a few other prompts just for fun.

The reflection of my timeworn face in the bathroom mirror is harrowing, one I still can’t accept is me .… someone who was always strikingly attractive, impeccably dressed with my designer labels neatly tucked away and out of sight; these days I see only one person on a regular basis and he doesn’t give a shit what I look like as long as I have the money to pay him. 

There’s that old twitch in my left eye, an unwelcome reminder that a killer headache and nausea are about to overtake me if I don’t eat some Skittles, a much more socially acceptable term than that hushed-up, dirty little name that makes all the so-called ‘well-adjusted’ people cringe as though in the presence of a leper; fucking hypocrites who gleefully suck up their  gummies and hemp oil and legalized medical marijuana while sipping on their “superb organic Pouilly-Fiussé”

 My hands are shaking in equal amounts of excitement and desperation as I check out what my guy has delivered today – reds, blues and yellows – a difficult choice, to be sure, but the numerous voices in my head have made a unanimous decision: mellow yellow to match my jaundiced skintone and disposition; yes, I’ve read the headlines and the fine print warnings – I’m not an idiot, you know, and that makes me laugh out loud! 

Let’s see what’s in the magician’s box to fix this sallow complexion …. spackle-like primer to fill in the yawning crevices around my mouth, foundation with a bit of a dewy finish (or so the advertisements promise), creamy rosy blush for my cheeks, glossy brush-on plumper for luscious lips, pencil to fill in my threadbare brows, glittery highlighter to lessen the deep-set appearance of my eyes and layer upon layer of mascara on my straggly lashes.

Looking at my reflection once again, I see that I’m now back .… returned from the dead, if you will …. and I look sensational, provocative and sensual with just the right touch of promiscuousness, yet there are two burned-out, remote eyes blankly staring back at me. 

I slip into my work clothes, ready for another night hitting the pavement, when I feel that familiar sensation and I’m faced with the recurring stalemate – whether I should just take all the pretty candy, lie down and pray I never wake up or put myself back on the meat market to earn enough money for another bag of Skittles; “Fuck it, I’m already dressed” I think as I pop a red and slam the door behind me.

NAR©2024

This is “The Pusher” by Steppenwolf

All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and is not for use by anyone without permission. NAR©2017-present.

Music Blog

Twofer Tuesday 3.12

Lou Reed died just over a decade ago, but his influence on the world of Rock & Roll remains undimmed. The life and work of the Velvet Underground‘s main man and solo superstar has been celebrated in the new covers album, The Power of the Heart: A Tribute to Lou Reed. Keith Richards has released an excellent B&W video of the Velvet Underground’s classic “I’m Waiting For The Man” in honor of what would have been Lou’s 82nd birthday on March 2.

Let’s listen to Lou Reed performing “I’m Waiting For The Man”. Gotta love Lou’s intro.

And here’s Keith’s new cover of “I’m Waiting For The Man”

Damn! I love music!

See you on the flip side. 😎

NAR©2024

All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and is not for use by anyone without permission. NAR©2017-present.

Short Prose

Never The Same

Our host Björn at dVerse Poets has asked us to write
no more than 144 words, incorporating the highlighted line
from Tomas Tranströmer’s poem “After Someone’s Death.”

The night of my husband’s funeral was the loneliest point in my life. After everyone went home, I was totally alone in the house I shared with Ned for 12 years. I don’t ever remember the house being so cold and quiet. Moonlight engulfed our bedroom yet emptiness was all around. I sat on Ned’s side of the bed and ran my hands over his pillow. It was shockingly cold and my mind drifted back to this morning in Arlington. Row upon row of neat marble headstones, Ned’s fallen brothers in arms, all the names swallowed up by the cold. Hugging his pillow tightly, I cried for the first time in three days. There was a gaping hole in my heart, in my life, and I knew I would never be the same. I don’t ever remember the house being so cold and quiet.

NAR©2024
144 Words

This is “Brothers In Arms” by Dire Straits

All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and is not for use by anyone without permission. NAR©2017-present.

Uncategorized

MMMM: Love On A Tuesday Night – The Sound of One Hand Typing

This is a reblog of John’s post from The Sound of  One Hand Typing. I enjoyed it so much, I wanted to share it with you. Now I have to talk to John again to find out how he does all those “inserty” types of things. So envious of people with mad techie skills!!

I came up with this prompt based on something Maggie (who I haven’t seen in some time) did one Valentine’s Day: write a love story with song titles interspersed as some of the story. I think Cathy said use songs from a Valentine’s Day, but really any survey would do. I used the WLS Silver…

Source: MMMM: Love On A Tuesday Night – The Sound of One Hand Typing

Music Blog

Monday Motown Magic 3.11

The Motown Sound has something extra-special about it. Berry Gordy, Jr. knew people would be listening on their car stereos and transistor radios and he was going to do what it took to make songs sound good and memorable. Even if you couldn’t put your finger on it, when a Motown song came on, baby, you knew it. Still do.

Summer 1960. The start of the Motown labels empire. Still a teenager, Mary Wells pitched a song to Berry Gordy Jr. which was written for Jackie Wilson. That took a lot of guts! This was the start; Mary Wells would soon earn the title “Queen of Motown”.

Turn up the volume; it’s time to get your groove on.

This is “Bye Bye Baby” by Mary Wells

And on the B Side we have “Please Forgive Me”

Thanks for joining me today.

See you on the flip side. 😎

NAR©2024

All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and is not for use by anyone without permission. NAR©2017-present.

Flash, Poem

In The Dark

A Dectina Refrain and a short poem
for Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt.
Word requirement is 65, prompt word is “tap”.

Tap
tapping
on my door.
Who can it be?
It’s too dark to see
but the noise just won’t stop.
I get up from the sofa
and tippy toe to the front door;
peek through the window but no one’s there.
Tap tapping on my door. Who can it be?

Noise from outside.
It’s too dark to see.
No place to hide.
Stop watching me!

NAR©2024


This is Billy Squier with “In The Dark”

All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and is not for use by anyone without permission. NAR©2017-present.

Short Story

Ooh, Baby!

In response to a prompt from Carrot Ranch,
write a 99 word story (no more, no less)
about an awkward situation.

When I was newly married, my husband and I lived in an apartment building. It was a nice place, quiet, and we only saw the people who lived on our floor.

I’d run into Meg by the elevator every so often; she was extremely pregnant.

This one particular day I saw Meg and realized it had been a while since our last elevator meeting. Noticing her protruding belly, I said “You must be getting close now, eh?”

She stared at me and bluntly responded “I had the baby three weeks ago.”

Eyes darting, mumbling “Congratulations”, I fled the scene!

