In The Groove, Metal Madness, Seventies

IN THE GROOVE: METAL MADNESS (October 10, 2023)

🤘🏽 ☠️ 🤘🏽

During the late 1960s and early 1970s a new musical genre developed into a phenomenon that is still going strong some 50 years later and shows no sign of slowing down. In case you didn’t get the hint from my new header image, I’m talking about heavy metal!

Today I’m featuring another group from the “unholy trinity”, a band Bill and I got to see for the first time in November, 1970 at the Fillmore East. You may recall I mentioned the Fillmore last week but if you are not familiar with the venue, please Google it; that place was the spot to be, especially for groups just starting out. We spent many a Friday or Saturday night there watching group after group, acts ranging from Jimi Hendrix to Cat Stevens, Vanilla Fudge to The Who. There were usually three to four bands each night doing two sets each and our tickets were good for the whole night. We often say it would be easier for us to make a list of groups we haven’t seen than those we have seen. The Fillmore East was a fabulous place for us …. an up close and personal introduction into the world of music!

Now it’s time to talk a little about our next group; I promise, this won’t take long. Brace yourselves, kids, and summon all your courage. The madness continues with group #2 on the list: Black Sabbath.

Sabbath was formed in Birmingham, England in 1968 by guitarist Toni Iommi, drummer Bill Ward, bassist Geezer Butler and vocalist Ozzy Osborne. Like so many young guys from that time period, they were looking to escape a life of factory work through music. They got their start in such bands as the psychedelic Rare Breed and Mythology. Influenced by the reigning British rock and blues bands of Led Zeppelin, Cream and John Mayall’s Bluesbreakers, our four enterprising guys formed Earth Blues Company (shortened to Earth) in 1968. Then, as Black Sabbath, the group helped define the heavy metal music genre early in its career with the release of albums such as the eponymous Black Sabbath (1970), Paranoid (1971) and Master of Reality (1971).

Black Sabbath has sold over 75 million records worldwide, making the group one of the most commercially successful metal bands. They were ranked by MTV as the “Greatest Metal Band of All Time” and placed 2nd on VH1’s list of “100 Greatest Artists of Hard Rock”. Black Sabbath was inducted into the UK Music Hall of Fame in 2005 and the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame in 2006. In 2019 the band was presented a Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award.

Ok, boys and girls, it’s time for a little less conversation and a lot more action. My Sabbath playlist is primed and ready; are you? Listen to any, listen to all; each one is great!

From the group’s second studio LP, “Paranoid”, this is “Iron Man”:

Are you game for a couple more? As I said before, listen to as many or as few as you like; we’re here to have fun!

Now for a little change of pace. Break out your cigarette lighters for our last one …. the softer side of Sabbath. This is “Changes”. ✌🏼

That’s the way it is with heavy metal music and groups like Black Sabbath; you can’t stop at just one!

I hope you enjoyed this edition of Metal Madness. Please join me next week for the third member of the “unholy trinity”. Are you having fun yet, gang? The party’s really heating up now! 🤘🏽 🔥

See you on the flip side.

I’m The Sicilian Storyteller

NAR © 2023

Poem

PIONEER POEM: AUTUMNAL NIGHTS

Owl watches on high
Cowl hooded toadstools

Lark sounds his shrill chirp
Dark thoughts are dispelled

Magic home aglow
Tragic tales be gone

Cobbled pathway smooth
Hobbled gnomes seek rest

Stone bridge subtle curves
Lone frog soundly croaks

Lamp light leads the way
Damp mist fills the air

Safe warm rooms inside
Waif and stray embrace

Fog caresses trees
Log blazes on hearth

Fear naught in these woods
Hear the babbling brook

Soft surroundings drift
Oft autumnal nights

Cowl hooded toadstools
Owl watches on high

NAR © 2023

Music Blog

BLUE EYED PHILLY SOUL

Okay, we’re gonna turn the heat up just a bit here and really get in the groove with a little Philadelphia (Blue Eyed) Soul, as prompted this morning by Jim at Song Lyric Sunday.

When this song first came out in September of 1972, I was a newlywed of exactly three months with nothing but loving on my mind. I thought this was possibly the sexiest, most titillating and steamy song I’d ever heard.

It’s the story of an affair between a married man and his equally married lover. In the song, the two meet in secret “every day at the same café” at 6:30 where they hold hands and talk. The two are in a quandary: “We’ve got a thing going on. We both know that it’s wrong but it’s much too strong to let it go now.”

I’m presenting a cover version of this song by my favorite duo of all time – Hall and Oates, the most successful pair in music history (yes, even more successful than Simon & Garfunkel).

Why a cover and not the original when the original is an excellent recording? Two words: Daryl Hall. Fifty-plus years after seeing him on MTV, I still “have a thing going on” for Daryl Hall so please allow me this one indulgence.

Here now are Hall and Oates doing a live performance of “Me and Mrs. Jones”.

“Me and Mrs. Jones” was a #1 single originally performed by Billy Paul, recorded and released in 1972 on CBS Records’ Philadelphia International imprint. The single, included on the album 360 Degrees of Billy Paul, was written by Cary ‘Hippy’ Gilbert, Kenny Gamble, and Leon Huff, and arranged by Bobby Martin.

Lyrics
Me and Mrs. Jones
We got a thing goin’ on
We both know that it’s wrong
But it’s much too strong
To let it go now

We meet every day at the same café
Six-thirty and no one knows she’ll be there
Holding hands, making all kinds of plans
While the jukebox plays our favorite songs

Me and Mrs., Mrs. Jones
Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Jones
We got a thing goin’ on
We both know that it’s wrong
But it’s much too strong
To let it go now

We gotta be extra careful
That we don’t build our hopes up too high
‘Cause she’s got her own obligations
And so, and so do I

Me and Mrs., Mrs. Jones
Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Jones
We got a thing goin’ on
We both know that it’s wrong
But it’s much too strong
To let it go now

Well, it’s time for us to be leaving
It hurts so much, it hurts so much inside
Now she’ll go her way and I’ll go mine
Tomorrow we’ll meet
The same place, the same time

Me and Mrs., Mrs. Jones
Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Jones
We got a thing goin’ on (thing)
We gotta be extra careful (goin’ on)
We can’t afford to build our hopes up too high
I wanna meet (thing) and talk with you
At the same place (goin’ on), the same café, the same time
And we gonna hold hands like we used to
We gonna talk it over, talk it over
(Thing) we know, they know (goin’ on), and you know
And I know that it was wrong
But our thing is strong, we gotta let ’em know now
That we got a thing going on, a thing going on

Source: LyricFind
Songwriters: Cary Grant Gilbert / Kenneth Gamble / Leon Huff
Me and Mrs Jones lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc

And now for the original by Billy Paul:

This will always be one of the smoothest, coolest and sexiest songs ever recorded.

Thanks, Jim, for a fun Philadelphia Soul prompt!

Flash

MIGHTY MOUSE

Every Saturday, as soon as A Stitch In Time opened its doors, my mother was first in line …. and she’d drag me along.

Mother would spend hours going through the new fabric; the store, with its profusion of colors, designs and matching thread, was her fantasy land.

Then Kelly’s Knitting Korner opened next door and mother would lose all sense of time surrounded by cotton candy skeins of wool.

I hated being there. Bored, I’d spin the display racks, play pirate with the knitting needles and wish I was home watching Mighty Mouse.

I never did learn how to knit.

NAR © 2023
100 Words

https://weeklyprompts.com/2023/10/04/weekly-prompts-wednesday-challenge-time/

https://youtu.be/X78i13q-atk?si=N8Mcl_w7piwvkmMd
Short Story

KETCHUM, IDAHO

© Ayr/Gray

“Papa, you said we were going fly fishing today. I’ve been waiting hours! What’s taking you so long?”

