Back in the glorious days of 1968, yours truly bought "Revolution" by the pre-Fab, er, Fab 4. It came packaged as a "45." Some of youse might not be familiar with the terminology. A long story so we will mosey onward.
Me being curiouser [ not sure if we are stealing from Dickens ] flipped the record over to notice a song entitled "Hey Jude." My first instinct was: "this tune will suck because it's the 'B' side. Well, not really suck, cos it's me boys but will probably not measure up to 'Revolution.'"
The joke was on me. [ apologies to the Bee Gees ] Number 1: "Hey Jude" was the "A" side; and secondly, the song blew me away. It had me at "hey."
I hate to admit this-you know how guys are-but I started dancing around the room. It was my first actual spiritual revelation, as I write now in hindsight. My first religious experience. It was 1968 and flower power was in vogue. I was just a mere lad of 17, but the tune transformed me into a different person. It was the most beautiful melody I had ever heard.
As chronicled earlier, "Revolution" was the song being played on the air waves, but when "Hey Jude" was broadcast on the old "Smothers Brothers" show, it immediately went through the roof in sales and popularity.
I have always said that "I Am the Walrus" is my favorite Beatles tune, but "Hey Jude" is interchangeable.
So this is tonite's foray. And thanks to youtube, who was bought by google last week.
Take a sad song and make it better, v.c.
P.S. B Side Smee Side!
P.S.S. As the story goes from Rolling Stone Magazine:
The Beatles' biggest U.S. single -- nine weeks at Number One -- was also their longest, at seven minutes and eleven seconds. During the recording sessions, the Beatles' producer, George Martin, objected to the length, claiming DJs would not play the song. "They will if it's us," John Lennon shot back. Paul McCartney wrote "Hey Jude" in June 1968, singing to himself on his way to visit Lennon's soon-to-be-ex-wife, Cynthia, and their son, Julian. The opening lines were, McCartney said in The Beatles Anthology, "a hopeful message for Julian: 'Come on, man, your parents got divorced. I know you're not happy, but you'll be OK.' " McCartney changed "Jules" to "Jude" -- a name inspired by Jud from the musical Oklahoma! -- and presented a demo tape to Lennon, who loved the song. He also thought McCartney was singing to him, about his relationship with Yoko Ono and the strains on the Lennon-McCartney partnership. But his self-centered reading underscored the universal comfort in McCartney's lyrics and the song's warm, rolling charm, fortified in the fade-out by a thirty-six-piece orchestra whose members (with one grumpy exception) also clapped and sang along -- for double their usual fee.
Kevin Bacon starred in the first one, and for his efforts, received a knife through the throat. And why did Jason Voorhees choose poor 'ol Kevin to meet the grim reaper? Cos he was having promiscuous sex with a member of the opposite sex. The setting: Camp Crystal Lake. Far from civilization.
As chronicled in "Scream," via Wes Craven. If you be a young adult and take off your clothes and have sex and yer in the woods, then a serial killer will prey upon you and slice and dice you-up faster than a vegematic. Apologies to Ron Popiel.*
I have been hooked on these demented forays ever since my mom took me to see "I Was A Teenage Werewolf," which starred L'il Joe Cartwright. Circa 1956 or thereabouts, and me, a mere tyke of five.
Semper fi, er, sci-fi, v.c.P.S. The inventor of "pocket fisherman" and spray shoe polish for those annoying bald spots on your head.
Strong to the finish, until he ate his spinach.
Bluto was the best villian, imho. Et tu, Brutus? v.c.P.S. A tip of the cap to Slippery for sending in tonite's foray.
Tonight I rewrote my post from yesteryear, er, yesterday. A few stilted sentences if you will.
I learned about stilted sentences back in the early years of the 70's, when I attended "Truck U." University. I had creative writing courses, cos me major was Journalism. And in one class, the Prof read my foray into the infantile to the class.
However, as chronicled in earlier forays, my English Lit teacher, who loved to hear himself talk, said there were no Hemmingway's in his class. What an inspirational forker he was. And he was no John F. Kennedy, er, Benny Hinn.
Perhaps I could have gotten a job in my "field." And wrote forays for a living. But, alas, it wasn't in the { tarot ] cards. My destiny, it seems, was to "wallow," er, prosper in the exciting world of food bizdom. Where every day is an exercise in passive aggressive containment.
In addition to stilted sentences, I learned about split infinitives; the who, what, when, where, why of grabbing the big story; & how to pronounce words like salmon, longevity, and quandary. And for two bits [ circa 1925 ] you can get a haircut.
In closing, here's to stilted sentences and split infinitives, v.c. To boldly go where no other....
P.S. Kitty, now an avid reader of the Pond, told me this week that my writings on said URL have been diminishing as of late. She is right per usual, and perhaps she has inspired me to once again find my mojo. Apologies to Manfred Mann, they of the "Got My Mojo Working, But It Don't Work On You" fame, and Austin Powers.
P.S.S. "Mojo" from Manfred circa 1964. And for a congratulatory song to Amber and Bone, here's tonite's youtube special. Per usual, click here, s'il vous plait.
