The claustrophobia started gradually for four-year-old Phoebe.
She had climbed into the back of her fatherβs flatbed truck to investigate the crates of chickens ready for market. Phoebe went unnoticed as her father threw a tarp over the back and locked the tailgate. When her dad found her, she was curled up in a ball, crying pitifully.
Over time, Phoebe seemed to forget about the incident in the truck.
Years later Phoebe was accidentally locked in her bedroom closet when a gust of wind blew through the window and slammed the closet door closed. Her parents were out and her older siblings were watching television; her frantic cries for help went unnoticed. Exhausted, Phoebe fell asleep in the closet, her family unaware. Her mother found her the next morning, traumatized.
Incidents like that kept happening. Phoebe became obsessed with her surroundings and her parents sought professional help. After eight years in the hospital, Phoebe was declared βcuredβ.
She met Evan, a great guy, and they began dating. Life was good again for Phoebe. For her birthday, Evan and Phoebe planned to see her favorite band. She felt safe with Evan and was unafraid to ride public transportation.
The train was packed. During one stop, Evan was pushed out with a crowd of passengers; the doors closed before he could get back in. Phoebe panicked when the train started up. She lost it.
At the last stop, Phoebe was found in the corner – disheveled, mumbling, eyes wild in terror. She was finally noticed.
βStop lollygagging, you gang of pencil neck geeks, and get a move on! We donβt have a gazillion hours to waste. A performance awaits us so step lively. And speaking of step, watch yours. There’s goop about.
Greta! Grab hold of those goslings!
George! Stop giving Ginger googly eyes!
Glenda and Gloria! Quit gabbing!
Listen up, guys. Christmas will be here before you know it. If you donβt wanna get cooked, we gotta nail that βsix geese a-layingβ verse. We need two more geese in our gaggle to make three groups of six.
This ovi poem is based on a horrible rollover accident from 2001 in which my husband and I were involved. The photo above is what was left of my car. I believe in God and I’m sure he was watching over us. It’s been 23 years but I still have dreams of that day.
So, I was on the road early this morning and there was a good deal of traffic. Fortunately, the long version of “Light My Fire” came on SiriusXM followed by a Rush yawn-athon. I won’t inflict Rush on you but here are the Doors. Knock yourselves out, kids!
This is Week 32 of Glyn’sMixed Music Bag and we are being asked to choose a song by a group or solo artist whose name begins with the letters O or P. This is my choice.
Formed in Hereford, England in March 1978 the Pretenders is an English/American rock group with the fabulous Chrissie Hynde behind the mic. The original band was formed by Hynde, who was the main songwriter, lead vocalist and rhythm guitarist, and included James Honeyman-Scott (lead guitar, backing vocals, keyboards), Pete Farndon (bass guitar, backing vocals), and Martin Chambers (drums, backing vocals, percussion).
Following the unfortunate deaths of Honeyman-Scott (1982) and Farndon (1983), both due to drugs, the band experienced numerous subsequent personnel changes, with Chrissie Hynde as the only consistent member, and Chambers returning after an absence of several years.
Hynde launched a solo career in 2014; after several years without performing, the Pretenders took to the road again in 2017. Chrissie Hynde and Ray Davies of The Kinks share a daughter, Natalie, born in 1983.
The Pretenders produced numerous hit songs including βBrass in Pocketβ, βBack On the Chain Gangβ and βDon’t Get Me Wrongβ, as well as the 1994 hit βI’ll Stand By Youβ. Their eponymous debut studio album made the band famous with its combination of punk, rock and pop music. The band was inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame in 2005.
My song today is βBrass In Pocket“.
The phrase “brass in pocket” is British slang for having money in your pants. Chrissie Hynde heard the phrase backstage at one of their gigs in 1978 and immediately liked it.Β She later used it in the lyrics to their song “Brass In Pocket,” which is about a female singer approaching her first sexual encounter with confidence.Β The song was a breakthrough for the band and topped the UK charts in early 1980.
“Brass In Pocket” was released as the band’s third single. It was their first big success, reaching #1 on the UK Singles ChartΒ for two weeks in January 1980 (making it the first new #1 single of the 1980s), #2 in Australia during May 1980 (for three weeks)Β and #14 on the Billboard Hot 100 chart in the United States. It was listed at #389 on Rolling Stone’s “Top 500 Greatest Songs of All Time” in 2021.
In the official video, Hynde portrays a lonely waitress in a backstreet cafe. The rest of the band play customers who arrive in a large pink 1959 Cadillac Fleetwood 60 Special. The three guys peruse the menus but are soon joined by their girlfriends. All six then leave the restaurant.
This is βBrass In Pocketβ by the Pretenders.
Lyrics
I got brass in a pocket I got bottle, I’m gonna use it Intention, I feel inventive Gonna make you, make you, make you notice
Got motion, restrained emotion Been driving, Detroit leaning No reason, just seems so pleasing Gonna make you, make you, make you notice
Gonna use my arms, gonna use my legs Gonna use my style, gonna use my sidestep Gonna use my fingers, gonna use my, my, my Imagination
‘Cause I gonna make you see There’s nobody else here, no one like me I’m special (special) So special (special) I gotta have some of your attention, give it to me
I got rhythm, I can’t miss a beat I got a new skank, so reet Got something, I’m winking at you Gonna make you, make you, make you notice
Gonna use my arms, gonna use my legs Gonna use my style, gonna use my sidestep Gonna use my fingers, gonna use my, my, my Imagination
‘Cause I gonna make you see There’s nobody else here, no one like me I’m special (special) So special (special) I gotta have some of your attention, give it to me
‘Cause I gonna make you see There’s nobody else here, no one like me I’m special (special) So special (special) I gotta have some of your attention, give it to me
This is my 3rd story about Harvey and Fiona. For a look back at earlier installments, click here.
While Harvey slept during the day Fiona cleaned, shopped and cooked. She wanted a vacuum cleaner but Harvey said it was too expensive and the noise would keep him awake so she settled for a carpet sweeper. Their only chance to be together was at breakfast and dinner time β and of course for coffee and dessert when Fiona served Harvey his favorite apple pie. Fiona loved baking and it was all worth it to see the way Harveyβs face lit up every time she made another pie.
Fiona suggested a few times that it would be nice if Harvey worked during the day so they could be like a normal couple and spend more time together but her words fell on deaf ears.
She also longed for a baby. Each time she thought she was pregnant it turned out to be a false alarm. Fiona saw a doctor who wasnβt very sympathetic; he shrugged his shoulders, gave her ambiguous explanations and performed a couple of routine tests. He told her it was just one of those things; not all couples could get pregnant. When Fiona finally got up the nerve to mention to Harvey what the doctor told her, he laughed and said it wasnβt his fault she couldnβt get pregnant; βJust ask that sweet little Frenchie I knocked up during the warβ was his mean-spirited reply.
Fiona felt like sheβd been kicked in the gut. When she cried that she needed something other than chores to fill her lonely days, Harvey yelled to βgo get a job and start earninβ ya keep around here! Who needs another mouth to feed anyways?β Fiona was reeling; how could he say such hurtful things? Heartbroken, she eventually gave up on having a baby and found a job as a presser in a shirt factory. The work was exhausting and she still had to clean the apartment and cook for Harvey … and bake.
What happened to the guy she married? Harvey was constantly annoyed about something or other and drank more now than usual. He got mean when he drank and Fiona bore the brunt of his anger. When he demanded sex every night before going to work, she kept her mouth shut but she was silently screaming. This was no way to exist, like a piece of property and not a person. Sheβd lie awake at night remembering her motherβs warning words: βJesus, Mary and Joseph! Canβt you see heβs no good for you? I donβt trust him, Fina girl!β The only thing in her God-forsaken life that she truly enjoyed was baking and she did it all for Harvey.
Fiona would fantasize about how lovely it would be to have her own little bake shop; sheβd make lots of delicious cakes and pies for her large following of loyal customers β not just for her selfish husband. She knew she could do it if she only had the chance.
To be continued. For a look back at earlier installments, click here.
Mary went rigid and her soft brown eyes filled with tears when she saw the orthodontistβs bill. With no dental insurance, sheβd have to find some way to defray the expense.
For the past few nights my sleep hasn’t been good but last night was the worst of all. We had a power failure! This was definitely not cool! No AC and nowhere to go to escape the heat. My apartment was dark and all the lightsoutside were off so I knew this was a widespread blackout, likely coveringmiles and involving the entire apartment complex. I aimed a flashlight at the thermometer on my balcony. Big mistake: it read 98ΒΊ! Somehow knowing the temperature made it worse. And the mix of humidity and heat made everything feel gross. I desperately needed to get some rest. Winding my way into the bedroom, I heard a sound like heavy breathing coming from the bathroom. Sweeping the room with my flashlight, I located the source of the sound and I simply had to laugh; my dog Fred found somewhere to hide away from the heat and was fast asleep on the floor of the marble shower! This oppressive weather had done a number on him, too, poor guy. I was drained of all energy. I grabbed a small battery operated fan from the shelf, set it for high and collapsed onto the bed. I was asleep in seconds.
Today at Song Lyric Sunday, Jim has asked us to choose a song that begins with the same letter as our first name. For me that would be the letter N. Here is my song.
L-R Nancy Sinatra Jr, Frank Sinatra Sr, Nancy Sinatra Sr, Frank Sinatra Jr; in front Tina Sinatra, 1948
When I say βhere is my songβ Β I really mean MY song. From the time I was a baby and able to understand a few words, this song was special to me. As I got older it became even more special β¦ particularly when my dad would sing it. There are a lot of memories attached to this song; I honestly thought it was written for me and that Frank Sinatra was singing it directly to me. You may recall from another of my posts that my dad hated Sinatra; this may be the only song by Frank that Dad liked. My sister Rosemarie really hated my song because she didnβt like any of HER songs; sheβd whine that her songs werenβt as pretty and personal as mine and sheβd get annoyed every time it was played. But the thing she hated the most was the line βsorry for you, she has no sisterβ! I guess I can’t blame her for that!
Have you figured out what my song is? Since it was made popular by Frank Sinatra most people wrongly assumed the song was composed specifically for his daughter. Well, that was a pretty big clue so you must know the answer by now! My song choice for todayβs Song Lyric Sunday is βNancy (With the Laughing Face)β.
The music for the song was composed in 1942 by Jimmy Van Heusen with lyrics written by comedian/lyricist Phil Silvers; it was originally called βBessie (With the Laughing Face)β. Bessie? Who the hell was Bessie? Well, back in 1942 there was a famous lyricist named Johnny Burke who was married to our mysterious Bessie. Jimmy Van Heusen and Phil Silvers wrote the song for their friend Johnny Burke as a surprise for his wife Bessieβs birthday.
All the women at Bessie Burkeβs birthday party loved the song so much, they started requesting that it be sung at their parties as well. Apparently Frank Sinatra wasnβt at any of those parties because when his friends Jimmy Van Heusen and Phil Silvers sang the song as “Nancy (With the Laughing Face)” at little Nancy Sinatra’s birthday party, Frank broke down and cried, thinking it had been written especially for his daughter! Johnny Burke, Jimmy Van Heusen and Phil Silvers wisely didn’t correct him.
In 1944, Frank Sinatra recorded the song as βNancy (With the Laughing Face)” and it became a fan favorite. When I was born several years later, the song became a favorite in our house as well.
This is βNancyβ by Frank Sinatra
Lyrics
If I don’t see her each day, I miss her Gee, what a thrill each time I kiss her Believe me, I’ve got a case On Nancy with the laughin’ face She takes the winter and makes it summer But summer could take some lessons from her Picture a tomboy in lace That’s Nancy with the laughin’ face Did you ever hear mission bells ringin’? Well, she’ll give you the very same glow When she speaks you would think it was singin’ Just hear her say hello I swear to goodness you can’t resist her Sorry for you, she has no sister No angel could replace Nancy with the laughin’ face
Keep Betty Grable, Lamour and Turner She makes my heart a charcoal burner Itβs heaven when I embrace My Nancy with the laughinβ face
There were no pens that turned into parachutes. There were no Alfa Romeos, Jaguars or Aston Martins to drive along the Positano coast in a high-speed chase. Not a single suave and dangerous owner of a multi-million dollar casino. Nary a gorgeous, exotic, provocative sex bomb with a highly suggestive name. There were no martinis β¦ neither shaken nor stirred.
In short, there was no excitement, no risk, no action. Not once did I dive behind a sofa while bullets flew across the room. Never did I slide down a roof covered with Mediterranean tiles, land smoothly in my waiting MG and speed away from the bad guys. I have never been shot in the neck with a poison dart. Never was I threatened and tossed out a window by a jealous husband.
Thatβs the life I was expecting when I was recruited by the Enigma International Elite Investigative Organization .β¦ otherwise known as E.I.E.I.O. My dream profession as a super-secret special agent was nothing but one boring stakeout after another.
Time to report in: βNegative, sir. Nothing going on at the location. Not even the car in the alley has moved.β
βAlley?β
βYes, sir. On the left.β
βYour target has no alley, Hammer; itβs attached on both sides. Youβre watching the wrong house, you idiot! Report to headquarters. Now!β
Eileen gathered some boxes from the attic and began to pack up her late husbandβs belongings; Ned always told Eileen he wanted his things donated to the menβs shelter.
Now the drawer was empty except for a folder; inside Eileen found Nedβs sketches of their lake. Leafing through them, Eileen was outraged to see drawings of her sister Denise in the lake dated 2023 β the last time she visited. Ned and Denise had a fling years ago but Ned ended it β or so he said.
Eileen put the sketches back into the folder. Time for a little chat with Denise.
Bill & Jim working on yet another crossword puzzle together
Tomorrow will be 4 months since my husbandβs identical twin brother died suddenly. His wife returned home from a walk and found him on the bedroom floor; she said he was still warm. The news felt like an arrow ripped through our hearts. Jim was dead. How was my sister-in-law ever again going to walk into her bedroom without picturing her husbandβs body? How was my husband Bill going to face the rest of his life as the lone twin? At one time there were three brothers; now there is only Bill. This is the most difficult trial for him. My husband lost a piece of himself that day. We are numb, disbelieving, questioning, dazed, numb, numb, so unbelievably numb.
You know how people say that time flies? Not when it comes to Jim; time has stopped for us. Logically we know heβs dead but our hearts cannot accept it. Itβs unbelievable, inconceivable for us. It doesnβt feel possible. We function normally every day, do the same old crap, talk and eat and laugh. We watch movies, go shopping, pay bills, gab on the phone, babysit. We live the same lives we lived before Jim died except heβs not here to share them and we cannot wrap our heads around that. It just doesn’t feel like he’s dead. He should be here. It’s not right that heβs not here. It’s like someone has played the cruelest joke on us.
Now, when my sister-in-law looks at Bill, itβs Jimβs face she sees. And sometimes when I look at my husband, I see Jim and I find myself pondering why Jim was the twin who was taken.
I am Bill’s wife but Jim was his other half.
save them in your heart golden summer memories for when winter comes
City Island, Bronx NY circa 1950 No idea who’s who!
Written for Glyn Wiltonβs Mixed Music Bag week #31and our final week showcasing the letters M & N. I chose M.
Iβve chosen to close out July with a 1963 high octane hit by an incredible Motown girl group.
In 1957 friends Annette Beard, Rosaline Ashford and Gloria Williams formed the group known as the Del-Phis; eventually Martha Reeves joined the group. In 1961 the group’s name was changed to The Vels. Right around this time Gloria Williams left the group and Martha Reeves moved up in ranks as lead vocalist. In 1967 the name was changed for a third time to Martha and the Vandellas. During a nine-year run from 1963-1972,Β the group charted over 26 hits recorded in the styles of doo-wop, R&B, pop, blues, rock and roll and soul. In 1995, Martha and the Vandellas was inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame.
βHeat Waveβ was written in 1963 by the songwriting team of Holland-Dozier-Holland and was a hit for Martha and the Vandellas. Released as a single on the Motown subsidiary Gordy label, the song garnered a Grammy Award nomination …. the first Motown group to ever do so. The single reached #1 on the Billboard Hot R&B chart …. where it stayed for four weeks …. and peaking at #4 on the Billboard Hot 100. Billboard named the song #12 on their list of 100 Greatest Girl Group Songs.
Instrumentation for “Heatwave” was done by The Funk Brothers, a group of Detroit-based session musicians who performed the backing to most Motown recordings from 1959 until 1972 when the company moved to Los Angeles.
βHeat Waveβ was one of the first songs to exemplify the style of music later termed as the βMotown Soundβ. Here are Martha and the Vandellaswith their 1963 hit, βHeat Waveβ.
