THE WEIGH OF ALL FLESH

Word has it, the above title is a fey-tal play on the title of the satirical novel THE WAY OF ALL FLESH by Samuel Butler. The reason for such elfin impiety will become apparent down the line(s)….but first, a nod to the novel:

https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/22230/the-way-of-all-flesh-by-samuel-butler/

My previous post featured clips of the fab trad jazz band TUBA SKINNY, which, I was pleased to see, saw a number of approving comments in the aftermath — leading me to consider a followup post. But, for some, too many toots on the tuba may be too much of a good thing….so I’ve decided to go with an unbiased diet of Skinny sharing the dais with Fats.

You won’t find Tuba Skinny doing Fat and Greasy because it’s hard to put on weight if you drink nothing but Muddy Water,,,,

From Fat and Greasy by way of Muddy Water, the next venue on the menu is the Avita Springs (Louisiana) Busker Fest by way of the Big Easy (New Orleans):

How Do They Do It That Way? I hear that Fats knows:

By the way, if you didn’t like this post, it’s not my fault — the Butler did it.

TUBA OR NOT TUBA, THAT IS THE QUESTION OF THE DAY

As you now know, tomorrow (May 6) is INTERNATIONAL TUBA DAY, which was founded in 1979 by tuba player Joel Day because he felt that tubas and tuba players get no respect. You might say he was the Rodney Dangerfield of tuba players.

Now, you may think that this is a rather downbeat reason to found a Day. It’s possible the day wasn’t even lost. It’s even possible the reverse happened: Joel Day was lost and found by International Tuba in Aruba.

But whatever was missing, who am I to miss an opportunity to play Tuba Day for all it’s mirth (though I’m really not into heavy metal — haha). For example: Do you know how to fix a broken tuba? With a tuba glue — hahaha. And what can you possibly say to a bud who lost his tuba? That’s tubad — tubahahaha.

I could go on in this wayward way all day, but what do you say we get wordplay out of the way and play some music? Let the Four Winds Blow New Orleans way!

Now that’s what I call doin’ what you love and lovin’ what you do. Needless to say, I love it! I guess I’m just a Sweet Lovin’ Old Soul at heart….

In closing, I propose we hold this tuba tribute to be vital by squeezing in a song that actually has TUBA fitting in the title:

THE DUKE AND ALL THAT JAZZ

Today is INTERNATIONAL JAZZ DAY. It was established by UNESCO April 30, 2011, to celebrate jazz and extol its role in connecting people around the world. IMHO, UNESCO was ostensibly a day late and an ‘honor’ short in this endeavor, because jazz great Duke Ellington (one of relatively few who are the very personification of jazz in music history) was born April 29, 1899 — near the year jazz itself was born. It blows my mind that UNESCO didn’t take advantage of the symbolism of creating I. J. Day in concert with Ellington’s birthday one day earlier. Apparently, they thought it’s not their fault that the Duke Arrived into the world on his own timetable.

Warren W. Vaché Sr., founder of the American Federation of Jazz Societies and co-founder of the American Jazz Hall of Fame, called Ellington “an unquestioned giant in American music; he had a long and influential career that covered all facets of the art. He was an excellent pianist, a superb arranger, a personable and colorful bandleader, and a highly original composer. For the most part, Ellington wrote his music with the orchestra in mind, often composing pieces designed to showcase the great individual soloists in the band who made the Ellington Orchestra far superior to the average dance band. He was a master of moods, spanning everything from rhythm numbers to soulful tone poems.”

Speaking of “moods” music, it doesn’t get much better than this Ellington classic:

One of my favorite Ellington compositions is this standard, performed here by one of the most popular vocal groups of the 1940s:

I too, at my age, don’t get around much anymore. But as long as I can dig The Duke, I’m still on the right track.

PARDON MY JARGON

“I am paid by the word, so I always write the shortest words possible.” –Bertrand Russell

Unlike Bertie, I’m sorry to say, I am not paid by the word, so why shortchange myself? In fact, I fancy that I usually command an above average vocabulary, so why not use it? However, I must confess that it’s not….it’s not…..

….for me to come upon an infuriatingly unfamiliar word from time to time. On such occasions — usually when ensconced on my La-z-boy reading a book — I pick up the humongous dictionary ensconced within reach to look up the offending word (unless, of course, I’m feeling lazy….or poorly).

For example, just yesterday, as it were, I was thus ensconced, immersed in a weighty book about something or other (and minding my own business, mind you), when I was assaulted by a word I’d never heard…..or, as they say in Brooklyn, a woid I’d never hoid.

Bolus was the word, and though it sounds absurd, I gave the word the bird and tried to deduce what it inferred from the context wherein conferred. Failing miserably, I gave in and looked it up….which I suggest you do if you’re curious enough, because why should I go to all that work and then give you its meaning for nothing? The nerve of some people!

OK, maybe I got a bit carried away. Sorry about that. Bolus comes from the Greek BÔLOS, lump of earth; English definition, a small round mass. You never know when this word might come in handy, so to remember it, just think of bs with olu in the middle, and you’ve got it made in the shade….or wherever fine word association is sold.