Lorian stood at the entrance to her grandfather’s study, an adorable 8 year old tomboy in hip waders, boots, a plaid shirt and golden-brown hair in pigtails, tied with a bow the exact shade of red as in her shirt. Arms folded significantly across her chest, she stared at her grandfather’s typewriter as if wiling it to spontaneously combust.

Ernest turned to face his granddaughter. He spoke to her as though she was one of his cigar-smoking buddies, not like a child, and she loved him for that.

“I’ve got to keep one step ahead of that damn Faulkner. Does he really think big emotions come from big words? He says I don’t know the $10 words. I know them, alright. But there are older and simpler and better words and those are the ones I use.”

He paused but Lorian knew not to answer. She also knew not to tell Papa that her mother was reading Faulkner’s newest book.

Besides, he’s an alcoholic. Good thing he’s Republican!”

“Papa, can we go fishing now? The fish ain’t gonna wait all day!” and Ernest laughed at that remark. Then he spotted his gun leaning against the wall.

Forget fly fishing, Lorian! We’re going duck hunting!”

“But, Papa. Mommy says I’m too young to shoot a gun.”

“Well, she’ll only know if you tell. Grab my hat, kiddo. Duck’s ain’t gonna wait all day!”

NAR © 2023
250 Words

Story

MOAI MAN

© Nancy Richy

He was covered with dirt, leaves, broken branches and assorted detritus of a dozen or more years’ worth of storms and the forces of nature … dismissed, ignored, abandoned and forgotten … never given a scant thought until I came upon him, and even in his forlorn and dejected state, cast off and tossed aside, he was still majestic and I knew I had to give him breath, new life, a home, a place of honor.

After pulling him from the webs of thorny bushes and strangling ivy, I wrapped him in a blanket, secured him inside my car and drove home where I positioned him on a table in my potting shed and gave him a thorough wipe-down; he was in remarkably good condition for having spent all that time in the elements … after all, he is not made of stone or plaster or concrete but of wood and still there was no rot, no boring holes from worms or bugs, no tiny gnawing marks from rodents as if he had commanded them all to stand back, to keep their distance.

A gentle sanding was all that was needed to remove any loose and chipping paint; there was hardly any, a sign that this proud fellow refused to allow years of snow, rain, wind and unrelenting sun to wear him down.

I primed my pump sprayer and, with a slight nod of deference to this royal figure, I began applying a fresh coat of paint as black as pitch … new garments meant for a prince; in constant, sweeping motions I covered him from head to toe until he was gleaming in a slick veneer of ebony, a raven cloak.

When the paint was dry, I raised him up in my arms and carried him out to a spot specifically chosen for him, a place where he will be seen by all, where he will proudly reign.

He is my Moai Man, carved by the Rapa Nui; his name is Jude and his bearing is regal. 🗿

NAR © 2023

Short Story

THE WHISPERING COTTAGE

“It’s a nice house, don’t you think, Virginia? The property is a decent size. And the fresh air! Just what the doctor ordered.” 

Finding the perfect house for his ailing wife was first and foremost on Edgar’s mind.  

Encouragingly, he continued: “It’s quite affordable at $5 a month! Downstairs there’s one bedroom, the parlor and a nice kitchen which your mother will put to good use. And upstairs is another bedroom for us with my very own writing niche.”  

From their carriage Virginia smiled at her husband, covering her mouth with a  handkerchief as the deep cough began again. Edgar hurried to her side and she stared lovingly into his eyes. “Yes, my dear. I think we will be very happy here.”  

Then it’s settled! I’ll finalize the rental while you rest here.” Before returning to the cottage Edgar covered Virginia with a blanket to protect her from the cool April breeze. 

Sitting in the carriage with her mother, Virginia gazed at the cottage. “A lovely little home for the three of us, Mother.” Closing her eyes, Virginia pictured their caged songbirds on the porch, a rocking chair nearby where she could rest in the sun and work on her needlepoint.

Virginia, I’ve been waiting for you

Opening her eyes, Virginia asked her mother to repeat what she just said, but Maria assured her she had said nothing. Again Virginia closed her eyes and again she heard the gentle voice in her ear.

 “Virginia, welcome home”

An unusual peace came over Virginia as she realized it was the cottage whispering to her. “My lovely forever home”, she thought. 

They moved in on a beautiful day in May of 1846 and they were happy there. In the evenings after eating a modest meal prepared by Maria, Edgar worked on his poem “Eulalie” while the family cat sprawled across his shoulders and Virginia dozed by the fireplace.

How Virginia glowed with happiness that gloriously sunny day as Edgar proudly displayed the etched wooden signpost which read “POE COTTAGE”.

But even with constant care, sunshine and fresh air, Virginia’s consumption became worse, her waif-like body wracked with fits of coughing. 

In January Virginia’s health began to fail rapidly. Edgar stayed by her side day and night, reading to her, until at last on January 30, Virginia heard the whispering cottage beckoning her. 

She died peacefully that night in Edgar’s warm embrace as he softly recited –

“This maiden she lived with no other thought
than to love and be loved by me.”

NAR © 2023

Author’s Note: The Poe Cottage is the former home of American writer Edgar Allan Poe. It is located on Kingsbridge Road and the Grand Concourse in the Fordham neighborhood of The Bronx, New York, a short distance from its original location and about 20 minutes from the house where I grew up. I was privileged to visit Poe’s house many times. The cottage is now located in the northern part of Poe Park and is part of the Historic House Trust, listed on the National Register Of Historic Places, administered by The Bronx County Historical Society since 1975. It is believed to have been built in 1797.

It’s all new
Birthday Thursdays
at The Rhythm Section.
No talk, no fuss, no muss.
Just wall-to-wall music!
Stop by and check it out!
🎂
https://rhythmsection.blog/

Birthday Thursdays, Happy Birthday

BIRTHDAY THURSDAYS

Welcome to Birthday Thursdays here in The Rhythm Section. 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 Brian Johnson
Born October 5, 1947 in Dunston, County Durham, UK

Flash

JUDAS BLUE EYES

I cherished you

Once beloved
friend
confidant
brother

How you
eviscerated
me

Your eyes
radiate
hate

Your mouth
spews

Lies
Aspersions
Deceptions
Distortions
Fabrications
Dishonesty
Duplicity
Hypocrisy
Inaccuracy
Mendacity
Perfidy

You are
dead
to me

NAR © 2023
35 words

Short Story

BALLS TO THE WALL

While reading the real estate section, my wife Jen called out to me. “Hey, Eric, check this out. You know that community we love? One of the houses is available, has everything we want plus a big yard and a pool. And get this – they’re asking only $275,000! That’s well within our budget!”  

“Seriously?  Those houses usually go for twice as much! Wonder why it’s so low.”  

“The agent’s number is right here” replied Jen. “Let’s call.”  

After a brief phone conversation, we agreed to meet at the house at noon. When we arrived, the real estate agent explained to us that the previous owners had moved back to England for work purposes and were anxious for a quick sale – even at a loss.

The community was lovely and families were outside enjoying the great weather. The house we had our eye on was even more beautiful than we imagined – not a thing wrong. We asked the agent to make arrangements for an inspector to check everything out and a few days later he reported the house to be in excellent condition. Any doubts were removed from our minds.  

“Well, babe”, I said, giving  Jen a hug, “looks like we just found our dream house!”  

Two weeks later we moved in and everyone was extremely welcoming. In fact, the guy next door came over the first night we were in the house to invite us to a barbecue that weekend. We knew we were going to love this place.

The barbecue was fun and gave us a chance to meet all our new neighbors. Later that night at home we talked about how nice everyone was; in particular, Jen was surprised by how helpful the men were – “Except for that one awkward scene when Barb got annoyed with Gil because his potato salad had too much mayo!” she laughed.

As time went by, we couldn’t help noticing that all the men were house-husbands while all the women went to work. How odd! One night Gil called to invite me to the weekly Friday night poker game at his house and Jen to a ladies book club night at Susan’s. 

The card game was going well and I was on a winning streak when out of the blue Gil asked “So, Eric, when are you gonna get your balls snipped?”

 Totally thrown off base, I gagged on my drink. “Excuse me??” I sputtered.

“You know. Snipped! We’re all snipped” Gil answered, making little scissor cutting gestures with his fingers. “Dr. Susan does it, smooth and easy. Our wives convinced us life would be much calmer that way and it is. Here’s her number.”  

Mumbling hasty excuses, I hurriedly left the game and dashed home, colliding with Jen running home from the other direction. 

“Do you know what they do here?!?” she asked, horrified. 

I nodded frantically. “And the only things getting cut are our losses! C’mon! We’re outta here!” 

NAR © 2023

I hope you’ll join me today
as I take you on a
new musical journey
In The Groove.
It’s gonna rock your world!
https://rhythmsection.blog/

In The Groove, Metal Madness, Seventies, Sixties

IN THE GROOVE: METAL MADNESS (October 3, 2023)

🤘🏼 ☠️ 🤘🏼

During the late 1960s and early 1970s, a new musical genre was developed. It kicked in the door of the music world and turned into a phenomenon that is still going strong some 55 years later. And there are no obvious signs of it slowing down any time soon. In case you didn’t get the hint from my subtle new header image, I’m talking about heavy metal! 🤘🏼

We all know what it is: a genre of rock music that developed largely in the United Kingdom and United States with roots in blues rock, acid rock and psychedelic rock. Metal bands created a thick, monumental sound characterized by distorted guitars, extended guitar solos, emphatic beats and loudness.

WHAT?? Oh, I think I know what you’re trying to say, Mr. Wikipedia –

In other words, heavy metal crashes through the safety of your walls, grabs you by the throat, flips you around like a rag doll, tosses you upside down onto the Helter Skelter for a few spins at Mach 3.3, drags you off by your hair, straddles you and screams in your face “HEAR ME!, then slams you down Centerstage Row A without any sissy earplugs where you stand dripping in blood, sweat and tears, wonky legs barely supporting you, arms extended, fingers shaped like 🤘🏼 as your heart races frantically inside your chest like John Bonham on speed, your head starting to erupt into a trillion bits and, like Ozzy, you howl at the moon All aboard! This is bloody freakin’ awesome!!”

Get the picture? Good. Now let’s get this show on the road!

In 1968 three of the genre’s most famous pioneers were founded. Often referred to as the “unholy trinity”, their hope was to attract wide audiences with their musical message; they were often misunderstood and ridiculed by critics. That didn’t stop them.

That same year, March of 1968, Bill and I met on a blind date. The following week for our second date, we went to the concert mecca of the Lower East Side of Manhattan – the Fillmore East. It was our first time there and the start of a long run of concerts. Ten months later we saw a relatively unknown group at the Fillmore who would go on to become one of the greatest bands of all time. That band is the group I’m featuring today in Metal Madness.

Between 1968 and 1977 – the period known as B.K. (Before Kids) – Bill and I saw the “unholy trinity” as well as many other groups, multiple times. Back then, even the good seats were cheap and we were always in one of the first three rows. I laughingly remember the night Robert Plant tossed back his magnificent mane of blonde curls and rained droplets of sweat on us. It was fabulous!

Allow me now to delve a little deeper into our first group in Metal Madness: Led Zeppelin.

Formed in London in 1968, Led Zeppelin developed their style by drawing from a variety of influences, including blues and folk music. The band was comprised of vocalist Robert Plant, guitarist Jimmy Page, bassist and keyboardist John Paul Jones and drummer John Bonham. With a heavy guitar-driven sound, they are cited as one of the forerunners of hard rock and heavy metal music. Zeppelin has been credited as significantly impacting the nature of the music industry, particularly in the development of album-oriented rock and stadium rock.

Led Zeppelin is one of the best-selling musical groups of all time, with total sales estimated at over 300 million records sold worldwide. The group achieved eight consecutive UK #1 albums and six #1 Albums on the US Billboard 200, with five albums certified diamond in the United States. Rolling Stone magazine once described Zeppelin as “the heaviest band of all time”, “the biggest band of the 70s”, and “unquestionably one of the most enduring bands in rock history”. Led Zeppelin was inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame in 1995; the museum’s biography of the band states that they were “as influential during the 1970s as the Beatles were during the 1960s”. That’s quite a statement.

For me listening to these great songs is like eating potato chips; I can’t eat just one! I have several video selections for you today. Listen to any, listen to all; the choice is yours and each one is great!

Ok, no more talking; it’s time for some music. And if you look hard enough, you just might spot me in the audience!

This is Led Zeppelin!


https://youtu.be/fIQMktyP90s?si=N-GIIS_5G-NwcLIF

I’d like to close with what I consider to be an indelible moment in time – Ann and Nancy Wilson of Heart performing at the Kennedy Center in a concert honoring Led Zeppelin. This is no hype; you’ll know what I mean when you see the reaction from the honorees watching from the best seats in the house. The song is one you all know; it has been called “the single-most important and celebrated song Led Zeppelin ever recorded”.

This is “Stairway To Heaven”.

That’s the way it is with heavy metal and groups like Led Zeppelin; you can’t stop at just one!

I hope you enjoyed your first ride on the Metal Madness Express. Thanks for being here! I’d love to know your thoughts so kindly leave a comment.

Please join me right here next week for an introduction to the second group in the “unholy trinity”. Can you guess who it is? You don’t want to miss it; I’m just warming up! 🔥 🤘🏼

See you on the flip side.

I’m The Sicilian Storyteller

NAR © 2023

Uncategorized

Nancy’s Fuhgeddaboudit Lasagna

Since publishing my story Honeysuckle and Provolone, I have received a few requests for my lasagna recipe. I’m happy to share a great Italian dish which I’m sure will become a favorite of yours. I’ve been making lasagna for more than 50 years and I have a few tricks that will prevent major headaches for anyone who is making lasagna for the first time.

The most difficult part about preparing lasagna is handling the boiled pasta sheets; they can be delicate and I always suggest cooking them al dente as they will continue to cook while in the oven. I know some people who prefer to skip the boiling step altogether since the sheets will cook and soften up in the tomato sauce while baking.

Another option is to place the lasagna sheets in a pan, cover with boiling water and let them sit for 30 minutes before rinsing in cold water. The people at Barilla make traditional lasagna sheets as well as ones that are oven-ready and do not require boiling; I have never tried making lasagna without first boiling the pasta sheets so I’m not an authority on the oven-ready method. However, I do know enough about cooking to know that the pasta will soften up sufficiently while baking as long as you use enough tomato sauce to cover it entirely.

I prefer to use Barilla pasta; I believe it is a superior product – lighter and tastier than other brands. That’s just my preference; please use whichever brand you like.

This is the tradition Barilla lasagna I use.
One box (1 lb) is sufficient for one 9×13″ lasagna.
This is what the “no bake” or “oven-ready” lasagna sheets look like.
They are much smaller, the package is smaller
and you will need to buy several boxes
to make one 9×13″ lasagna.

If you’re making a traditional lasagna and boiling the pasta first, it’s very important to use a BIG pot. The lasagna sheets are long and wide and need plenty of room to move around in the water; I prefer to cook six sheets at a time for less crowding in the pot. Also, it’s extremely helpful to add a splash of oil to the pasta water; this will keep the lasagna sheets from sticking together. Once lasagna sheets get stuck together, it’s extremely difficult to separate them without tearing. A little oil in the cooking water will prevent a big sticky problem. Boil the lasagna sheets for the amount of time indicated in the cooking directions on the box. And don’t forget to salt the cooking water.

Boiled lasagna sheets should be rinsed and separated in a colander under cold water immediately after cooking and kept in a pot or plastic tub of cold water while the meat is cooking and the cheese filling is being prepared. Just as you would use an ice bath to stop vegetables from overcooking and to retain their color, use a cold water bath for the cooked lasagna sheets.