NAR©2024
99 Words

https://carrotranch.com/2024/03/05/march-5-story-challenge-in-99-words/

This is Brenda Lee with “Baby Face”

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Music Blog

Near Death Experience

Jim at Song Lyric Sunday has informed us the suggestion for today is to write about a song(s) dealing with God or the afterlife. There are a lot of songs in this category and I considered a few but in the end I chose to write about something personal to me. And I’ve got an Elephant’s Trunk full of stories!

Fifty years ago I met and had a brief but memorable conversation with Cat Stevens. It was the summer of 1974 in the Hamptons at one of those parties where everyone was a friend of a friend of a friend. My husband was off getting us drinks and I suddenly found myself in the same place at the same time as Cat Stevens. We talked for a little while, mostly about Southampton, NY and Southampton, UK and the vast Atlantic Ocean – how, after crossing it fairly often, it no longer felt quite as vast to him as it originally did. Well, that’s what he talked about; I was swept away by his delightful accent, lost in his deep eyes and the dark curls that framed his face. After our little tête-à-tête, he went one way, I went the other and that was that. Of course I remember that day like it happened last week; I’m absolutely certain Cat Stevens has no recollection of me whatsoever. Damn! What I wouldn’t give for a selfie from back then!

Over the last five decades, Cat Stevens has led a wholly unique music career. After finding himself a crucial part of the early 70s singer-songwriting boom, he found faith in Islam following a near-death experience in 1976. He almost drowned off the coast of Malibu, California, and said he shouted, “Oh, God! If you save me I will work for you.” He stated that immediately afterwards, a wave appeared and carried him back to shore. This brush with death intensified his long-held quest for spiritual truth. Changing his name to Yusuf Islam, Cat discarded his guitar in favor of the Qur’an, much to the disappointment of his devoted fans.

However, it seems Cat Stevens was exploring his spirituality long before 1976 when he wrote “Lilywhite” in the late 60s. The lyrics “the dial” and “wheel of change” refer to the Buddhist concept of reincarnation, the cycle of life and death. This is also hinted at in the first line, “Back up on the mended road”.

In an interview with Mojo in 2009, Stevens remembered the “amazingly bad trip” that inspired him to write “Lilywhite”: I was at Noel Redding’s house (Jimi Hendrix Experience), and he introduced me to this substance. That was the worst night of my life! We were in his flat. By the time it got to dawn and I was able to get to the door, it had snowed and it was like looking at an angelic gift from heaven! It was beautiful. The song represents a recapturing of that moment where after darkness comes light.”

Unfortunately “Lilywhite” has been eclipsed by some of Stevens’ hits but remains an essential part of his repertoire among devoted fans.

From his album Mona Bone Jakon, this is “Lilywhite” by Cat Stevens.

Lyrics

Back up on the mended road
I pause
Taking time to check the dial

And the Lilywhite
I never knew her name
But she’ll be passing my way sometime again.

I raise my hand and touch the wheel
Of change
Taking time to check the dial

Thank the Lilywhite
I never knew her name
But she’ll be passing my way sometime again.
But she’ll be passing my way sometime again.

Source: LyricFind
Songwriters: Yusuf Islam
Lilywhite lyrics © BMG Rights Management

Thanks for sharing some time with me. FYI – Cat Stevens was as soft-spoken, humble and charming as you imagine him being. A lovely man, inside and out.

See you on the flip side. 😎

NAR©2024

All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and is not for use by anyone without permission. NAR©2017-present.

Miscellaneous

Thankful Thoughts

Clark at Wakefield Doctrine is asking us to join bloggers
from all over the world as we come together

to share those things that we are thankful for.
He has asked for ten; I’m sure I have many more than that.

First place on my list is my husband Bill who does everything from changing tires to changing diapers. He has always been a hands-on partner, happily helping me in more ways than I can count.

I am grateful for our sons, their wives and their children, all of whom seem to have turned out to be perfectly normal, happy and well-adjusted.

I’m thankful for the four seasons and, as much as I dislike snow, we have a top-notch snow removal system in our town.

Being a good cook able to prepare a variety of meals; take out is a rare treat.

We have great neighbors who also happen to be dear friends. We’ve shared happy times and have waited anxiously together in the emergency room. We are here for each other.

Häagen-Dazs coffee ice cream and Dunkin Donuts Iced Cappuccino. Enough said.

Good movies and baseball games to watch from my recliner while eating the aforementioned Häagen-Dazs.

Music and the ability to create it, listen to it, feel it in my soul and blog about it.

I am eternally grateful for accepting the challenge to write a 250-word story back in 2017. If not for that, I would not be sharing my stories with you today, meeting people and making friends along the way.

And finally, I’m thankful for the longer periods of daylight that come with Spring and even though it means losing an hour of sleep, it’s ok …. today is a free day with nothing to do and nowhere to go. Changing the clocks is silly; I vote we stick to DST all year long.

Thanks to Clark for giving me the chance to write about ten things for which I am grateful.

Take care, stay well, be safe always and give thanks!

NAR©2024

PS: I am supremely thankful for George Harrison, an extremely talented musician as well as a funny, introspective, thoughtful, spiritual and quietly accepting man.

This is George Harrison with “Thanks For The Pepperoni”

All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and is not for use by anyone without permission. NAR©2017-present.

Short Story

Champagne On Ice

Jenne, our delightful host at The Unicorn Challenge,
has once again asked us to write something creative
in no more than 250 words based on how

the photo below inspires us.
This is my response.

© Ayr/Gray

The pathway to my future seemed incredibly long and I could easily imagine myself escaping down a side aisle. What kind of thought was that for a bride on her wedding day?

“Well, we got lucky, sweetheart; the rain held off. Emme, are you ready? The musicians are waiting for my signal.”

I turned to face my father. “Daddy” was all I managed to eke out before the tears started. I hadn’t called my father Daddy in years. 

Dad motioned for the music to keep playing and magically produced a handkerchief. “What’s going on, kiddo?”

“This doesn’t feel right, Dad. I’m about to marry Gregory because of a promise I made to Mom.”

“Emme, if you want to back out, I’ll stand by whatever decision you make. But it’s best for everyone if you do it now, not after you’re married.” 

 “But you spent so much money to make this day perfect.”

Dad put his hands on my shoulders. “Damn the money and damn the promises. All I want is for you to be happy. If you think this is a mistake, say the word. My car is parked right outside.”

“What about Gregory?” I asked biting my bottom lip.

“I’ll talk to him privately, Emme. Don’t worry about that.”

I looked at my father and quickly nodded. He reached into his pocket and handed me the keys to his car.

Go on now. I have some explaining to do.” He kissed my cheek and took off down the path.