Lyrics
Whenever I’m with him Something inside starts to burning And I’m filled with desire Could it be the devil in me Or is this the way love’s supposed to be?
It’s like a heat wave It’s burning in my heart I can’t keep from burning It’s tearing me apart
Whenever he calls my name so softly and plain Right then, right there, I feel that burning flame Has high blood pressure got a hold on me? Is this the way love’s supposed to be?
It’s like a heat wave It’s burning in my heart I can’t keep from burning It’s tearing me apart
Sometimes I stare in space Tears all over my face I can’t explain it, don’t understand it I ain’t never felt like this before
Now this funny feeling has me amazed Don’t know what to do, my head’s in a haze It’s like a heat wave
Yeah yeah Yeah yeah Ha oh yeah
Yeah yeah Yeah yeah Oh yeah
I feel it burning right here in my heart Don’t you know it’s like a heat wave?
Yeah yeah Yeah yeah Oh
Don’t you know it’s like a heat wave Burning right here in my heart?
Written for Sunday Whirl Wordle 665 where we are to turn the word salad shown below into a story or poem. Here is my story.
tangle surface call back deep room kisses edge sense sketches silhouette windswept
SHADOW MAN
It was a sense rather than actually seeing β¦ his unmistakable silhouette inching closer to the back of my room. I used to have dreams where I would find myself stuck in a deep well and I would call out to anyone up on the surface for help. He would run to the well and drop a rope over the edge. I would climb up, elated to be rescued! My windswept hair was in a tangle and I reached out to pull him closer, to have him take me into his arms and trail warm kisses down my neck … but he was only a shadow and not a real man. I would awaken, saddened by the thought that my dreams would never come true. But tonight, as I recline on my bed tracing sketches of him on the sheet with my finger, I feel his presence in flesh and blood; I am eager to embrace my mysterious shadow man.
The sound of laughter drifted up from the street below, making Gregory feel very alone.
Itβs hard to imagine life without her. When the hell did everything start to unravel?
Now he sat alone in the shell of their apartment, baseball game on the tv playing for no one, nursing his second scotch. This place used to be alive with people enjoying one of their famous parties. When he closed his eyes he could hear their friendsβ lively discussions and the sound of her spirited laugh.
Everyone said they were the perfect couple. Theirs was a comfortable, easy marriage β dinner at Gallagherβs, cycling along Riverside Drive, steamy showers after Saturday morning sex. They were in sync in their choices of movies, paint colors and the biggest decision of all .β¦ neither one wanted kids.
He sat there, head in hands while a thousand thoughts went through his mind. When did he begin having second thoughts? Was it when her sister asked them to be godparents for her first baby? Was it watching the kids in the playground across the street? All he could remember was the night he whispered in her ear that he wanted to have a baby.
She was blindsided. What? No! He was just named partner at Central Casting. She was food editor for Country Living magazine. Life was perfect. They had an agreement, dammit!
Would she just consider thinking about it? No! How could he spring this on her now?
Days, weeks went by. She remained adamant, distant. Then one day he came home after work and she was gone.Β
Here he sat alone with his scotch, ballgame long over, thumb rubbing his wedding band while he stared at divorce papers.
It couldnβt have happened to a more perfect couple.
Today at Song Lyric Sunday the theme is to choose a song beginning with the same letter as my last name, which is R. Here is my feature.
Before you could send a text or call someone in their car, there was no way to communicate with a driver unless you had a certain telepathic love that could convey from a distance your desire to be with that person, something you might call β oh, I donβt know β maybe something like radar love.
In the song βRadar Loveβ, the MC has been driving all night but keeps pushing the pedal because he just knows that his baby wants him home. In his rush to be with her, he drives recklessly and dies in a car accident. Tragic, isnβt it? But perhaps all is not lost, as the song suggests …. the MC and his lover continue to have a radar love connection in the afterlife.
βRadar Loveβ was written in 1973 by the Dutch group, Golden Earring. Members at the time were lead vocalist Barry Hay, bass and keyboardist Rinus Gerritsen, Cesar Zuiderwijk on drums & percussion and George Kooymans, vocals and lead guitar. The single version reached #9 on the Record World chart, #10 on Cash Box and #13 on Billboard in the US. It hit the Top 10 in many countries, including the UK, Canada, Australia, Canada, Germany, and Spain.
Like other famous songs of the era such as βBohemian Rhapsodyβ and βStairway To Heavenβ, “Radar Love” was composed as a suite with several distinctive and quite different sections. According to radar-love.net, the song has been covered more than 500 times.
This is βRadar Loveβ by Golden Earring
LYRICS
I’ve been drivin’ all night, my hand’s wet on the wheel
Written for The Unicorn Challenge where we are asked to get creative in 250 words or less using the photo prompt below for inspiration. Here is my story.
βWoods. Roger Woods. Please check againβ I implored the desk clerk at the Hotel Moderne.
βIβm sorry, madame, there is no reservation for that name.β The young man looked at me with a mixture of embarrassment and pity.
βYou must be mistakenβ I replied, my voice shaking.
βThere is no mistake, madame. Perhaps you have the wrong hotelβ the clerk suggested, offering me an out.
Of course I didnβt have the wrong hotel! Roger and I had been meeting here the second weekend of every month for three years.
I checked my phone for missed text messages or calls from Roger; there were none. Rather than stay in the lobby looking distraught and abandoned, I sat in the lounge and ordered a martini. I had a clear view of the front desk on the left and the entrance on the right. Iβd be able to see Roger the moment he arrived.
After thirty minutes and two martinis, I began feeling paranoid. It was painfully obvious, at least to me, that I looked like a lonesome and tedious woman who had been stood up.