My niece, Amber, had her baby today. Congratulations are in order. And to "Bone," her enigmatic hubby, as well.
The pregnancy was her second, but this one was difficult, as Amber was on "bedrest" a few moons ago. Due to a miracle, her placenta moved, so she had her l'il one just a coppola weeks shy of the due date.
My sister, the enigmatic Olga, went to Mount Shasta to pray for her daughter's safety. Shortly afterwards, her prayers were answered.
The new arrival is a girl. Daddy Bone badly wanted wanted a boy, but, alas, it wasn't in the [ tarot ] cards. Her name has been determined-as of this writing-and she will be known as "Summer Sky." An old saying comes to mind from back in the day. "Far out!"
What happened to the traditional names like Linda, Charlene, Debbie, Shirley, and Sally? Seems Bone and Amber bypassed the newer hip names like Brittney, Caitlin, Demi, and well, er, uh, Olga by thinking "outside the box." If I had been aware of their wishes for an oddball, er, unusual name, I could have helped out. My suggestions: [ as if anybody asked? ]
1) Winter Solstice
2) Spring Forward
3) Fall Back
4) Autumn Leaves
5) Global Warming
6) Red Sky in Morning Sailors Take Warning
7) Blue Sky at Night Sailors Delight
8) Moon River
9) Summer Solstice
10) International Dateline
11) v.c.
Congrats, v.c.
P.S. And whatever happened to naming yer kids with initials?
a) L.B.
b) J.D.
c) I.C.B.M
d) J.R.
e) O.J.
f) v.c.
g) E.T.C.
As time trudges onward and my hair has been redirected from the top of my head to my ears, it dawns on me that yours truly is getting older. And older. And older. Lucy, what happened?
It's so bad that I am finding senior citizen jokes amusing. Ergo:Hard of Hearing
Morris, an 82-year-old man, went to the doctor to get a physical.
A few days later the doctor saw Morris walking down the street with a gorgeous young lady on his arm.
A couple of days later, the doctor spoke to Morris and said, "You're really doing great, aren't you?"
Morris replied, "Just doing what you said, Doctor, 'Get a hot mamma and be cheerful.'"
The doctor said, "I didn't say that. I said you got a heart mummer and be careful."Ergo II:Hard of Hearing
An old man decided his old wife was getting hard of hearing. So he called her doctor to make an appointment to have her hearing checked. The doctor said he could see her in two weeks, and meanwhile there's a simple, informal test the husband could do to give the doctor some idea of the dimensions of the problem.
"Here's what you do. Start about 40 feet away from her, and speak in a normal onversational tone and see if she hears you. If not, go to 30 feet, then 20 feet, and so on until you get a response."
So that evening she's in the kitchen cooking dinner, and he's in the living room, and he says to himself, "I'm about 40 feet away, let's see what happens."
"Honey, what's for supper?"
No response.
So he moves to the other end of the room, about 30 feet away. "Honey, what's for supper?"
No response.
So he moves into the dining room, about 20 feet away. "Honey, what's for supper?"
No response.
On to the kitchen door, only 10 feet away. "Honey, what's for supper?".
No response.
So he walks right up behind her. "Honey, what's for supper?"
"For the fifth time, CHICKEN!"Ergo III: The Long-Lived Golfer
An 80-year-old man went to the doctor for a checkup and the doctor was amazed at what good shape the guy was in. The doctor asked, "To what do you attribute your good health?"
The old-timer said, "I'm a golfer and that's why I'm in such good shape. I'm up well before daylight and out golfing up and down the fairways."
The doctor said, "Well, I'm sure that helps, but there's got to be more to it. How old was your dad when he died?"
The old-timer said, "Who said my dad's dead?"
The doctor said, "You mean you're 80 years old and your dad's still alive? How old is he?"
The old timer said, "He's 100 years old and, in fact, he golfed with me this morning, and that's why he's still alive ... he's a golfer."
The doctor said, "Well, that's great, but I'm sure there's more to it. How about your dad's dad? How old was he when he died?"
The old timer said, "Who said my grandpa's dead?"
The doctor said, "You mean you're 80 years old and your grandfather's still living! How old is he?"
The old timer said, "He's 118 years old."
The doctor was getting frustrated at this point and said, "I guess he went golfing with you this morning too?"
The old-timer said, "No...Grandpa couldn't go this morning because he got married."
The Doctor said in amazement, "Got married!! Why would a 118-year-old guy want to get married?"
The old-timer said, "Who said he wanted to?"Lastly:Oh, the pity of old age.
When I went to lunch today, I noticed an old man sitting on a park bench sobbing his eyes out. I stopped and asked him what was wrong. He said, "I have a 22 year old wife at home. She makes love to me every morning and then gets up and makes me pancakes, sausage, fresh fruit and freshly ground coffee."
I said, "Well, then why are you crying?"
He said, "She makes me homemade soup for lunch and my favorite brownies and then makes love to me for half the afternoon."
I said, "Well, why are you crying?"
He said, "For dinner she makes me a gourmet meal with wine and my favorite dessert and then makes love to me until 2:00 a.m."
I said, "Well, why in the world would you be crying?"
He said, "I can't remember where I live!"When I'm 64, v.c.