NAR©2024
250 Words

This is “Hotel California” by the Eagles

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Poem

And So It Begins ~ Ovi Poem

A pretty girl with hair like gold

Met a boy who was very bold

He said ‘I’ll love you till we’re old’

And stole her heart away

NAR©2024

This is Jimmy Charles and the Revellettes with “A Million To One”

Lines 1-3 are 8 syllables and must rhyme
Line 4 is less than 8 syllables and must not rhyme

All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and is not for use by anyone without permission. NAR©2017-present.

Flash

Old Glory

The gracious Rochelle at Friday Fictioneers
is challenging us to write something creative
in 100 words or less to go with this photo.
This is my response to that challenge.

Photo Prompt © Rowena Curtin

I’ve been married so long, Betsy Ross was my maid of honor!

Our first house was an impressive five-bedroom Colonial with loads of property. Fifty-two years ago it cost $68,000; today that money can buy a car.

The house was white with navy blue trim and a red door. As an excited new homeowner and proud American, I planted red and white impatiens and coral red begonias in all the window boxes.

There was no white picket fence but we did have a proper flagpole and hoisted Old Glory every morning …. much to the chagrin of my communist next-door neighbor.

NAR©2024
100 Words

This is “Our House” by Crosby, Stills & Nash

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Music Blog

Houston’s Song Of The Week

Don’t worry. I won’t bore you with endless chatter. Truly, I don’t have much more to say other than “Follow this guy”! Houston Roby is an excellent source of info, great music and interesting tidbits about music/bands/songs/etc …. some which may be new to us and others we forgot we even knew. Whatever the case, he’s definitely worth a read and a listen, I assure you. Enjoy today’s post.

Take it away, Houston!

NAR©2024

All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and is not for use by anyone without permission. NAR©2017-present.

Music Blog

Birthday Thursdays

Welcome to Birthday Thursdays! Each week I will feature someone from the world of music whose birthday falls on that day. There won’t be any chit chat from me, no facts and figures – just some great tunes (and an occasional surprise). Check it out right here every Thursday and enjoy the music.

Happy Birthday to Peter Wolf
Born March 7, 1946 in The Bronx, New York

Love Stinks” by the J. Geils Band

The J. Geils Band with “Freeze Frame”

Centerfold” by the J. Geils Band

NAR © 2024

Short Story

Spring Ahead

Are you ready to cast off the winter doldrums and rejoin the land of the living? I know I am! Although daylight has been lasting a bit longer each day, the change is imperceptible. However, on Sunday here in The States we will turn our clocks ahead one hour as Daylight Saving Time begins. Spring ahead, fall back. Losing that one precious hour of sleep will be worth it just to close the door on Old Man Winter.

It seems the older I get the less I like cold weather. I’ve never been a fan of winter, not even as a child. While all the other kids were sledding and skating, I’d be watching them from my window under a cozy blanket drinking hot cocoa. Not much has changed! I’m a “beach bum”, not a “snow bunny” and much prefer walking into the surf than trudging through the drifts.

Winter is when everything turns grey and fades away. The birds fly south and the trees go bare. The deserted playground swings get tossed about in the cold wind and wisps of smoke spiral out from chimney tops as families enjoy the warmth of their fireplaces.

It takes forever for people to get dressed to go outside – donning boots, parkas, scarves, hats and gloves – then they make a mad dash from the house to the car and another dash when they arrive at their destination, hoping they don’t suffer a “mad dash ass smash” in their icy haste. Believe me – the ‘slip-sliding away’ happens and it ain’t pretty! How about the hundreds of people waiting for public transportation? Fur-lined hoods pulled up over their heads, faces red and chafed, lips cracked and sore, noses dripping and eyes tearing from the wind. Talk about “your huddled masses yearning to breathe free”!

In less than two weeks spring will arrive. Boots will be replaced with sandals, snowsuits with bathing suits, winter skis with water skis, hot chocolate with lemonade, sleds with bicycles, snowballs with baseballs and winter mittens with gardening gloves.

March winds bring April showers and April showers bring May flowers. Is there anything lovelier than a sunny day in spring? The birds have returned and are chirping their little hearts out. The resilient crocuses and daffodils have popped up through the defrosting earth and tiny buds are forming on the trees. Now is the time for planting seeds and saplings that were started months ago inside warm houses. The sky is clear, the sun is shining and there’s just a hint of a breeze. Couples walk hand-in-hand through the park and the playgrounds have come back to life. Children pitch tents in their backyards and dads grill the first hot dogs of the season.

I’ve often said I don’t like February; it’s the shortest month but to me it feels like the longest and the loneliest. Now March is here and it came in more like a lamb than a lion with temps in the 40s and only a slight breeze.

You’ll get no complaining from me – not yet, anyway. But it’s still early; why, it’s not even April. Just wait for the blazing summer sun, the mad dashes to our cars to blast the AC, the scalding hot sand at the beach, the highways jammed with people escaping the city for a week at the shore, the lines at the ice cream stands, the agony of a blistering sunburn and the howling dog days of August.

When will autumn get here? There’s just no pleasing some people!

NAR©2024

This is Nina Simone with “It Might As Well Be Spring”

All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and is not for use by anyone without permission. NAR©2017-present.

Miscellaneous

Tell Me No Lies

This is a new challenge for me …. an episode of Truthful Tuesday. The idea is to respond to the question (or questions) being asked and to be 100% truthful in our responses. No glib answers, no funny business, no fibs. Just raw honesty.

For this week’s Truthful Tuesday, our host Frank says:

We’re going to play a game of “This or That.” Even if something else is truly your favorite, the idea isn’t necessarily to get to the favorite, but to reveal which of the two options you would prefer. I will accept a vote of neither if there is truly no preference between the two listed, but don’t provide a third alternative.

Spring or Summer? Spring
Summer or Autumn?
Summer
Autumn or Winter?
Autumn
Spring or Autumn?
Spring
Summer or Winter?
Summer
Spring or Winter?
Spring


Picnic in the park or Backyard barbecue?
Backyard barbecue. I’m not a sit-in-the-grass type of girl. I don’t like bugs or even the thought of something crawling on me. I love a good grilled steak or burger and a nice wine or ice cold beer, sitting on my deck, watching the birds, talking to my husband. I like being able to go inside whenever I want to and not having to hunt for a bathroom or chance getting caught in the rain.


Dining outside or Dining inside?
Dining inside for all the reasons I mentioned above. I’ll eat outside before the mosquitoes come out or the humidity sets in but after that, I’m inside watching the ballgame.