I became aware of someone approaching. Expecting to see Roger, I looked up, smiling; it was the concierge. Whispering discreetly, he handed me a note: βDearest Cecile. I cherish our little rendezvous but itβs time to go our separate ways. Farewell. Rogerβ
‘Our little rendezvous!‘ I was shattered. Just like that, as unexpectedly as it began, it was over.
Looking straight ahead, I gracefully exited the hotel.
βDid you get it?β Ray asked when the door opened.
βYeah, but I had to shell out more money for itβ grumbled Joe-Bob.
βThat rat bastard! Hand it over β¦ and a flashlight.β Ray demanded.
βThis is primo, Joe-Bob! Gimme six Ds, will ya?β
Ray inserted the Ds and turned on his newly acquired battery-operated fan.
βListen, Joe-Bob. When Uncle Lester died, he left me a slew of money. Iβm gonna buy a state-of-the-art, solar-powered, non-electric RV. Iβm stocking up batteries βcos when that asshole gets elected, gas and electric prices will be insane. Iβm finally gonna beat the man!β
Welcome to Birthday Thursdays! Each week I will feature someone from the world of music whose birthday falls on this day. There wonβt be any chit chat from me, no facts and figures β just some great tunes (and an occasional surprise). Check it out right here every Thursday and enjoy the music.
Happy Birthday to Bruce Woodley Born July 25, 1942 in Melbourne, Australia
Written for Glynβs Mixed Music Bag Week #30where we are asked to write about a song by a groupor solo singer beginning with the letter M or N.This is my contribution.
When I was a teenager, my father and I would have the same disagreement at least every other week. It all revolved around my fatherβs comments regarding Frank Sinatra. His words never changed: βIf you want to listen to Frank Sinatra, go ahead. Iβll be in another room.β
And, even though I knew what he was going to say, I asked anyway: βWhy donβt you like Frank Sinatra, Dad? Heβs a great singer!β My father would reply βI know heβs a great singer and performer but heβs a lousy, no-good womanizing bum who hangs out with gangsters and is a disgrace to his Italian roots. I like Sinatra, the βartistβ but I have no use for Sinatra, the βmanβ!β
Of course, I couldnβt resist fanning the flames just a bit more by saying something like βFrank Sinatra doesnβt even know you exist! Itβs not his personal life but his artistic contributions that people should care about.β And weβd dance around that argument for half an hour or so until my mother finally threatened us with bodily harm.
So, isnβt it ironic that I am now saying something quite similar to what my father said all those years ago?
And itβs all about my featured artist today. I never dreamed I would be featuring Paul McCartney today (or any other day). If I were to rank The Beatles in order by my personal favorite, Paul would come in 5th! All kidding aside, Iβm not a fan of Paul McCartney, the “man”, but I freely admit that he is one of the most talented musicians to have graced us with his work. Today Iβm showcasing two of his pieces from his incredibly prolific solo career.
The first song is called βDonβt Let the Sun Catch You Cryingβ which is done very much in the style of a jazzy Billy Joel. This is NOT the Gerry and the Pacemakersβ hit we all know and love. Written in 1946 by Joe Greene, this number is included on the 1990 LP by McCartney called βTripping the Live Fantastic.β Letβs have a listen.
This is βDonβt Let the Sun Catch You Cryingβ by Paul McCartney.
The second song is a piece entitled βUsed To Be Badβ which harkens back to the sounds of The Steve Miller Band and ZZ Top (not surprising since it was co-written by McCartney and Miller). This one is a bluesy number which keeps going from start to finish and can be found on McCartneyβs 1997 βFlaming Pieβ LP. Upon its release, the time was ripe for McCartney to deliver an album steeped in Beatles lore and thatβs exactly what he claimed βFlaming Pieβ was all about.
This is βUsed To Be Badβ by the one and only Macca.
I hope you enjoyed hearing a little McCartney today as well as my personal reflection and the videos I chose for you. I hope you Paul lovers aren’t too pissed off!
Written for Six Sentence Story where we are challenged to incorporate the word βplatformβ into a story of exactly six sentences. Hereβs my six.
Flower child, barefoot Woodstock hippie β¦. no, she was never one of those; she was always the sophisticated cool one with her oh so very low-rise jeans, alluring halter tops, ridiculously high platform shoes and drop dead smile.
At twenty she was chic in a smooth and sensual way that was second nature, never one who had to try too hard; she had IT while embracing her imperfections which made her intoxicatingly irresistible.
Living in the fast lane, she danced all night at clubs, rocked out at concerts and hung out with everyone from judges to junkies even though she never really enjoyed drugs with the exception of the indescribably exquisite quaalude which now, at 75, she smiles and remembers coming on to the sounds of Procol Harum.
Memories of 1967, the Summer of Love β¦. friends and lovers, never a lack of either; men were drawn to her and women were envious of her but it was impossible not to like her.
She was no alley cat, no βscrew-βem-in-the-disco-bathroomβ type; she made the rules to her game: never do anything you donβt want to and stop whenever you feel uncomfortable.
Her life was and still is a passionate one with no useless regrets, inadequate apologies or unbelievable explanations …. only her scars which show a life well lived …. and thatβs exactly how she likes it.
The other day I got some news that threw me for a loop; I felt like a headless chicken running βround the chicken coop.
You see, I met this awesome guy who made me lose my mind. A handsome man so witty and sexy can be awful hard to find.
We both had friends from childhood days who knew us very well. They figured if we two hooked up weβd get along rather swell.
My friend called me and his called him and we agreed on a date To meet at Charlieβs Ribs and Ale next Friday night at eight.
Well, I was pretty keen on the idea of meeting someone new; The last few dates I had were dull as hell and that would never do
See, Iβm the kind of girl who likes to go out and have some fun. An hour or two with some boring dude would have me on the run.