Here’s another trick a lot of cooks ignore. When assembling lasagna in a baking pan, the direction of the lasagna sheets should be alternated every other layer. The first layer of pasta should be placed lengthwise in the baking pan with the edges slightly overlapping; the next layer should be placed widthwise in the pan. Since the width of a standard lasagna pan is shorter than the length, the lasagna sheets will need to be trimmed to fit the pan. This is easy to do with standard kitchen scissors. Alternating the layers will make for a firmer lasagna that will not fall apart when cut into; this is the best assembly method to use regardless of the size of the pan and you will always have neatly cut squares of lasagna.

Here is an image of layering lasagna sheets; there’s no sauce or other ingredients in this image so you can clearly see what I mean by alternating the layers:

First layer is lengthwise; 2nd layer is widthwise
and trimmed to fit the size of the pan. Easy!

This may seem like a lot of information but don’t let it scare you; it’s basic reference info only. If you refer to it as you cook, you shouldn’t have any problems.

Now, let’s take a look at the ingredients:

1 lb sweet Italian sausage
1 lb ground chuck 80/20
½ cup diced onion
1 teaspoon minced garlic
28oz can crushed tomatoes (+see below)
12oz can tomato paste (+see below)
15oz can tomato sauce (+see below)
¼ cup water
2 tablespoons granulated sugar
½ cup freshly chopped basil
1 teaspoon Italian seasoning (*see below)
1 teaspoon salt
¼ teaspoon black pepper
4 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley
12 lasagna pasta sheets
15oz whole milk ricotta cheese
1 lb whole milk mozzarella, shredded (reserve a handful to sprinkle on top layer of lasagna)
½ cup grated Romano cheese (reserve a handful to sprinkle on top layer of lasagna)
½ cup grated parmigiano cheese (reserve a handful to sprinkle on top layer of lasagna)
1 large egg
dash nutmeg

+ I am not a fan of tomato sauce in a jar. My mother taught me to make her tomato sauce and that is the only one I use. On a day when I have nothing to do, I’ll whip up a few batches, portion it out into Tupperware and freeze it. It’s nice to know it’s there whenever I need it; however, canned tomatoes for this recipe are fine.

* Using a store-bought mixed jar of Italian seasoning is perfectly fine but you might want to try making your own. Combine 2 tablespoons each of dried basil, cilantro, marjoram, oregano, parsley, red pepper flakes, rosemary and thyme. Store in a tightly sealed spice jar. Using store-bought Italian seasoning for this recipe is fine.

COOKING INSTRUCTIONS

This recipe makes a large pan of lasagna.
I use a deep dish Pyrex lasagna pan or a deep 9×13” baking pan.

  1. In a large saucepan, cook the sausage, ground beef, onion and garlic until cooked through. Drain the fat..
  2. To the cooked meat add the tomatoes, paste, sauce, water, sugar, basil, Italian seasoning, salt, pepper and parsley. Stir well.
  3. Simmer, covered, over low heat for 1 ½ hours, stirring occasionally.
  4. While meat is cooking, boil the lasagna sheets; drain and keep cool in cold water.
  5. In a medium bowl mix together all the cheeses, egg and nutmeg

LET’S PUT OUR LASAGNA TOGETHER!
(I suggest reading through before starting)

  1. Heat oven to 350ºF.
  2. Lightly cover the bottom of a 9×13″ lasagna pan with a small amount of meat sauce.
  3. Lay 4 lasagna sheets lengthwise over meat sauce; overlap edges slightly.
  4. Spoon approximately ¼ of cheese mixture over lasagna sheets and spread to cover.
  5. Spread 1/2 cup of meat sauce – or enough to cover the cheese mixture.
  6. Cover meat sauce with 4 lasagna sheets widthwise, cutting to fit pan.
  7. Continue layering cheese mixture, meat sauce and lasagna sheets, alternating the direction of the sheets, until all ingredients are used. Reserve some meat sauce for the top layer. Top lasagna with meat sauce and sprinkle with grated cheese and mozzarella.
  8. Cover pan with with aluminum foil and bake for 25 minutes; remove foil and bake an additional 30 minutes uncovered.
  9. Allow the lasagna to cool for 15 minute before slicing.
  10. Serve with a side salad and warm Italian bread.

That’s all there is to it! You’ve made lasagna! 👩🏼‍🍳

It’s been a pleasure sharing with you the recipe for one of the most popular Italian dishes. There are many different variations of lasagna – meatless, wholegrain, vegetable, béchamel, kosher, etc; don’t be afraid to experiment and make whatever changes you like. Google is a chef’s great friend! If you’re not a fan of sausage, this recipe can be made using all ground beef.

More important that anything – enjoy your cooking experience. Cooking should be a joy – not a chore. To that end, I’ve added a full concert video by Il Volo to accompany you while you cook.

Happy cooking and eating! Buon appetito!

NAR © 2023

Uncategorized

LET THEM EAT CAKE!

This week Jim at Song Lyric Sunday is asking us to write about a song that mentions a food suggested by Christine of Stine Writing and Miniatures. Here is a unique little ditty just about as old as bread itself.

“Bread and Butter” is a 1964 song by the American pop vocal trio Newbeats; it was the group’s first and most popular hit. The song served as the Newbeats’ demo in an effort to obtain a recording contract with Hickory Recording.

The opening two-chord piano riff and the lead falsetto of Larry Henley are the most notable features of the song.

“Bread and Butter” was the inspiration for the advertising jingle of Schmidt Baking Company used in the 1970s and 1980s; it went like this:

“I like bread and butter,
I like toast and jam,
I like Schmidt’s Blue Ribbon Bread,
It’s my favorite brand”.

Catchy, isn’t it?

The song has been featured in numerous movies and TV shows as well as a variety of television commercials. It is part of music compilations found on Billboard Top Rock’n’Roll Hits: 1964 as well as Classic Rock (Time-Life Music).

Let’s have a listen to this quirky hit from 1964:

Lyrics

… Ah, he likes bread and butter
Ah, he likes toast and jam
Ah, that’s what his baby feeds him
Ah, he’s her loving man

… Well, I like bread and butter
I like toast and jam
That’s what baby feeds me
I’m her loving man

… Ah, he likes bread and butter
Ah, he likes toast and jam
That’s what his baby feeds him
Ah, he’s her loving man

… Well, she don’t cook mashed potatoes
She don’t cook T-bone steak
She don’t feed me peanut butter
She knows that I can’t take

… Ah, he likes bread and butter
Ah, he likes toast and jam
Ah, that’s what his baby feeds him
Ah, he’s her loving man

… Well, I got home early one Monday
Much to my surprise
She was eating chicken and dumplings
With some other guy

… No more bread and butter
Ah, no more toast and jam
He found his baby eating
Ah, with some other man

… No, no, no
No more bread and butter
Ah, no more toast and jam
I found my baby eating
Ah, with some other man

… No, no, no, no
No more bread and butter
No, no, no, no
Ah, no more toast and jam

… No, no, no, no
Ah, no more bread and butter
No, no, no, no
Ah, no more toast and jam
No, no, no, no
Ah, no more bread and butter

Source: LyricFind

Songwriters: Jay Turnbow / Larry Parks

Bread and Butter lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

“Bread and Butter”
Single by the Newbeats 
from the album Bread and Butter
B-side“Tough Little Buggy”
ReleasedJuly 1964 (US)
August 28, 1964 (UK)
Recorded1964
GenrePop
Length1:58
LabelHickory 1269
Songwriter(s)Larry ParksJay Turnbow
The Newbeats singles chronology
Bread and Butter
(1964)”Everything’s Alright”
(1964)


From the movie 9 1/2 Weeks:

Buffet of Options

As Jim pointed out to me, the big surprise in this song is when the guy comes home early and finds his lover eating chicken and dumplings with some other guy! What a great ending!

Well, I gotta run; I think I smell toast burning! 🍞 🧈 🥫

NAR © 2023

Uncategorized

Well …..

We were so busy bailing water from the basement, I forgot to post a story for today!