Cooking out (backyard grill) or Eating out (restaurant)?
Well, obviously it depends on the occasion but I’d have to say “cooking out (backyard grill)”. I’m well beyond that point in my life where I need or want to get dressed to go out with a bunch of people I don’t know or like and having to pay ridiculous prices for food I can probably cook just as well at home. However, I do enjoy going to a restaurant for a special occasion and have a few coming up over the next couple of months that I’m really looking forward to.


Fresh cut flowers or Potted plants?
Definitely potted plants! I have a green thumb and many plants in my sunroom. I welcome the gift of a plant over flowers any day.

NAR©2024

This is “Lies” by the Knickerbockers

All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and is not for use by anyone without permission. NAR©2017-present.

Short Story

Sock It To Me

Denise at GirlieOnTheEdge is once again
challenging us to write a Six Sentence Story
using the word “ace”. This is my story.

The other night as I was getting undressed and ready for bed, I pulled off my sock and saw something on the sole that looked like a bit of fuzz or a piece of string but upon closer inspection I realized it was something imprinted on the bottom of the sock itself; since I can’t see a thing without my glasses, I thought it was the letter A for the company name which is Ace USA but I soon found out it was the letter L, obviously for LEFT.  

What are the odds!” I declared to myself, rather tickled by the fact that I put the LEFT sock on my left foot without even checking the bottom of the sock, but when I took off the other sock, fully expecting to see the letter R indicating the RIGHT sock, I was confounded when I saw another L! 

“Just my luck” I again proclaimed to myself, somewhat annoyed that I would be the one to get a defective pair of socks, with two LEFT socks and no RIGHT sock! 

I promised myself that in the morning I would call Ace USA and encourage them to correct their oversight by sending me two RIGHT socks, one as a mate for one of the LEFT socks and the other as a mate for the other LEFT sock, leaving me with two perfectly functioning pairs of socks. 

The next morning I called Ace USA, explained my problem to Eleanor in customer services and requested two RIGHT socks to match my two LEFT socks; well, I’m sure you can imagine what a good laugh I had when Eleanor sweetly explained that the L on the bottom of my socks did not stand for LEFT but rather for LARGE.

Now I find myself rethinking that box in the front closet full of defective mittens.

NAR©2024

This is Aretha Franklin with “Respect”

All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and is not for use by anyone without permission. NAR©2017-present.

Music Blog

A NEW WORLD RECORD

Written for Glyn’s Mixed Music Bag #10, March Monthly Challenge Week 10 where we are asked to write about a song by any group or solo singer beginning with the letter E or F.

The only problem with songs like “Telephone Line”, “Mr. Blue Sky”, “Don’t Bring Me Down”, “Livin’ Thing” or “Evil Woman” is trying to figure out which one I want to listen to first. These days with online streaming services such as Amazon Music, YouTube, Spotify, etc., it’s so easy for us to listen to tunes wherever, whenever we want.

The songs titles I mentioned are just a handful of the great hits by ELO, that little rock band formed in 1970 in Birmingham, England by Jeff Lynne, Roy Wood and Bev Bevan. Their idea was to create a band that used orchestral instruments such as woodwinds, horns, and strings as the main focus rather than guitars. It was a crazy idea but it took off and the group achieved global success.

Over the years, just like all groups, there were disagreements, splits, total breakups. Apart from a brief reunion in the early 2000s, ELO remained largely inactive until 2014, when Jeff Lynne re-formed the band as Jeff Lynne’s ELO.

I had no idea which song to feature today so I read the names to my 4-year-old granddaughter and asked her to choose one .… that’s the truth! Of course, like any 4-year-old, she said “Mr. Blue Sky” (she laughed at that title) but since I wrote about that one not long ago for Jim Adams’ Song Lyric Sunday, I decided to go with a different one.

“Livin’ Thing” was written and produced by Jeff Lynne; it appears on ELO’s 1976 album “A New World Record” and was also released as a single. Music critics have said it’s “an extremely catchy record that has all the vocal and instrumental hooks to keep you listening”. Who am I to argue with that? And if you’re wondering about the meaning of the song, who better to ask than the guy who wrote it? Jeff Lynne has this to say: “’Livin’ Thing’ is simply a love song. Everybody would always say, oh, that’s about a whale or it’s about orgasms or it’s about whatever, lots of different things. It wasn’t really about that at all. It was just about love.” Nice one, Jeff.

This is “Livin’ Thing” by ELO:

Lyrics

Sailin’ away on the crest of a wave, it’s like magic
Oh, rollin’ and ridin’ and slippin’ and slidin’, it’s magic

And you and your sweet desire
You took me, oh (higher and higher, baby)

It’s a livin’ thing
It’s a terrible thing to lose
It’s a givin’ thing
What a terrible thing to lose

I’m takin’ a dive
Dive

Makin’ believe this is what you’ve conceived
From your worst day (I’m takin’ a dive)
Oh, movin’ in line, then you look back in time
To the first day (I’m takin’, I’m takin’)

And you and your sweet desire (don’t you do it, don’t you do it)
You took me, oh (higher and higher, baby)

It’s a livin’ thing
It’s a terrible thing to lose
It’s a givin’ thing
What a terrible thing to lose

I’m takin’ a dive
All the same
Hey

Takin’ a dive, ’cause you can’t halt the slide
Floating downstream (I’m takin’ a dive)
Oh, so let her go, don’t start spoiling the show
It’s a bad dream (I’m takin’, I’m takin’)

And you and your sweet desire (don’t you do it, don’t you do it)
You took me, oh (higher and higher, baby)

It’s a livin’ thing
It’s a terrible thing to lose
It’s a givin’ thing
What a terrible thing to lose

It’s a livin’ thing
It’s a terrible thing to lose
It’s a givin’ thing

Source: Musixmatch
Songwriters: Jeff Lynne
Livin’ Thing lyrics © Emi Blackwood Music Inc.

NAR©2024

All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and is not for use by anyone without permission. NAR©2017-present.

Story

Riddles Of Love

I wrote this fairytale 14 years ago
for my eldest granddaughter, Mckenna.
I have revised it for my youngest, Colette.

~ THE KING’S DECREE WAS SENT OUT ACROSS THE LAND ~

PRINCES OF MAGONIA!
YOU ARE SUMMONED TO TAKE UP THE CHALLENGE
FOR THE HAND OF HER ROYAL HIGHNESS, PRINCESS AMIRA!

Fifty answered the royal command. Upon seeing Princess Amira, they all gasped; she was a stunning beauty. Her unblemished skin as pure as snow, her eyes sparkling ice blue like crystal waters and her hair the color of the stars. Her loveliness was matched only by her brilliant mind and pure heart. She longed to be married but found most men boring, ignorant and foolish. 