Iβm really not high maintenance, I just need some stimulation; The kind that gets my juices flowing and speeds up my circulation.
I know you know what Iβm referring to; I can see it in your eyes. I want a man who knows what’s what, the hows, the whens and whys.
So, there we were at Charlieβs, just waiting for our dates When in walked these two cool guys and I could barely wait.
They came straight to our table and I knew right off the bat This blue-eyed, bearded devil was a curious kind of cat.
He looked at me and I at him and our eyebrows began to rise When we thought perhaps we knew each other almost all our lives.
Weβd no idea that this blind date would not be so blind at all For although we thought we knew each other we couldnβt quite recall.
In fact, we never took the time to even learn each otherβs names. Our paths crossed countless times before as kids playing kiddie games.
Yes, we were nameless friends in school in days from way back when. We went to games and dances, seeing each other now and then.
We attended the same schools where we learned a thing or two But we never said βHey, whatβs your name? I think I may know you!β
Now here we were having fun, hitting it off like two peas in a pod; But the strange feeling that we knew each other was really very odd.
The night flew by, we ate and drank; this guy could talk the talk And deep inside my womanly mind I knew he could walk the walk.
So, I took a wild chance and asked him to come back to my place; He looked at me, eyes twinkling and a roguish grin upon his face.
We tried to act all nonchalant, no need to rush the night. He said he was a poet; I said βNo kidding? I like to write!β
We sat real close on my old couch and he said βTell me, whatβs your sign?β I turned to him, said βPiscesβ and he said βYeah? Thatβs the same as mine!β
He wove his fingers through my hair and slowly pulled back my head. I opened my mouth and licked my lips saying βTake me to my bed.β
We started slow, real nice and easy, just feeling each other out But it didnβt take long before both of us were doing the βTwist and Shoutβ.
This went on the whole night long; he was quite the voracious lad. I was his match and he was mine and none of it was bad.
We spent the next few days together; we got along really great. He told me his name was Kevin and I told him my name was Kate.
He said he lived in Baltimore now but was born in Kathmandu. His eyes nearly popped out his head when I said βWhat!? Me too!β
Things were really getting eerie now; we both knew this was bizarre Especially when we simultaneously said βOn March 10th in Paropakar!β
Now hold on, wait just a damn minute; how could this possibly be? We were born in the same hospital on the same day in 1993!
Our piercing eyes stared at each other as we silently sipped our tea. Who was going to ask the next question? Was it me or possibly he?
I grabbed the bull by the horns and asked him βWhatβs your momβs name?β He lowered his cup rather slowly and replied βWhy, itβs Germaine.β
I heaved an enormous sigh of relief which proved to be premature Cos he was adopted, his birth mom was Faye, of that he was quite sure.
I bolted straight upright and nearly fainted as I screamed βNo way!β For you see, I was adopted, too, and my birth momβs name was Faye!
Now this is no laughing matter, for Iβd just had me a night like no other With a guy who was to my dismay my long-lost fraternal twin brother!
It had been quite a long while since Rob and I had a chance to take a vacation, to escape the madness of the city to someplace remote and peaceful. Skiing sounded like a good idea, a break after the unbearably hot summer. All we wanted was a little get-away to relax and unwind.
Our Google search brought us to a place called Marmot Basin located in Jasper, an alpine town in Canadaβs Alberta province. The photos were breathtaking; the area was one of the most natural and unsoiled landscapes weβd ever seen. The site said Jasper was βan authentic mountain community that managed to retain a cozy, warm and βrealβ atmosphere with a laid-back vibeβ. It was also one of North Americaβs largest protected nature preserves. It would be great to get lost for a few days, forget about our hectic lives.
The flight to Jasper was interminable; eight hours with a connection in Denver. The time change did a number on us physically but our welcoming and romantic chateau more than made up for the tedious travel. It was rustic yet charming with beamed ceilings, comfy furniture and a huge fireplace. We spent our first night snuggled up in bed.
Right after breakfast the next morning we set out for a day of skiing. Hoping to find a secluded trail, we consulted one of the guides who gave us a couple of suggestions. We headed out, delighted to see a pristine layer of powdery snow. Looking around we realized we were the only people in the area and there was nothing in sight except evergreens on the hillside.
We started off slowly then gradually picked up speed; the conditions were perfect. About twenty minutes into our run we came upon a split in the trail. Taking a break, Rob leaned against a tree and consulted a map, deciding which way we should go. Suddenly we felt movement beneath our feet and the ground gave way in what sounded like a whispering waterfall. In an instant we were tumbling down, enveloped by cascades of snow.
It seemed like an eternity before I came to a stop. I was unable to move but realized I was still clutching my pole. Somehow I managed to wrangle my arm free from under my body and began whacking the snow above me. I didnβt know if I was under three feet of snow or thirty; I had to try to free myself. Snow kept falling on me as I hacked away. Slowly my grave became brighter and I realized a magicsliver of sunlight was peeking through. I heaved myself into an upright position and broke through the snow.
It was a struggle but I managed to climb out and started yelling for Rob. All I heard was my echo; everything was deathly silent. I found my phone in the inside pocket of my ski suit and dialed Robβs number hoping to hear his phone ring; I heard nothing. Checking my phone I saw there was no cell service in the area; I couldnβt even call for help. Gingerly I walked around a bit, all too aware the ground could give way at any moment. My only hope was to try to find help.
I must have walked for miles; the sun had set and I found myself surrounded by trees. I had no idea where I was. Exhausted, I fell to my knees, sobbing. If Rob was still buried in the snow there was no chance of finding him alive.