Did you miss me?

Well, there’s good news! You can still hop on over to The Rhythm Section for a little game of Name That Tune.

Hey, they’re my websites so I’m gonna self-promote the hell out of them! 🤣

Thanks to so many of you for your kind words and best wishes during our water-logged “setback.”

I bow before Mother Nature.

PS: What a difference a day makes, 24 little hours! Today is warm, sun-shiny t shirt weather and not a raincloud in sight! 🌟 😎

NAR © 2023

Name That Tune.
The Rhythm Section.
Come on over!
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Name That Tune, Sixties

NAME THAT TUNE (October 1, 2023)

Welcome back to Name That Tune!

Today we are featuring a famous American group and what I believe is their best known song. I had forgotten this group was together only three years, from 1965 to 1968 and when I read that, it was shocking to me. They’re one of those groups you just assume were together much longer than they were.

Nuff said! It’s time for some fun! Let’s play Name That Tune. Good luck!

  1. Today’s song was written by the two founding members of our featured group during a particularly cold winter in New York. The lyrics tell us about the couple’s desire to leave the harsh winter weather and return to their warm, sunny hometown.
  2. Our featured group, a very popular West Coast folk/rock quartet, was founded in 1965 and was comprised of two men and two women. They were together only three years and after the break up, each member pursued solo careers.
  3. Today’s song was originally written for and recorded by the American singer Barry McGuire (“Eve of Destruction”); however, the version by our featured group is by far the best known and immediately recognized.
  4. The two founding members of our group were a married couple when the group formed. After their divorce, the husband was accused of some very disturbing and sordid drug-related activity which you can read about on Wiki.
  5. Today’s song became a signpost of the ‘California sound‘, heralding the arrival of the budding counterculture era.

Did my clues help you figure out the answers to today’s mystery? Well, we’ll find out in few seconds. Just scroll on down for the big reveal.

If you answered “California Dreaming” by The Mamas and The Papas, you rock!

Let’s listen to that very cool song right now:

Michelle Phillips wrote the lyrics, “Well, I got down on my knees, and I pretend to pray,” but Cass Elliot had sung “began to pray” on the original recording and had continued doing so on tour until corrected by Phillips.

They really had a terrific sound, didn’t they? Of all their many hits, do you have a favorite Mamas and Papas song? Let’s hear from you; drop a line in the comments section or add your favorite video. We love videos!

My time is up for today. Be sure to check in with The Rhythm Section all week for some really great music. Thanks for hanging with me today playing Name That Tune!

See you on the flip side.

I’m The Sicilian Storyteller

NAR © 2023

Poem

PIONEER POEM: NIGH ON OCTOBER

Rooms with locked windows
Tombs for the undead

Rats flee scurrying
Cats hide in waiting

Bell tolls in the wind
Hell waits on the doomed

Screaming in the night
Teeming black waters

Full moon’s graveyard shine
Pull demons from earth

Tombs for the undead
Rooms with locked windows

NAR © 2023

Short Story

DAYS OF RAIN

© Ayr/Gray

The early morning air was thick with the smell of rain, the stillness almost suffocating. I was determined to finish my walk and get back home before the storm hit. Still on the historic Leatherstocking Trail which snakes its way through the woods near the old train station, I had about a mile to go.

There was an alien look about the sky, otherworldly and menacing. Tenebrous clouds, clumsy and swollen like an over-full bladder, partially obscured a series of long, jagged slashes of coppery-red. I was reminded of the familiar adage:

“Red sky at night, sailor’s delight.
Red sky at morning, sailor’s warning.”

Nothing about this day bode well.

I stopped to tie back my hair and pull the hood of my jacket over my head, securing it snugly with the drawstring. A few rumbles of thunder warned me not to dawdle; there would be no stopping this rain.

The threat of the approaching nor’easter brought with it the unwelcome promise of flooding – a frequent visitor in these low-lying areas of the Hudson Valley.

I quickened my pace, the only sound the muffled slap of my sneakers hitting the leaf-strewn path.

An impressive bolt of lightning split the sky, followed by a barrage of thunder. By now my indignant left knee was barking ferociously and I cursed for having walked so far.

My house finally came into view. The rain started as I climbed the steps to my front door; a forlorn train whistle howled in the distance.

NAR © 2023
250 words

NB – As I am writing this, New York, the place I call home, is in a State of Emergency due to unrelenting rainstorms and severe flooding. This rain is the worst we’ve had in years. Four continuous days of rain last week and now this. The saturated ground cannot hold any more water and it has nowhere to go but up. Exhausted from bailing out our basement, we finally gave up, defeated. No matter what we do, the water will always win.

Flash

DON’T BLINK

© Jennifer Pendergast

“Grammy, come see our new homework room. Daddy painted the walls for us. Come look!”

My grandchildren tug at my arms, leading me into their newly decorated room. There were three workstations for them to do their schoolwork, shelves lined with books and a big old wooden chest filled with treasures.

The underwater scenes my son painted were wondrous; honestly, the theme didn’t matter.

It was the memories that came flooding back to me from thirty years ago when he painted the walls of his own room with cartoon characters he created.

Crying? No, sillies! Just something in my eye.”

NAR © 2023
100 words

Short Story

HOUSECALLS

Saunders Drive. On the right corner stood the library, looking exactly as it did the last time I saw it. Diagonally across the street was the church we attended every Sunday, the preacher bellowing about morals and principles. Directly across from the church was a quaint-looking inn with a sign over the doorway – “Welcome Home!” And on the fourth corner was the big Colonial house where the Casey Family lived.

Jeff Casey was my first boyfriend; feels like a hundred years ago. Now there was a prominent shingle on the front lawn which read JEFFREY CASEY, M.D. A doctor! I never should have broken up with him! 

My childhood house was a stone’s throw from the Casey’s. Not quite ready to see the old place just yet, I kept walking. About halfway down Main Street, I came across a boho-chic coffee shop/poet’s corner called “Beggars, Cynics and Euripides”. A pretty young woman wearing a rainbow tie dyed hippie skirt was preparing lunch tables outside. The freshly-painted red chairs were staggering in their brilliance. She smiled pleasantly at me and asked if I’d like a table. 

“Why not?” I answered as she handed me a menu. I was engrossed in reading the descriptions of the lunch fare when I became aware of someone standing nearby watching me. Glancing over my shoulder, I was pleasantly surprised to see the still-handsome face of Jeff Casey grinning at me. 

“Rebecca Gardner! My God! What’s it been – 20 years? What brings you back to town?” 

“Jeff! You look great!” and I instinctively hugged him. “Please join me.

The waitress took our orders for iced coffee and as we waited, that warm, relaxed feeling between us resurfaced. 

Twenty years exactly. My folks sold the house after I graduated college. Honestly, I’m not sure why I’m here. Memories, you know?” 

We caught up on life – marriages, divorces, etc. – and I mentioned going to see my old house but for whatever reason I was nervous. 

Jeff tossed a twenty on the table and said “Come on. Let’s go together.” And before I could think of an excuse, he took my hand and we were on our way. 

The Matthews Family lives here now. Nice people.” Jeff bounded up the front steps and rang the doorbell. No answer. 

The old oak tree was standing proud and tall in the front yard. My fingers lightly traced the weathered heart shape with our initials carved inside and we shared a smile and unspoken memories.

We strolled up Saunders Drive to Jeff’s place, neither of us in a rush for this bubble of serendipity to burst. Jess sighed. “Well, I’ve got patients to see.” 

“And I’ve got a train to catch” I replied. “Jeff, it’s been too long. Let’s keep in touch.” 

“I’d like that, Becca. By the way, I make housecalls.” He smiled over his shoulder as he disappeared inside. 