Amira motioned for the princes to sit and in a confident voice she addressed them: 

“One among you will be my husband! Marriage is not based solely on appearances. To win my hand, you must be smart, interesting, humorous and brave. These fifty parchments, one for each of you, contain three riddles. You have two days to solve them. Record your answers on the parchment and return them to Zora, my lady-in-waiting. Use your brain; only a clear head, clever mind and true heart will win my hand.”

Forty gave up on the first day. On day two, the remaining ten reported to Princess Amira’s lady. Nine answered the riddles incorrectly and were dismissed. Only one answered all the riddles correctly. Now it was time for Zora to present the victor to Amira. 

“Greetings, clever prince! What is your name?” 

“I am Khalil but I am no prince. I am squire to Prince Wahid. He was unable to answer your riddles. He fled in embarrassment and I secretly took his place.”

“And you can answer them? Let us see! Zora will read the riddles.”

The first question was offered: “What is born each night and dies each dawn?” 

Khalil answered correctly: “Hope”. Amira was impressed but showed no reaction.

Zora posed the second riddle: “What flares warm like a flame but is not a flame?

Again Khalil answered correctly: “Blood”. Princess Amira was amazed.

Finally, the third question was asked: “What disappears the moment you say its name?

Khalil responded confidently: “Silence”.

“Excellent, Khalil!” said Amira, stunned by Khalil’s clever wit. “All your answers are correct! But I cannot forget that you tried to fool me by pretending to be a prince.”

“Pardon me, your highness; I knew this was my only chance to vie for your hand. Prince Wahid is a dolt, desirous of your wealth and bewitched by your beauty. He is not worthy of you. Please afford me an opportunity to convince you we are truly meant to be together. If I may, I have three riddles to ask you, Princess Amira. If you answer correctly, we will be wed. If not, I am at your mercy.” 

“I am intrigued by your daring nature, Khalil. I will allow your three riddles. Proceed.”

Khalil posed his first riddle to Princess Amira:

“I can only live where there is light but will die if light shines on me. What am I?”

Amira thought for a moment, then answered: “I know! You are a shadow.”

Khalil took a few steps closer to the princess.

“That is correct, your highness” Khalil replied. “Here is your second riddle”:

“The more there is, the less you see. What am I?”

Amira quickly responded with “Darkness.”

Moving closer still, Khalil smiled warmly and whispered “Correct again. And now for your final question, Amira.”

Curious and quite taken by this handsome, clever squire, Amira returned the smile. Khalil began his riddle:

“He is incognito, no birthright of blood royal.
He is patient, caring, determined and loyal.
He has no great wealth but is clever and smart.
He can promise to love you with all his heart.”

Khalil looked deeply into the princess’ eyes. Who am I, Amira?”

Reaching for Khalil’s hands, Amira drew him closer and whispered:

“The answer is you, Khalil! You are my prince and future husband.”

Amira and Khalil found true love at last. They were married and lived a long and happy life.

The End.

NAR©2024

NB: My inspiration for writing this fairytale came after attending a performance of the opera, Turandot. The aria “Nessun dorma” (“Nobody shall sleep) is first heard in Act III of Puccini’s opera and is performed by the protagonist, Calaf, who falls in love with Princess Turandot at first sight. Before the aria, Calaf has successfully answered all of the Princess’ riddles but she is still rebuking his advances. Calaf is sure of his plan to marry the princess as he has challenged her to find out his name by the morning; if she cannot learn his name by the time the sun rises, she has to marry him. In the last line of the aria, the prince expresses his triumphant assurance that he will win the hand of the princess: All’alba vincerò! Vincerò, vincerò, vincerò (At dawn, I will win! Win, win, win!).


From the 1924 opera Turandot by Giacomo Puccini, this is “Nessun dorma”, sung by the maestro, Luciano Pavarotti.

All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and is not for use by anyone without permission. NAR©2017-present.

Story

Walk This Way

When I die, I’m going to donate my body to science. Don’t mistake me, I’m not being altruistic. I’m being realistic. Maybe one of those brilliant doctors or scientists can finally figure out what the fuck was wrong with me; I sure as hell haven’t had any luck so far. This long sought-after info won’t be worth a pile of beans to me cos I’ll be dead …. just saying.

There are 168 hours in one week. Just for fun, let’s divide that in half to represent day and night – awake hours vs asleep hours (not very accurate, I know, but you get the picture). Half of 168 is 84. Of those 84 hours, I experience a tingling sensation for about 70 hours per week, maybe more. And it’s not the good kind of tingling. You know what I mean, wink wink.

When the tingling first started, perhaps two years ago, it was fleeting – much like the feeling you get when your foot is about to fall asleep. It was located in the left side of my lower back and traveled down the back of my left thigh to my knee. It was annoying but not horrible. Over time, the tingling spread down to my toes; now it has also begun to travel up into my back, shoulder and neck …. all on the left side. And it is insatiable …. kinda like that feeling I get when I see Colin Farrell. There are few and far between times when I’ll notice the tingling is gone; it’s sheer bliss and feels absolutely magnificent to be at rest. Then it comes back just a couple of hours later. It’s back right now but this time in both legs! Ain’t that a kick in the head!?

I really enjoy walking but haven’t been getting out as much as I’d like. Walking saved me the last time I had a major flare up. Everything just sort of healed itself. I got my strength and stamina back and I was feeling the best I’d felt in quite a while. I need to get back into walking. I know it sounds like a lame excuse but I really don’t enjoy walking when it’s freezing outside and there are no malls nearby to walk in.

Today was like Spring so I went for a short walk; I took it easy and was out for only about 15 minutes. I do not subscribe to the ”no pain, no gain’‘ school of thought; 15 minutes today was quite enough, thank you. After walking, I relaxed in my recliner for a while with an ice pack, just to be on the safe side. I love my recliner. It’s where I make pit stops during the day, when I need a break from housecleaning, cooking, babysitting. I’ll put my feet up and ice my back and neck and it helps.

Lately my head has developed a tendency to tilt to the left; it happens when I’m watching TV or sleeping or checking out the new house being built across the way or sitting at my Mac, as I am right now. When I get really tired or I’ve pushed myself too far, my lower back will start screaming while my left side becomes an angry buzz of tingles. My head will tilt dramatically to the left and I imagine I must look like Marty Feldman, the actor who played Igor in Mel Brooks’ “Young Frankenstein”. (If you’ve seen the movie, you’ll know that’s Eyegor and Fränkenstēēn). I adore Mel Brooks, the last of the real comedic geniuses. At least I have managed to keep my sense of humor through all this physical bullshit.