Through my tears I thought I saw a glimmer of light. I squinted and could barely make out the shape of a cabin in the woods. Was it real or magic? Was I hallucinating? I had to keep moving or I would surely die during the frigid night. Slowly I got to my feet and walked toward the light, praying it was not an illusion. I was so very tired; if only I could close my eyes just take a little rest before I continued. It was so bitterly cold.
Todayβs theme at Song Lyric Sunday is all about songs that feature great guitar riffs. Here’s my response. πΈ
My featured song today has one of the most recognizable and oft-played riffs in rock βnβ roll history β solid, simple and catchy as hell. And yet, as Deep Purple singer Ian Gillan once said, βSmoke On The Watermight never have been releasedβ, because initially the band didnβt think of it as anything special.
In the winter of 1971, when Purple began work on the Machine Head album in Montreux, Switzerland, guitarist Ritchie Blackmore played the riff in their first jam session, and as Gillan recalled: βWe didnβt make a big deal out of it. It was just another riff. We didnβt work on the arrangement β it was a jam.β
But by the end of the recording sessions they came up short of material, and so, in Gillanβs words, βWe dug out that jam and put vocals to it.β Blackmore played his Strat and was plugged into β as far as Gillan could recall β βa Vox AC30 and/or a Marshallβ. Over that mighty riff, the singer told the true story of how the Montreux casino β where Purple had been scheduled to record β burned down in a fire that started during a Frank Zappa concert. The lyrics “someone stupid with a flare gun burned the place to the ground” were born and with that, a deathless rock classic was created.
This is “Smoke On The Water” by Deep Purple.
Lyrics
We all came out to Montreux On the Lake Geneva shoreline To make records with a mobile, yeah We didn’t have much time now
Frank Zappa and the Mothers Were at the best place around But some stupid with a flare gun Burned the place to the ground
Smoke on the water, a fire in the sky (Smoke) on the water, you guys are great
They burned down the gambling house It died with an awful sound Funky Claude was running in and out He was pulling kids out the ground now
When it all was over Find another place Swiss time was running out It seemed that we would lose the race
Smoke on the water, a fire in the sky Smoke on the water
Burn it down
We ended up at the Grand Hotel It was empty, cold and bare The Rolling truck Stones thing just outside Huh, making our music there now
With a few red lights and a few old beds We made a place to sweat No matter what we get out of this I know, I know we’ll never forget
Smoke on the water, a fire in the sky Smoke on the water (I can’t hear anything)
Written for Six Sentence Story where we are challenged to incorporate the word βwireβ into a story of exactly six sentences. Hereβs my six.
There are parts of Jersey City which are very dangerous β¦. dingy bars, seedy hotels, mob-run strip joints and dark alleys where unspeakable things happened; Jack Black had a taste for all of them.
Most nights Jack would slither into his favorite bar, sit in the shadows on the end barstool, case the joint, nurse his bourbon and smoke his Lucky Strikes; Jack had patience and sooner or later sheβd walk in β¦. maybe a secretary working late or a bored and lonely housewife.
About 20 minutes later, a woman ran in from the rain and glanced around the room, her eyes ignoring Jack as she shook her damp dark brown hair, then headed to the bar and ordered a martini; she rummaged through her purse searching for her cigarette lighter and just as Jack was about to make his move, the bartender offered her a light.
Jack toyed with the electrical wire in his pocket, annoyed at missing his opportunity to talk up this new beauty, but the night was young and he had all the time in the world.
Cool as a cucumber, Jack watched as the woman sipped her martini and smoked her cigarette, but when she asked the bartender for a menu, Jack knew he had been given a second chance and his fingers did a tap dance of anticipation around the wire in his pocket; just then the door swung open and a man blew in and when the woman at the bar spotted him, she ran to him and they embraced as she exclaimed that he was right on time as dinner would be coming out any second.
Jack was not a happy boy at this turn of events and, seeing no reason to hang around, he opened the door to leave and walked right into a gorgeous blonde; laying on the charm, Jack apologized profusely and offered to buy the woman a drink to which she smiled, agreed and replied that she was bored which was β¦. as she put it β¦. a fate worse than death.
Written for The Unicorn Challenge where we are encouraged to be creative in 250 words or less using the photo below as inspiration. This is my story.
He was neither old nor young and if he had memories β¦ good, bad, happy or sad β¦ they were long forgotten, washed away like tears in rain.
His hand reached for his breast pocket, fingers touching the familiar object resting inside. A harmonica. He had no idea where it came from nor did he know why it was in his pocket yet somehow with an intrinsic knowledge he knew it was his.
Removing the instrument from his pocket, he stared at it as he reverently caressed the wood, reading the faded inscription. Raising it to his mouth, he began to play an old tune he forgot he even knew.
People passing by dropped coins into the white cloth shopping bag at his feet. He might not remember much but he’d never forget the delicious aroma of the crusty baguette in his bag.
A little boy of perhaps eight years of age shyly approached, dropped a coin in the manβs bag and ran back to his father waiting nearby. There was something about the older man that made the boyβs father pause for just a moment.
This ritual continued for several days and the two men pensively acknowledged each other with a nod.
One day before the boy ran back to his father, the man slipped the harmonica into his hand. When the boyβs father read the inscription, he knew. He looked up but the older man was gone.
He closed his eyes as a teardrop landed on the harmonica.
βLieutenant! Weβre getting a reading from the drone!β
βGimme that, Krebbs! It shows beyond these woods is a clearing with what appears to be life forms. Round up the team; letβs check this out.β
Guns drawn, the squad stealthily worked its way to the clearing. Slowly they emerged; the lieutenant pushed back his fedora and whistled through his teeth.