NAR © 2023

It’s all new
Birthday Thursdays
at The Rhythm Section.
No talk, no fuss, no muss.
Just wall-to-wall music!
Stop by and check it out!
🎂
https://rhythmsection.blog/

Birthday Thursdays, Happy Birthday

BIRTHDAY THURSDAYS

Welcome to Birthday Thursdays here in The Rhythm Section. 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 Ben E. King
Born September 28, 1938 in Henderson, North Carolina

Short Story

THE CHOSEN

When I was a kid, I attended a private Lutheran school from First Grade all the way through my senior year in high school; being in an unusually close environment such as that with a bunch of other kids was like having a very large extended family and, just like siblings, there were days when we fought like cats and dogs and there were times when we’d do anything for one another. 

Being a relatively small school, there were some features we didn’t have that you would normally find in a larger public school; for example, we had a gymnasium but not an auditorium so phys ed and basketball games were held in the same room as our concerts, plays, pep rallies and graduations. We also did not have a cafeteria where students could buy food for lunch; everyone brought their own lunch, which we ate in the lunchroom or student union, and were able to buy snacks, desserts, candy, ice cream and cartons of milk in the small school store just off the lunchroom. 

The snacks in the little store were nothing special – mostly things like chips, pretzels, Hostess Twinkies and Snowballs, Sugar Daddys, Tootsie Rolls and novelty candy items like Pixie Stix, miniature wax bottles filled with a sticky sweet liquid, button candy and tiny ice cream cones that weren’t ice cream at all but some kind of rubbery sugar substance – but we also had real ice cream and individual cartons of both regular milk and chocolate milk; it’s funny but the feature I remember most about those milk cartons was the round perforation on the top side where a straw could be inserted for mess-free drinking. 

One unforgettable day when I was in fifth grade, a representative from Drakes Cakes came to our school and our class learned it had been selected as the official ‘taste tester’ for a bunch of new products being considered for the school store; once every week for about four months we got to sample items that weren’t as yet available to the public for sale such as Funny Bones, Ring Dings, Devil Dogs, Yodels, Coffee Cakes and Fruit Pies. 

Man oh man … as you can well imagine, that was one of the most amazing times in our young lives and by far the best year we ever had in school; my class was the envy of all the other kids and I still can’t resist those delicious devil’s food cake ‘hot dogs’ filled with whipped cream that we all know as Devil Dogs.

NAR © 2023

Short Story

HONEYSUCKLE AND PROVOLONE

The minute she walked into my deli on Arthur Avenue, I was blown away. She knocked my socks off. Even through the crack in the storage room door I was dazzled by this profusion of red hair the color of a bright autumn day, creamy skin with a splash of freckles and captivating emerald eyes. I’ve got a weakness for gingers and I fell head over heels. 

I’m Bruno Deluca – or Mr. Monotone compared to the stunning Monarch butterfly that just gaily flew into my market. I have the quintessential Italian look – walnut brown hair, coffee brown eyes and a perpetual deep tan. But I have a sparkling smile and dimples “to die for”, as my Aunt Carmella always says. 

This amber goddess stood in front of the meat and cheese display, a bewildered look on her face. Here’s my big chance. I dashed from the back room and positioned myself directly in her line of vision. “Welcome to Deluca’s Salumeria. May I help you with something, miss?” [Smooth, right? Not to mention original!] 

She looked up and I flashed her my trademark smile. And she smiled back, blushing winsomely. My knees grew weak when she spoke, her lilting Irish brogue a sweet surprise. 

“Everything looks so exotic and delicious! I wouldn’t know what to order, even if could pronounce the names!” And when she laughed I swear I saw musical notes wafting through the air. 

“No problem” I replied as I swiftly came around to her side, naming and describing all the meats and cheeses. 

She smelled like honeysuckle. I smelled like provolone. 

She still couldn’t make up her mind so I tried something radical. “How about I give you a few samples – on the house – if you promise to come back and buy something, even if it’s one slice of salami?” 

She hesitated for a second, then laughingly said “You have a deal, Mr…..” 

“Deluca. Bruno Deluca. And you are…..?” 

She extended a delicate porcelain hand. “Rowan McCourt. Pleased to meet you, Bruno.”

Rowan, eh? That’s a lovely name. What does it mean?” 

Tentatively toying with her hair she said “Little Red-haired One. And what does Bruno mean?” 

I shrugged and matter-of-factly stated “Brown” and we both burst out laughing! 

I packed up a nice selection of sliced meat and cheese and some of my best Italian bread. “Here ya go, Rowan, and don’t forget…..” 

“Oh, no Bruno! This is too much! I couldn’t possibly…..!” 

“Go! Enjoy! It’s always good to have leftovers. See you soon!” 

The next day I kept glancing at the door; I couldn’t get Rowan out of my head and I was disappointed when she didn’t return. True to her word, though, she was back the following morning.

“Bruno, everything was delicious!” she declared excitedly. “Now what shall I buy?”

She browsed for a minute. “That looks incredible! What is it?” 

“That’s lasagna – sheets of wide pasta layered with ricotta, mozzarella, grated Parmigiano Reggiano cheese, sauteèd chopped beef and sausage in my homemade tomato sauce. It’s already cooked; just heat and enjoy. Would you like to try it?”

“I would indeed! You make it all sound so delicious, Bruno. My mouth is watering!”

You won’t regret your decision, Rowan. Lasagna is one of our specialties. How much would you like?” 

“Enough for a few portions, please” Rowan replied. Her smile was radiant.

“Ah, leftovers. You remembered!” I said, smiling back. 

“Actually, Bruno, I was hoping you would join me for dinner tonight.”

It took me a second to remember to breath. “I’d love to” I whispered while inside I was shouting “YES! I’d love to!” 

“Wonderful! Here’s my address. See you at 7:00. And Bruno, can you bring a bottle of wine and some of your fabulous bread?” Rowan asked. 

I stared into her eyes and nodded mutely.

Bruno, I’m very happy you’ll be joining me tonight.” Taking her bag, Rowan floated out the door. The slightest trace of honeysuckle tickled my nose.

NAR ©2023

Happy Birthday to my guy, my special Mr. Bill 🧡

Please join me today
In The Groove
as we conclude
Motown Memories.
What could be next?
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In The Groove, Motown Melodies, Sixties

IN THE GROOVE: MOTOWN MELODIES (September 26, 2023)

Motown was about music for all people – white and black, blue and green, cops and the robbers. I was reluctant to have our music alienate anyone.” – Berry Gordy, Motown Founder

🚗 🚙 🚗

Welcome back to In The Groove: Motown Melodies!

It’s the last Tuesday of September – time to conclude our musical journey in the Motor City. I’ve chosen to start today’s segment with a 1963 high octane hit by another incredible girl group that you’re all sure to know.

Is it my imagination or is it getting hot in here?

Heat Wave” was written by the songwriting team of Holland-Dozier-Holland and was first made popular by the group “Martha and the Vandellas”. Released as a single on the Motown subsidiary Gordy label, this song garnered a Grammy Award nomination, the first Motown group to ever do so.

Founded in 1957 by friends Annette Beard, Rosaline Ashford and Gloria Williams, the group eventually included Martha Reeves who moved up in ranks as lead vocalist after Williams’ departure in ’61. During their nine-year run from 1963-1972, “Martha and the Vandellas” charted over 26 hits recorded in the styles of doo-wop, R&B, pop, blues, rock and roll and soul. In 1995 the group was inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame.

“Heat Wave” was one of the first songs to exemplify the style of music later termed as the “Motown Sound”. Here are Martha and the Vandellas performing their 1963 hit, “Heat Wave”.

What a great song by a terrific group – the epitome of that legendary “Motown Sound” that still sounds fresh and new today.

I have a few more dimes left for the jukebox; let’s punch up a couple more hits by “the girls”.

Wow! What a great bunch of songs! I’ve been loving listening to the Motown girl groups; how about you? Please leave a comment and let me know your thoughts about these great Motown hits.

Another month is in the books, kids. Thanks for movin’ and groovin’ with me to the greatest sounds to come out of the Motor City! 🚗

Be sure to join me here next Tuesday as we dive into a brand new category for October. What will it be? All I can say is you don’t wanna miss it. We’re flying to England where we’ll be kicking it up and raising some hell!