Now I’m noticing a lovely new development: it’s all but impossible for me to tilt my head to the right! Ain’t that a kick in the head!? It’s either sitting perfectly straight on my shoulders (which is good!) or tilting to the left. There’s a tendon, I think, that is stretched to the max like a big fat fully extended rubber band and it’s tight as a drum. I’m pretty damn sure that’s what’s keeping me from tilting my head to the right. I saw my orthopedist the other day; she felt around my shoulders and said “Jeez, you’re really tight!” Ya think!?!

I’ve had multiple trigger point injections, nerve blocks, epidurals and cortisone shots, all resulting in extremely short term relief. X-Rays, scans and MRIs show a lot of arthritis, spinal stenosis and some funkiness going on with my discs but nothing “remarkable”. How can that be? Ain’t that a freakin’ kick in the head!? Hey! Maybe that’ll set everything straight …. a good kick in the head!

So, here’s the plan: next week I’m going to have another bilateral shot in my lower back in the hope it will “alleviate my discomfort”. If it doesn’t, I’ll have another series of MRIs to see if anything has changed over the 12 months since my last set of MRIs. It will be fantastic if the shot helps but I’m not betting the house on it. One thing is certain: after this upcoming shot, I’m done with injections. I’ve had it so wish me luck! Well, you might be interested in knowing that besides the arthritis/stenosis, there’s not another single thing wrong with me. I’m in perfect health, totally aware of what’s happening to this “vessel” in which I exist. Ain’t that a kick in the head!?

My mister is one of the funniest people I know and we make each other laugh. It’s not always easy keeping a good sense of humor but it helps me get through everything. And to be perfectly honest …. I’m getting really tired of walking around like Igor!

From Mel Brooks’ “Young Frankenstein”, the first meeting of Igor and Dr. Frankenstein:

This is Dean Martin with “Ain’t That A Kick In The Head”

NAR©2024

All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and is not for use by anyone without permission. NAR©2017-present.

Flash

Purification

Not
a peep
did she make
in her white dress
receiving the Holy Spirit.
Amen.

NAR©2024
15 Words

This is Dalai Lama meditation, “Purification”

All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and is not for use by anyone without permission. NAR©2017-present.

Music Blog

A Perfect Storm

Today at Song Lyric Sunday, Jim is asking us to write about a song based on true events. My husband Bill and I have lived near the water all our lives; he grew up on City Island in New York and spent all his teen years working in marinas repairing boats. Years ago we bought a boat which was supposed to be a fun family get-away adventure until we realized I get heinously seasick; Bill uses it for fishing. Before Covid, we spent 35 summers in Montauk, NY with the Atlantic Ocean as our view. It’s only natural that I would be drawn to a song about a nautical event.

The SS Edmund Fitzgerald sank in Lake Superior 49 years ago. Gordon Lightfoot’s song “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald” (1976, Moose Music, Ltd.) is a tribute to this shipwreck and the men who lost their lives.

On November 9, 1975, the Edmund Fitzgerald departed from Superior, Wisconsin with approximately 26,000 tons of ore bound for Detroit, Michigan. Just think about that for a second …. 26,000 tons; the cargo weighed more than the ship itself. Around 7 p.m. the National Weather Service issued a gale warning for Lake Superior. Overnight the winds increased tremendously and waves grew to incredible heights; no longer protected by land, the Fitzgerald was in terrible danger. At some point, another ship – the Anderson – made radio contact with the Fitzgerald and had her on their radar. When asked how the Fitzgerald was making out, they replied “We’re holding our own”. Shortly afterwards, the Fitzgerald disappeared from the Anderson’s radar screen.

There are phrases in the song that have been embellished, romanticized, making it sound as if the crew knew they were doomed. In reality, the sinking of the Fitzgerald was very rapid and it’s likely they didn’t know the seriousness of their condition. Thank the gods for that! In fact, after the wreck, a severely damaged lifeboat was found and only part of the second, suggesting that no attempts were made to leave the ship. No distress signals were ever issued. They didn’t know what hit them.

On November 10, 1975 the SS Edmund Fitzgerald sank in Lake Superior; all 29 crew members died. At the time, it was the worst shipping disaster on the Great Lakes in more than 10 years. No bodies were ever recovered from the wreckage. When the wreck was found, the ship had broken in half by the storm. It still sits on the bottom of Lake Superior at 530 feet deep.

“The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald” was written, composed and performed by Canadian singer-songwriter Gordon Lightfoot. The song was recorded in December 1975 at Eastern Sound, a recording studio in a then-hippie district of downtown Toronto. The famous studio was later torn down and replaced by a parking lot …. cue Joni Mitchell! Lightfoot cleared the studio and killed all the lights except for the one illuminating the paper with his scribbled words when he recorded his vocals; he considered this song to be his finest work.

The single version hit #1 in Lightfoot’s native Canada on November 20, 1976, barely a year after the disaster. In the US it reached #1 in Cashbox and #2 for two weeks in the Billboard Hot 100. Overseas it was at best a minor hit, peaking at #40 in the UK Singles Chart. 

This is “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald” by Gordon Lightfoot

Lyrics

The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they call Gitchegumee
The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead
When the skies of November turn gloomy
With a load of iron ore twenty-six thousand tons more
Than the Edmund Fitzgerald weighed empty
That good ship and true was a bone to be chewed
When the gales of November came early

The ship was the pride of the American side
Coming back from some mill in Wisconsin
As the big freighters go, it was bigger than most
With a crew and good captain well-seasoned
Concluding some terms with a couple of steel firms
When they left fully loaded for Cleveland
And later that night when the ship’s bell rang
Could it be the north wind they’d been feelin’?

The wind in the wires made a tattle-tale sound
And a wave broke over the railing
And every man knew, as the captain did too
T’was the witch of November come stealin’
The dawn came late and the breakfast had to wait
When the gales of November came slashin’
When afternoon came it was freezin’ rain
In the face of a hurricane west wind

When suppertime came, the old cook came on deck sayin’
“Fellas, it’s too rough to feed ya”
At 7 PM, a main hatchway caved in, he said
“Fellas, it’s been good to know ya”
The captain wired in he had water comin’ in
And the good ship and crew was in peril
And later that night when his lights went outta sight
Came the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald

Does anyone know where the love of God goes
When the waves turn the minutes to hours?
The searchers all say they’d have made Whitefish Bay
If they’d put fifteen more miles behind her
They might have split up or they might have capsized
They may have broke deep and took water
And all that remains is the faces and the names
Of the wives and the sons and the daughters

Lake Huron rolls, Superior sings
In the rooms of her ice-water mansion
Old Michigan steams like a young man’s dreams
The islands and bays are for sportsmen
And farther below Lake Ontario
Takes in what Lake Erie can send her
And the iron boats go as the mariners all know
With the gales of November remembered

In a musty old hall in Detroit they prayed
In the maritime sailors’ cathedral
The church bell chimed ’til it rang twenty-nine times
For each man on the Edmund Fitzgerald
The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they call Gitchegumee
Superior, they said, never gives up her dead
When the gales of November come early

Source: LyricFind
Songwriters: Gordon Lightfoot
The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc

NAR©2024

All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and is not for use by anyone without permission. NAR©2017-present.