βWell, lookie here! Itβs the MIA grunge band, Rockit Gibraltar!β
βAre they dead, Lieutenant?β
βNah! Theyβre stoned. Must be that ramped-up drug β¦. Double Rubble. Call for a chopper, one equipped with a boulder holder. This ainβt no soft rock band!“
Written for GlynβsΒ Mixed Music Bag week #29where we are askedto writeabout a song by a group or solo singer beginning with the letter M or N.
Hard rock band Night Ranger was formed in San Francisco in 1982 and continued to gain popularity during the 1980s with a series of albums and singles. Guitarist Brad Gillis and drummer Kelly Keagy have been the band’s only constant members, though singer/bassist Jack Blades performed on all but one of their albums.
The band’s first five albums sold more than 17 million copies worldwide. They are best known for the 1984 power ballad βSister Christianβ which was inspired by drummer Kelly Keagy’s younger sister, Christy. Upon returning from a visit to his hometown of Eugene, Oregon, Keagy wrote the song after being astonished at the speed at which his βlittleβ sister was growing up. The song was the band’s biggest hit, peaking at #5 on the Billboard Hot 100 and staying on the charts for 24 weeks.
This is βSister Christianβ:
Another top 40 single in the 1980s for Night Ranger was βDonβt Tell Me You Love Meβ, a song written by vocalist/bassist Jack Blades about a hypothetical relationship that is “fun and happy” until it no longer is after one person confesses they love the other, at which point it gets weird.
This is βDonβt Tell Me You Love Meβ:
After their success waned in the late 1980s, the band split up in 1989 and its members pursued other musical endeavors including group and solo efforts. Night Ranger’s music is typically classified as hard rock, glam metal and arena rock.
Welcome toΒ Birthday Thursdays! Each week I will feature someone from the world of music whose birthday falls on this day. There wonβt be any chit chat from me, no facts and figures β just some great tunes (and an occasional surprise). Check it out right here every Thursday and enjoy the music.
Happy Birthday to Dion (DiMucci) Born July 18, 1939 in The Bronx, New York
The last time I used that title was for an essay in 4th or 5th grade!
Our vacation started the morning of Wednesday, July 10th. The destination? Mohegan Sun in Uncasville, CT to attend a concert and play the slots β¦. two things we havenβt done in a very long time. It’s a little more than a 2 1/2 hour drive straight up I-95. Check-in time wasn’t until 4PM but we lucked out because our room was ready when we arrived at noon and we were able to check in right away. We dropped off our bags in our room and headed for the slots.
One thing we forgot since the last time we were at Mohegan Sun is the place is enormous and designed in such a way that everything feels like it’s about 4 miles from everything else! We did a lot of walking and later in the day my lower back started barking like a junkyard dog but I wasn’t going to let that stop me! π
Sitting at the slot machines gave me a chance to rest and my back calmed down, but every time I started walking again the pain came back. We tried to limit our walking but it was extremely difficult.
Our main reason for going to Mohegan Sun was to see the Daryl Hall + Elvis Costello Concert Tour. We took advantage of the accommodations/concert package which meant we didnβt know in advance where weβd be sitting for the show or how much the tickets cost. You can see by the photo of my ticket that thereβs no price indicated. It turns out the seats were very good and we had a clear view of the stage.
We were in section 16, 5th row, seats 1 & 2 on the aisle next to Section 15.
Our view of the stage
Elvis Costello and his group performed first. They were excellent …. a tight little combo …. and I was surprised how much my husband liked them; he wasnβt familiar with Elvisβ music and didnβt know what to expect. We were both blown away by Elvis and his band …. keyboard player Steve Nieve and drummer Pete Thomas.
And I can say the same for my man, Daryl Hall. In all honesty, though, his sound check wasn’t the greatest and the sound quality was mixed. Hallβs band of seven was extremely loud in person but it doesn’t come across that way on the video. The songs were great, Daryl was in good voice and his piano playing was excellent. Some of the most enjoyable parts of the concert were the sax solos by Charlie DeChant who’s been playing with Daryl since the early days. That guy can really play! The concert wasn’t perfect but it was great and a long time coming for me.
Charlie DeChant
The action at the slots was pretty good β teaser payoffs, nothing big β and we probably broke even. Weβre not big time gamblers; itβs all about having fun and knowing when to walk away with some money in your pocket.
Just a few of the nearly 4,000 slot machines at Mohegan Sun
There were a few moments of panic during Saturday evening’s dinner when we heard about the shooting at the Trump rally. Our son Bill is a cameraman and teleprompter and has been assigned to cover some of the rallies. Heβs a grown man and doesnβt check in with us when heβs out of town for work so that night we didn’t know if he was at the rally or not. A couple of quick texts reassured us that Bill was safe (and at the Met game in Citi Field with his sons). This scare reminded me of something Iβve said many times: it doesnβt matter how old our children are; we will always worry about them.
Once we were assured our son was ok, we were able to relax and enjoy the rest of our vacation. We left Mohegan Sun Sunday morning and made ourselves comfortable for the 3 hour drive to Saratoga Race Course, where we spent one very exciting and extremely hot day, weather wise. It’s incredible watching the people who are into racing or following a particular horse; they really go nuts! My back was throbbing like a bass guitar and I had to sit a lot during the races.
After a day at the races, it was off to Lake George …. only a half hour drive. The entire area of Lake George is gorgeous and so very relaxing, which was exactly what we needed after five days of busy-ness. Thereβs nothing like being right on the water, sitting in a lounge chair and staring at a beautiful, peaceful view. I did a lot of that while at Lake George!
Lake George view from our hotel
It was wonderful to get away for a bit; it wasnβt our usual month in Montauk but it was just what we needed. I was surprised how much I missed blogging and I’m happy to be back here with all of you.