See you on the flip side.

I’m The Sicilian Storyteller

NAR © 2023

Flash

WHO, ME?

Sadje has asked us in her Sunday Poser if we have any bad habits we want to give up.

Who, me?

Do not get me started on bad habits. That will only result in a monumental snowball effect which will totally ruin my day and likely bore the pants off everyone else.

Just the fact that I’m sitting here taking the time to write this when I could be cleaning out a closet is statement enough; I don’t need to produce a laundry list of my bad habits.

It’s been raining like gangbusters here since Saturday – the type of weather when all you want to do is watch old movies, read or write on your blog. I thought about keeping up with my daily walks but it was pouring so I said “Nah” and pulled my hoodie up over my head.

Look, here’s the bottom line:

Everyone has bad habits, big or small. If anyone can point a judgmental finger at another person while professing to not having one single bad habit themselves, they’d be lying … or at the very least, bragging. Those are bad habits right there.

No, don’t get me started on bad habits.

We are all flawed.

Perhaps we might want to hone our good habits and not dwell so much on the bad ones. Imagine all the money we’d save on antacids!

I rest my case.

PS: Yesterday we were granted a brief window of no rain. We dragged our sorry asses out of our recliners and went for that walk after all. I felt good about that. The jury is still out on what will happen today. And that is no lie.

NAR © 2023

Music Blog

SIGN OF THE GYPSY QUEEN

Today Jim at Song Lyric Sunday is asking us to think about a musical group with a type of food in its name and write about one of their songs. I have chosen the Canadian hard rock group April Wine and their song Sign of the Gypsy Queen.

“Sign of the Gypsy Queen” was written and originally recorded by Lorence Hud. The song became a hit in Canada when released as a single in 1973. Hud’s version appeared on his eponymous debut album. The song reached the top 5 on the West Coast, #3 on CJRW-FM in Summerside, Prince Edward Island, and peaked at #16 nationally on the RPM 100 chart.

April Wine had more success with its 1981 hard rock version of the song. It was the second single from their album, The Nature of the Beast. The song reached #40 on the Canadian Hot 100, and #57 in the United States on the Billboard Hot 100, and #19 on the Mainstream Rock Tracks.

This version has become popular on album-oriented rock radio stations, getting frequent airplay in the United States and Canada; a music video aired on MTV’s first day of broadcast. It remains one of the group’s signature songs and a live concert staple.

“Sign of the Gypsy Queen” gained a brief resurgence in popularity when it was featured in an episode of the American television series Breaking Bad in 2013. The episode, “Granite State”, received critical acclaim, and is one of the most popular episodes in the series history.

Sign of the Gypsy Queen – by April Wine

Lyrics

Lightning smokes on the hillrise
Brought the man with the warning light
Shouting loud you had better fly
While the darkness can help you hide
Trouble’s comin’ without control
No one’s stayin’ that’s got a hope
Hurricane at the very least
In the words of the gypsy queen

Sign of the gypsy queen
Pack your things and leave
Word of a woman who knows
Take all your gold and you go

Get my saddle and tie it on
Western wind who is fast and strong
Jump on back, he’s good and long
We’ll resist till we reach the dawn
Running seems like the best offense
Staying just don’t make any sense
No one could ever stop it now
Show the cards of the gypsy town

Sign of the gypsy queen
Pack your things and leave
Word of a woman who knows
Take all your gold and you go

Shadows movin’ without a sound
From the hold of the sleepless town
Evil seems to be everywhere
Heed the spirit that brought despair
Trouble’s comin’ without control
No one’s stayin’ that’s got a hope
Hurricane at the very least
In the words of the gypsy queen

Sign of the gypsy queen
Pack your things and leave
Word of a woman who knows
Take all your gold and you go
Sign of the gypsy queen
Pack your things and leave
Word of a woman who knows
Take all your gold and you go
Sign of the gypsy queen
Pack your things and leave
Word of a woman who knows
Take all your gold and you go

Source: LyricFind

Songwriters: Lorence Hud

Sign of the Gypsy Queen lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

“Sign of the Gypsy Queen”
Single by April Wine
from the album The Nature of the Beast
B-side“Crash and Burn”
Released1981
StudioLe Manoir
GenreHard rock progressive rock
Length4:18
LabelAquarius Capitol
Songwriter(s)Lorence Hud
Producer(s)Myles Goodwyn Mike “Clay” Stone
April Wine singles chronology
Just Between You and Me
(1980) “Sign of the Gypsy Queen
(1981) “Enough Is Enough”
(1981)
Audio
“Sign of the Gypsy Queen” on YouTube

NAR © 2023

Longer Stories

HER DRIVING FORCE


When she saw him for the first time, he was walking alone at night in the pouring rain. She sat in her car, stopped at a red light, and watched as he slowly tramped forward, head lowered, collar raised and hands in his pockets. He seemed haunted, lost and oblivious to the weather and his surroundings.

He appeared to be in his late teens, tall and slim. Even though she couldn’t see his eyes she felt a great sadness must be behind them. She had the strong urge to reach out to him. She experienced that familiar combination of sympathy, nurturing, curiosity and desire. 

The light changed and she had no choice but to move on. Instead of going straight she turned right once, twice, three times until she was now at the corner just as the teen approached. She pulled up to the curb and rolled down the window, asking if he needed help, perhaps a ride to wherever he was headed. At first her questions got no response; neither she nor the young man moved. Then he slowly raised his head and looked up. His eyes were lifeless, his face devoid of emotion. 

Again she called out to him, saying he must be cold, possibly hungry. No reaction. She leaned across the seat and opened the passenger door offering him shelter from the rain. Still he did not move and she quietly asked him to allow her to help. His face softened imperceptibly and he tentatively approached the car. She said to please get in and close the door. She smiled as he did what she asked. 

She inquired if she could take him somewhere; no response. Shifting the car into drive she headed in the direction of her house. She told him he could trust her. She offered him the comfort of a hot meal and a place to rest. He sat looking straight ahead, saying nothing. She spoke softly, telling him she had groceries in the car – a freshly roasted chicken and warm bread – and she noticed he inhaled slightly, savoring the delectable aromas. She drove into her driveway, pulled straight into the garage and closed the door using the remote control. With a velvety laugh she told the young man she was famished and was going inside to eat. He was welcome to join her – his choice. 

She became aware of his presence before she saw him. He stood in the hallway, his sopping wet coat dripping on the floor. She told him to remove it and she gingerly helped him take it off, hanging it on a hook to dry. She placed heaping platters of food on the table and only then did he look up, his face expressionless yet more handsome than she imagined. He allowed her to lead him to the table where his hunger overcame him and he devoured everything on his plate, never once looking at her.

When he finished eating she brought him to the den where he sat on a sofa by the fireplace. Quietly she placed pieces of kindling and wood in the fireplace and watched as the flames began to flicker, filling the room with a warm glow. When she turned around the teen was asleep, his face finally at rest. She removed his shoes, covered him with a blanket and went upstairs to bathe.

Slipping into a sheer robe, she went back downstairs and silently walked into the den. Her guest was awake, staring at the fire. She sat beside him and placed her hand over his. He didn’t move away. Emboldened, she lifted his hand and placed it on her breast. He shuddered and closed his eyes. Reaching across his body she placed her left hand on his right shoulder, turning him to face her and for the first time they looked into each other’s eyes. She shrugged off her robe and placed both his hands on her breasts, encouraging him to caress her. His breathing was ragged and she smiled seductively as she began to unbutton his shirt. Now his hands were roaming freely and he didn’t stop her when she unzipped his pants, feeling his erection growing harder beneath her deft fingers. 

She told him it had been four empty years since her husband’s sudden death and she was very lonely. Slowly she eased him back and mounted him, delighting in the exquisite sensation. She gyrated smoothy, deeply; there was no need to rush. Afterwards they went upstairs to her room. There was much she could teach this boy and the possibilities excited her. 