Poem

Life Pages ~ A Senryu

Life is strange –

One minute you’re thick as thieves

The next, you’re dismissed

NAR©2024

This is the Moody Blues with “Isn’t Life Strange”

All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and is not for use by anyone without permission. NAR©2017-present.

Short Story

Club Kashmir

Lovely Jenne from The Unicorn Challenge
is teasing us once again with this photo.
We are to get creative in 250 words or less.
In exactly 250 words, this is my response.

© Ayr/Gray

Coroner? What do we need the coroner for?” asked Police Sergeant Jeffries. “It’s obvious this poor slob jumped off the roof. Just look at him!”

Not so fast, Jeffries” snapped Police Captain Russo. “Take a close look at his hand.”

Knowing his boss was expecting him to man up, Jeffries crouched down near the splattered corpse. God, he hated jumpers.

You know what I think, Cap? This guy was some sort of perv into the kinky stuff. That bottle in his hand is from Club Kashmir, the notorious sex den.” Jeffries looked up at his superior hoping to have made a good impression.

Jeffries, sometimes I wonder how you ever made it onto the force” sneered Russo. “If you hope to be Lieutenant someday, you better prove you have what it takes. Pervert, my ass!”

Humiliated, Jeffries was beginning to think he wasn’t cut out for this line of work – always tripping over himself to impress the captain.

“ Jeffries! Make yourself useful. Put that bottle in an evidence bag. And for Christ’s sake, put on a pair of gloves first!” Russo shouted.

Jeffries felt like an idiot but did as he was told.

Captain Russo ordered everyone back to the station. “Not you, Jeffries. You’re done for tonight. Go home. Report back tomorrow.”

Jeffries nodded curtly but smiled to himself as he fingered the Club Kashmir passkey in his pocket which he pilfered off the dead guy. At least some hot chickie will show him a little appreciation tonight.

NAR©2024
250 Words

This is Led Zeppelin with “Kashmir”

All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and is not for use by anyone without permission. NAR©2017-present.

Story

Pass The Baton, March 2024

How the story started by Marla

“No.”

“But, I want you,” he whined. 

“That means nothing to me. I am not a USO Girl and you’re not the military,” she said sternly. I’ve given you my response.”

“It’s not fair. I want this! No, I need this, and I want you to do it with me!”

“You want free labor to make your dream possible, and I’m not willing to entertain being a part of something I don’t want to do. I actually know you, which is one of the many reasons you don’t want to ask me, Jeremy. I don’t deal with your nonsense very well. Find someone else.”

She left the room quietly. 

He plopped onto the couch, splayed out like a tired octopus. “She’ll never understand,” he bemoaned with a pinch of heavy sigh. 

➰➰➰

Sadje’s part:

Jeremy mourned the rejection from Stella for a day or two and then he was back to trying to recruit another helper for his house remodel project. 

But whoever he asked declined. It seemed that Stella had spread the news of Jeremy’s devious planning around and most people were pre-warned and were avoiding even talking to him. 

Then there was a surprising offer of help from someone he least expected….

➰➰➰

Fandango’s part:

“Hey, Buddy, I hear you need a hand.”

Jeremy was standing on a ladder skim-coating the drywall in a small closet when he froze. The voice sounded familiar but he couldn’t immediately place it. He climbed down off the ladder, turned in the direction the voice had come from, and his jaw dropped when he saw who it was.

“Surprise, surprise,” said the man when he saw Jeremy staring at him.

“Dad?”

“None other,” the man said, an ear-to-ear grin on his face.

Jeremy’s face turned dark red. “You son of a bitch. You abandoned Mom and me a decade ago and neither of us has heard from you since. How the hell did you find me and what do you want from me?”

“That’s an interesting story, son,” the man said.

➰➰➰

Nancy, The Sicilian Storyteller at The Elephant’s Trunk continues:

“I don’t have the time for this, old man …. just like you didn’t have the time for me and mom so show yourself out. I got work to do.”

“Still got that high-and-mighty stubborn streak, I see, Jeremy. Well, maybe you’ll be singing a different tune when you hear what I have to say. In the meantime, toss me a brush; four hands are better than two.”

Despite himself, Jeremy was curious about why his father bailed on him and his mother and what he had to say. He stayed quiet while his father continued.

“It all started when the Bellamy Twins came blowing into town. Those sons of bitches were fired up and looking for trouble. And they came calling on me.”


➰➰➰

I’m going to pass the baton over to Lisa at Tao Talk and hope she’s keep it going.

Miscellaneous

The Song Remains The Same

Once upon a time I was writing music blogs for a great little site called The Rhythm Section (TRS). Some of you followed my posts there; others were unaware of the site’s existence. As of a few days ago, The Rhythm Section was officially shut down.

I had the dream of starting my own music blog and gave it a great deal of thought; unfortunately, too many things got in the way. In the end I decided I had neither the time nor the ambition to maintain two sites and give both the attention they deserve.

I spent a lot of time working on TRS and thought “what a shame to let everything I wrote simply fade away”. And so I’m moving on, away from forces and people who drag me down and doing more of what makes me happy … like making one site out of two.

With that thought in mind, I have transferred every one of my posts from The Rhythm Section and incorporated them into The Elephant’s Trunk; they are all here in chronological order, tucked away between my stories, poems and other music posts. While looking them over, I have discovered some graphics did not survive the transfer; that’s unfortunate but it’s the chance we take when moving a lot of data around. Fortunately, the text and videos are intact.

I invite you, if you are so inclined, to check out TRS posts; they are dated March 2, 2023 and run through December 31, 2023. You’ll find them.

I hope you enjoy the words I have written and the music I have chosen.

See you on the flip side. 😎

NAR©2024

PS – This is a link to my first TRS post: https://theelephantstrunk.org/2023/03/02/at-the-movies/

This is Led Zeppelin, “The Song Remains The Same”

All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and is not for use by anyone without permission. NAR © 2017-present.

Flash

Working Man

Our gracious host Rochelle at Friday Fictioneers
has another intriguing photo for us to reflect on
and create something clever in 100 words or less.
In 100 words, this is what the photo said to me.

PHOTO PROMPT © Fleur Lind

Gary finished heating up his Hungry Man TV dinner …. fried chicken with a side of mash, corn and a big honking brownie for dessert. His stomach grumbled at the aroma of that juicy breast still sizzling hot from the oven.