And with that, I thank you for your very kind attention (it’s only good etiquette).

THERE’S NO BUSINESS LIKE KNOW BUSINESS

When I was a lad, my favorite mystery program on (pre-TV) radio was THE SHADOW (1937-54). Each program’s point of departure was this ominous-sounding voice intoning what may now come across as pure ‘camp’, but was riveting melodrama to an impressionable young boy back then:

Even today, when my old lady and I are (for example) watching TV and wondering why some politician is asserting absurdities beyond belief, one of us might exclaim “WTF” (or words to that effect), and the other will shrug and respond, “Only The Shadow knows.“

Without the shadow of a doubt, most of us know that ignorance is invincible — which explains why the willfully ignorant are impervious to self-growth/thinking outside the box of confined minds. So, far be it from me to even try to change minds. But I can try to interest the interested — and stimulate the educated — with some knowing quotes and clips:

“Where there is shouting, there is no true knowledge.” –Leonardo da Vinci
“It is better to know nothing than to know what ain’t so.” –Josh Billings
“It is a great nuisance that knowledge can only be acquired by hard work.” –Somerset Maugham

“The man who thinks he knows everything always irritates those of us who do. –Evan Esar
“I am not young enough to know everything.” –James M. Barrie
“If you think education is expensive, try ignorance.” –Derek Bok

Just so you know, I have a rather full plate today, so there may be a bit of a delay responding to comments.

SHAME! SHAME!

At first, I thought of titling this post THINGS THAT HAVE NO SHAME. Then I remembered, when last we met (April 12), I proclaimed that that post was the end of my THING FLING series (at least, title-wise). As my faithful readers know, I never lie (much). Thus, the working title is gone, but the idea is not verboten.

When we think of Things That Have No Shame, most of us probably think of animals which poop and pee like you and me but phoo-phoo tp and feel free to let it be for all to see. But while wee humans do do the two as babies, it would never do to pee and poo in public view after we knew that grownup people eschew not using the loo in lieu of spewing phew like much ado about nothing, which they would rue.

But that’s not the kind of shameless spewing that makes me stew. I had in mind so-called grownups who have absolutely no shame, as if not even knowing the meaning of the word….such as Donald Pinocchio Trump, whose first (and apparently only) language is LYING, and whose greatest talent is shamelessly repeating lies so often that millions of followers take him at his turd….er, word (whatever — same thing).

And so it is to The Master of Ballanbetray (with apologies to Robert Louis Stevenson’s The Master of Ballantrae) that I defecate….er, dedicate….this post and song. I would’ve held this post off until the Pinocchio man’s birthday (two months from today) to smellebrate, but I can’t hold my nose that long.

THINGS ARE LOOKING UP….

….and no, it’s not because this is the last of my “Thing Fling” posts (though that might be reason enough if this fling hasn’t been your thing), but because I’m ending on a “Things Are Looking Up” note — starting with this glorious Gershwin song from perhaps the most underrated (and one of my favorite) Fred Astaire films, DAMSEL IN DISTRESS (1937):

Continuing our optimistic take on things,
When this song*, a Pollyanna sings,
I’m not so sure that I agree….
But when two lovers do it,
I confess: Who am I to rue it?
I guess The Best Things In Life Are Free!

*from the 1925 musical GOOD NEWS!

Romantically saving (one of) “The Best Things” for last,
I end this Thing Fling with another blast from the past:

IT’S A WHOLE NEW THING

Just when you thought my THING fling was done,
I’ve managed to come up with another one.
You may think I’m testing your forbearance when I bring
You more same old same old…but It’s A Whole New Thing.

It’s not as if I had been planning this all along —
It was Just One Of Those Things (like the song):

Speaking of flings that just naturally happen,
Beware this thing that may catch thee nappin’:

I’d love to continue, but that about does it.
This Thing wasn’t on my venue….or was it?

ANYTHING

Looking back over my many post titles since March 16, I note that I’ve published pieces about NOTHING, SOMETHING and EVERYTHING….making it hard to believe ANYTHING (has been overlooked). But it seems that ANYTHING (of all things) was overlooked….so, before moving on to other things, it behooves me to do ANYTHING to make up for it — starting with giving Anything a little (Oliver) Twist to get things rolling.

Almost the same title, different — and earlier — song: (note Fats Waller doing his thing on the ivories a little past half way through):

The next presentation reminds me of what two campaining political candidates might sing to each other if they could shoot their mouths off in song:

And with that, I can’t think of anything more — but anything can happen, and if it does, I don’t want anything to do with it.

MORE OF EVERYTHING

The more I thought about a sequel to EVERYTHING (my previous post), the more I wondered how much more of everything a heavenly body can take. Not that our put-upon planet was ever a bed of roses (I’m old enough that you can take my word for it), but now I’d be lying like a politician if I claimed that

Yes, the world has its moments. Nonetheless, the world isn’t a very congenial place to live at this moment, and it’s a wonder that it hasn’t gone off the deep end — or at least had a nervous breakdown. It wouldn’t surprise me one bit to hear that the world is seeing a shrink and lamenting….

It would really be nice to be able to believe that….

But….