The next morning when she awoke she was alone. She went downstairs but he was gone. Unperturbed, she walked into the kitchen and brewed some coffee. She lit a cigarette and sat at her laptop. Clicking a key she studied the roadmap that appeared on the screen, contemplating her next objective. In which direction would she drive tonight?

NAR © 2023

Won’t you join me today
for another rousing game of
Name That Tune?
It’s gonna be fun!
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Name That Tune

NAME THAT TUNE (September 24, 2023)

Welcome back to Name That Tune! I’m The Sicilian Storyteller and it’s my turn to toss out a few questions in the hope you’ll be able to guess the name of today’s featured song and the person who performed it.

Are you ready to rumble? Here are your five clues; let’s see how well you do. Put on your wizard caps and conjure up a little magic for this one. And, we’re off!

  1. Today’s featured song was written by an American singer-songwriter in 1968 and was first recorded by an Irish actor/singer. His version peaked at #2 on the Billboard Hot 100 chart and at #4 on the UK Singles Chart.
  2. Additional recordings of this song were released – one was a 1969 Grammy-winner by a country-western singer and another was a #1 Billboard Hot 100 disco arrangement from 1978, sung by “The Queen of Disco”.
  3. Our very famous Irish singer/actor of today’s song was offered a huge role in the Harry Potter movies which he almost turned down due to poor health; he ultimately accepted the role because his then 11-year-old granddaughter threatened never to speak to him again if he did not take it!
  4. The song’s somewhat bizarre lyrics led to believe that it was totally made up; however, the composer said the song symbolized the end of a love affair and claimed that everything mentioned in the song was personally witnessed by him and nothing was fabricated. This same terminated love affair also sparked the famous song “By the Time I Get to Phoenix”. Boy! That must have been one hot love affair!
  5. Today’s featured performer had a very varied career spanning 46 years in which he portrayed many characters ranging from a Roman emperor to a coal miner to King Arthur and, of course, a wizard.

Do you think you know the answers? Well, let’s check by scrolling down beyond the spinning record for the big reveal.

If you said “I know! It’s ‘MacArthur Park’ sung by Richard Harris”, you’d be right. Congratulations! Let’s tune into that iconic song right now.

Ok, let’s be honest. How many of you thought composer Jimmy Webb was on some kind of acid trip when he wrote this song? I know I did! It isn’t every day someone is in the park and leaves a cake out in the rain but if Jimmy said he saw it then I guess he saw it (wink, wink).

MacArthur Park was meant to be a cantata which Jimmy Webb first pitched to the group, The Association; they turned it down. Along came Richard Harris who took the soggy cake and ran with it and the song became a success.

So, what about the two covers I mentioned in Clue #2? Here’s the first one done by country music star Waylon Jennings which won a Grammy. I gotta say, kids, I have a pretty good memory and I don’t remember this ditty at all. 🤷🏼‍♀️ What about you? Here, let’s have a listen:

I’m banking on all of you knowing this one. Here’s the one and only “Queen of Disco”, the amazing Donna Summer! Polish up your disco balls, boys and girls. Let’s spin it!

Incredible! What a great voice the Disco Queen had! You have to admit it; disco was a happening scene! 🕺🏻

I hope you enjoyed this Sunday in the park with me playing Name That Tune. Catch you next week for another go.

See you on the flip side.

I’m The Sicilian Storyteller

NAR © 2023

Flash

ANYONE HERE?

© Nancy Richy

Ooh!

A complimentary gift certificate for a day at the spa!

Perfect for a little R&R.

Just some quality ‘me time‘ because I’m so worth it.

Caught up in the daily maelstrom of doing for everyone else.

This will be heavenly!

Ah, here we are.

Hmm, looks a bit spartan.

Anyone here?

Hello?

Anyone?

Well, shit!

NAR © 2023
56 Words

Short Story

WITHOUT A TRACE

© Ayr/Gray

Behind the windows of this estate there once resided a reclusive couple. It’s said that everyone has a story; this couple was no exception. 

As young newlyweds they longed for a child but were unable to conceive. They sought the advice of seers and gypsies, to no avail.

Now middle-aged, the wife found she was pregnant. She was told the babe would not survive but survive it did and grew inside its mother, causing her great discomfort. Finally the time arrived for the birth. The wife labored for hours and as the baby’s head began to emerge, the midwife screamed and ran from the house.

The husband took the midwife’s place and immediately recoiled in fear. The wife pleaded for her husband to pull the baby from her body but he refused. Reaching down between her legs, the wife grabbed hold and pulled until the babe was free. Asking her husband to bring the lantern closer so she could see the infant, the new mother gasped and cried out in horror and despair. 

The poor babe was grotesque, his head enormous with eyes fused closed and his mouth a mere slit.

Without looking back, the husband left the house, heading to the tavern to drown his sorrows. He informed everyone that the baby had died. Filled with remorse, he returned home to find his wife and baby gone. He went searching but never found them. He died, a broken man. 

No trace was ever found of the mother or baby.

NAR © 2023
250 Words

Short Story

THE NIGHT STALKER

The other night I was sound asleep when I gradually became aware of a noise somewhere in the background of my mind. I could tell it wasn’t an intruder … nothing so threatening or invasive as that. It was more of an ambient sound; it came and went and I was only vaguely aware of it – just enough to ambush my slumber.

The recurring sound eventually roused me completely from my sleep. Asking myself “What is that?”, I elbowed my snoring husband and was rewarded with a prolonged, irritated grunt. Whispering his name and tapping him on the shoulder did nothing so I was forced to use the bicep shove.

Honey! There’s a noise and it won’t stop. I think it may be coming from the bathroom.”

“GRLBRTH! Probly tlet. Jgl hndl” was my husband’s alien-sounding response. Being fluent in S.I. (Sleepus Interruptus), I had no trouble translating. I padded into the bathroom and jiggled the toilet handle, per my husband’s instructions. I listened to the water run for a bit, then stop. Quiet was restored.

All of a sudden, something felt like it darted by me and I was momentarily startled. Cautiously I found my way to the bedroom door, and peeked into the hall; without my glasses I could only make out blurred images but nothing seemed amiss. Satisfied all was as it should be, I turned back into the bedroom, leaving the door ajar to allow for the air to circulate on this cool September night.

I climbed back into bed and pulled the covers up around my face. Just as I was about to slip back into the arms of Morpheus, the noise returned and I did an eye roll behind my closed lids. Reluctant to leave my cozy cocoon a second time, I chose the wait-and-see option. Eventually the sounds stopped and I fell back to sleep.

Like the soft beat of a tom-tom on a far-away island, the distant yet persistent swooshing sound once more made its presence known. My shoulders sagged and I sighed deeply; a grim realization set in – sleeplessness had won out. I felt cheated, gypped out of a decent night’s stay in The Land of Nod.

As I lay there becoming increasingly annoyed, another vexing fact occurred to me: today was the beginning of a long holiday weekend. The odds of contacting a plumber, let alone finding one willing to come to the house, would be slim at best.

I sat up in bed, my back resting against the cushy pillows, as my vision gradually became accustomed to the dimness of the pre-dawn hour. Squinting through sandy eyes, I barely made out an ethereal shadow in the bathroom; it was the Night Stalker – of that I was certain. I reached for my glasses and the creature’s image came into clear view. She looked directly into my eyes and intentionally, deliberately choosing to defy me, stretched out her arm.

What happened next was something I had never witnessed before; I stared in amazement. Part of me was amused, just slightly. Reaching for a paperback book on my nightstand, I heaved it in the general direction of the offender in the bathroom. The book missed its mark and succeeded only in knocking several items to the floor.

“You little bitch,” I hissed.

She jumped off the toilet and strolled away indifferently, typically ignoring my existence.

“Next time jiggle the handle, you beast!’

Lucy Richy, The Night Stalker
© NAR

NAR © 2023

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