Man, this is the life!” Gary thought. He plopped down onto his beloved Barca-Lounger and popped open a Mountain Dew, swigging half the bottle in three huge gulps followed by an explosive burp.

Every weekday mopping floors at the local elementary school, decorating his trailer with cool stuff from Lost and Found.

“Fuckin’ A! It’s a freakin’ ‘Monk’ marathon!”

NAR©2023
100 Words

This is Loverboy with “Working For The Weekend”

All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and is not for use by anyone without permission. NAR©2017-present.

Uncategorized

Berry Picking

Denise at GirlieOnTheEdge has once again
challenged us to write a Six Sentence Story
using the prompt word “nail”. This is my story.

When I first saw him I thought I was hallucinating (was this a real person or a fear-induced illusion?) and I knew I had to remain perfectly still and quiet – my very life depended on it.

I had no idea how long I’d been there – certainly long enough for my skin to have turned red, my mouth parched, my lips cracked and I remember being stung and bitten by insects and digging my nails into the palms of my hands to keep from crying out, but I recall now … we were picking flowers and berries in a sun-filled field … we had been following a stream and unknowingly wandered far from home when I caught sight of a bush hidden deep in a shady area; the plant was heavy with ripe blackberries and I couldn’t resist running to the bush, happily filling my bucket with the deep purple fruit.

I was busy plucking berries when I heard screams – not the usual giddy, playful squeals of young girls but awful shrieks of terror and I started to run back only to see my three sisters encircled by a group of Indians, hulking and menacing men, blocking the girl’s attempts to flee; they wore breechcloths across their midsection, moccasins and no shirts, their faces painted and their heads shaved except for a center strip of upright long hair and I knew immediately they were the dreaded Mohawk.

They tugged the girl’s long blonde hair, poked them with sticks and tore at their starched white dresses.

I wanted to shout out but was too afraid and I hid while my sweet little sisters were raped and raped and raped.

At 15, I was the eldest and I was supposed to protect them; how could I be such a coward?

NAR©2024

This is Albinoni’s ‘Adagio In G Minor”

Music Blog

BIRTHDAY THURSDAYS

Welcome to Birthday Thursdays! Each week I will feature someone from the world of music whose birthday falls on that day. There won’t be any chit chat from me, no facts and figures – just some great tunes (and an occasional surprise). Check it out right here every Thursday and enjoy the music.

Happy Birthday to Jimmy Dorsey
Born February 29, 1904 in Shenandoah, Pennsylvania

From 1957, this is “So Rare”

Hits Archive from 1938, this is “John Silver”

Swing Dancing & Lindy Hopping Kids”

NAR 2024

All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and is not for use by anyone without permission. NAR © 2017-present.

Music Blog

Feb Fab Faux Four #29

© Misky

This is it, kids …. the final installment of Feb Fab Faux Four! What a trip this has been for me!

The Beatles have been in my life since WMCA NY disc jockey Jack Spector played “I Want To Hold Your Hand” on December 26, 1963. That’s a very long time ago – just over 60 years – and I imagine some of you weren’t even born yet. I’ve seen the Beatles perform live in concert and I’ve lived through every transformation in the 7 years, 7 months and 24 days they were together. I loved them. I still love them. They are not only in my heart but in my soul.

My goal here on this month-long blog was to have fun and not try to convert anyone into becoming Beatles fans, but after 29 days, I think I may have done exactly that with a few of you.

During this month I discovered that really good Beatles covers are very difficult to find; they are few and far between. Also, judging by the fact that almost every Beatles video presented on this blog was preferred over the cover reinforced what I already knew: the Beatles are hard to beat. They are the best group that ever was or ever will be!

🪲

Now it’s time to get into our final song.

Many Beatles tracks have had interesting afterlives, and this is one of them. It sits towards the end of the last album they made together – 1969’s Abbey Road – but it is less a song than a segment, a tender part of the medley at the end of side two. In one minute and 32 seconds, it evokes nostalgia, innocence and loss in its lyrics and melody, about the impossibility of getting back home (“Once there was a way…”), and the singing of lullabies to a child (“Sleep, pretty darling, do not cry”).

Next comes the seventh and penultimate song in the album’s climactic medley. It features unison vocals in the chorus from all four Beatles, a rarity in their songs. The middle bridge – featuring brass instruments, electric guitar, and vocals – reprises the beginning of “You Never Give Me Your Money”, but with different words. The lyrics have been interpreted as an acknowledgement by the group that nothing they would do as individual artists would equal what they had achieved together, and they would always carry the weight of their Beatle past. The song is said to be about the Beatles’ business difficulties and the atmosphere at Apple at the time.

The final song of the medley is quite clearly the denouement, not only of the album but of the Beatles as a group. All four Beatles have a solo, including a Ringo Starr drum solo. Ringo disliked solos, preferring to cater drum work to whoever sang in a particular performance; in fact, this is the only drum solo he recorded with the Beatles. George, John and Paul perform a rotating sequence of three, two-bar guitar solos. The idea for a guitar instrumental over this section was George’s, and John suggested the three of them each play a section. The Beatles’ recording engineer, Geoff Emerick, later recalled: “John, Paul and George looked like they had gone back in time, like they were kids again, playing together for the sheer enjoyment of it. More than anything, they reminded me of gunslingers, with their guitars strapped on, looks of steely-eyed resolve, determined to outdo one another. Yet there was no animosity, no tension at all – you could tell they were simply having fun.” In 2007, the final track of the medley was ranked at number 7 on Q magazine’s list “The 20 Greatest Guitar Tracks”.

I listened to a lot of cover versions of this medley and it was impossible to find one that I really liked, except for Phil Collins. I came very close to going with Phil’s recording but I just couldn’t hit the share button on the video. For me, his remake is more of a George Martin remake with Phil singing Paul’s part and playing the drums over a Beatles’ recording. Since I couldn’t find the perfect cover, I made the decision to close out this month by playing only one version …. the original. Nothing else will do. If anyone knows of a version they think is better than or comparable to the original, you are most welcome to drop the link into the comments box. I look forward to hearing them. No professional tribute bands, please.

I can’t think of a better way to say “the end” than by featuring the medley from the fabulous Abbey Road. Here are the Beatles with “Golden Slumbers/Carry That Weight/The End”.

That, my friends, is how it’s done!

I hope you enjoyed spending February together listening to Beatles music; it’s been an incredible experience for me. To you who stuck with me and left comments throughout the month, I am in awe of you and so greatly appreciative. Thank you!

As the Beatles sang: “And in the end the love you make is equal to the love you take“.

See you on the flip side. 😎

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