A CONSOLATION OF STARS

What with all the problems in this crazy world of ours, my fellow earthlings, is there consolation in knowing that my previously-posted problems don’t amount to a proverbial hill of beans by comparison? After all, everyone in Casablanca has problems — mine may work out:

In fact, I think mine will work out — help is on the way (by beautiful way of my tech-angel daughter) on Father’s Day. But until then, I’ll seek my consolation in the Stardust of a song (or two):

If we could clear the dust from our eyes, friends, aren’t we all more or less lost in the stars? Maybe most of us just don’t see it: little stars, BIG STARS, blowing through the night….and we’re lost out here in the stars….

 

AT WIT’S END

I don’t know how you spell FRUSTRATION, but I spell it W-O-R-D-P-R-E-S-S. To paraphrase Elizabeth Barrett Browning,

How do I detest thee? Let me count the ways….

But counting the ways would take time I don’t have, thanks to all the time-consuming problems I do have with WordPress (especially recently). Suffice it to say that if there’s no improvement when the new WordPress Block Editor kicks in June 1, I’ll be considering my options — ranging from giving up blogging completely, to seeking another venue more user-friendly to a tech-tyro like me.

In other words….

As the God of WordPress is my wit-ness, I ask you….

LIKE, WHAT’S NOT TO LIKE?

I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I haven’t liked your posts since about this time yesterday. I haven’t liked them, not because I haven’t liked them, but because I haven’t been able to Like them. All I get where one normally clicks “Like” is “Loading” — and as much as I’d like it to stop Loading, it doesn’t. I can still comment, but if I commented on all the posts I like but can’t Like, I’d spend my whole day writing comments….which isn’t likely, because I also like to eat, sleep, and be merry. So, since I can’t Like you on your posts, I’ll LIKE you musically here.

Speaking of being merry, today is the birthday (May 21, 1904) of Thomas “Fats” Waller, who was about the merry-makingest singer/songwriter/pianist I know. Here he at the piano with such fellow jazz greats as Jack Teagarden and Gene Krupa playing his own composition I NEED SOMEONE LIKE YOU:

There’s more “Like” songs where that came from. Here is the First Lady of Song/Queen of Jazz singing a ballad like only she can:

I’d like to close with something high class, like this:

 

MAY DAYS

What do you say — may I interest you in the music of May? You see, I haven’t posted for a spell, but I don’t think I want to disturb a single brain cell — though I fear somewhere in my sphere the strain’s already rung a bell, as near I can tell. So, before I go too far, let’s get to the tunes, most of which may be before your time….but at least you won’t have to suffer (much) more of my rhyme.

I’ll start with two versions of my favorite May song, the first sung by the great Mel Tormé:

This second (and earlier) version is by British crooner Al Bowlly, who was tragically killed in a German air raid on London during WW II:

Now, let’s see — where are we? Oh, yes — we’re….

Let us say ‘fini’ appropriately:

PHILOSPHER STONED

If there’s one thing I think we can all agree on about Donald Trump, it’s that he isn’t a philosopher. If, however, he can be said to have one guiding precept remotely resembling a philosophy, it has to be IT’S ALL ABOUT ME….or, secondarily, DON’T BLAME ME (which happens to be the title of a song I was going to link here until — faster than you can say Niccollo Machiavelli — Google removed share, embed & copy from their music clips, leaving technologically-challenged mistermuse at a loss as to how to post them).

Be that as it may, I got to thinking that if THE DONALD were a lit-wit (rather than a nitwit) who wished to appear philosophical, there must be any number of wise philosophical quotes he might plagiarize to his greater glory (or, if he were stoned, learn from). Here are some I drug up which could fill the (Duck’s) bill:

There is nothing so absurd that it cannot be believed if repeated often enough. — William James, American philosopher

Philosophy teaches us to bear with equanimity the misfortunes of others. –Oscar Wilde, Irish wit, poet and playwright

Any man can be a philosopher if he only thinks enough about his own foolishness. –Edgar Watson Howe, American novelist and editor

Philosophers have only interpreted the world. The point, however, is to change it. –Karl Marx, German philosopher, political theorist and socialist revolutionary

If I killed everyone who was stupid, I wouldn’t have time to sleep. –Tamora Pierce, American fantasy fiction writer

Wise men speak because they have something to say; fools, because they have to say something. –Plato, Greek philosopher

Always recognize that human individuals are ends, and do not use them as means to your end. — Immanuel Kant, German philosopher

Philosophers before Kant had a tremendous advantage over philosophers after Kant, in that they didn’t have to spend years studying Kant.  –Bertrand Russell, British philosopher, writer and social critic

Only one philosopher in history had a perfect alibi for doing nothing, and his name was I. Kant. –Evan Esar, American humorist

THE INDISPENSABLE (OLD) MAN

“It’s possible there will be some [deaths as a result of reopening the country now].” –President Donald Trump in response to ABC’s David Muir on May 5, 2020.

• * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

In 1963, President John F. Kennedy proclaimed May as Senior Citizens Month (changed in 1965 to OLDER AMERICANS MONTH). Judging by Trump’s desperation to get the economy humming again before the election — and before the Covid-19 danger (especially to our most vulnerable citizens) is well under control — May seems destined to become Expendable Older Americans Month.

I dare say that, although Trump may consider his fellow senior Americans like Joe Biden, mistermuse, and (perhaps) you expendable, he doesn’t see himself in that category. After all, the country can ill afford to lose a stable genius at a time like this — or at any other time (such as November 3, 2020, for example).

Now, I hate to be the bearer of bad tidings to The Indispensable Man, but it’s just minutely possible that he may lose the upcoming election despite his stable pomposity — er, geniosity. However, in the unlikely event that that happens, His Stable Highness can take consolation in the fact that, like the rest of us put-out-to-pasture patriarchs, he can still be King (Emeritus) of his castle:

INTERNATIONAL JAZZ DAY

April 30 is INTERNATIONAL JAZZ DAY. Mistermuse could write a book about jazz, but many books have already been authored by jazz writers more authoritative than he, so mistermuse will settle for doing a post — and on this post, he has a chick who can sing a lick here, scat a lick there, wing a lick everywhere:

You may think that’s hotter than a chicken wing or a pig on a spit — but here’s a cat who can scat too, and when he blows his bugle, he’s even….

Is your computer smoking yet? We don’t want to alarm the Firehouse brigade, so before your pc bursts into a

….let’s do one number more and stop at four, because….

 

 

DYING FOR DOLLARS

Some of you may remember a long-running (1950s to early 1990s) TV program called DIALING FOR DOLLARS in which the host (after announcing the password(s) at the start of the show) randomly picked a phone number to call. If the person being called gave the password, he or she would win prize money; an incorrect answer would increase the prize money for the next call, and so on. Here’s SCTV’s take on the program:

Nowadays, it seems there’s a new game on TV:  a daily game in which the host is President/Scientific Genius Donald Trump, the password is nominally COVID-19, and the payoff is whatever he says it is in order to re-start the economy at any price — ranging from billions of dollars for big business and big banks, to ingesting disease-killing disinfectants. Regarding the latter, you may be tempted to say, “You first, Mr. President.” Too late! The next day, he said he was just kidding and didn’t mean it. Hahahahahahaha.

It’s Not Fake News: Trump Did Actually Suggest That Injecting Bleach Could Be a Cure for COVID-19

Sorry, Mr. Desperate President, the joke is on you, because you’re sicker than the sickest Covid-19 patient, and there’s no cure for your virulent virus except the resounding defeat you must suffer on Nov. 3.

TWO IN ONE

April 23 is both LOVER’S DAY and TAKE A CHANCE DAY. As it happens, one of my favorite composers wrote a song which encompasses both of those gambols/gambles in one title:

The name of that composer is Vladimir Dukelsky, better known to lovers (of The Golden Age of Popular Music) as VERNON DUKE, writer of such all-time standards as APRIL IN PARIS and AUTUMN IN NEW YORK. Here, in keeping with our ‘double take’ on this occasion, is one of his lesser known songs:

On this April day, I will keep our celebration short and bittersweet by closing with the above-noted ‘song of the month’:

HAIKU!….GESUNDHEIT!

Pardon me while I celebrate INTERNATIONAL HAIKU POETRY DAY. Haiku, as you know, is a three-line poem of 5, 7, and 5 syllables, which happens to total 17, which happens to be this day of the month, which happens to be INTERNATIONAL I-Already-Told-You-What DAY. So, here are a few lowbrow examples of haiku, guaranteed to ruin your appetite for haiku for the for-eatable future. If you have trouble swallowing any of these, feel free to wash it down with a swig of your favorite beverage, followed by a quart of milk of magnesia. If that doesn’t relieve your groan, you’re on your own.

ONE TOO MANY (syllables)

Excuses may be
easy to make…but they don’t
make up for your mistake.

A NEAR MYTH

Once upon a time
I tried to make a haiku
rhyme. Maybe next time.

HAIKU ON THE HUSTINGS

Politician beams,
waves to crowd of strange faces…
he’s been here before.

Had enough? Believe it or not, it could always be worse: