THE RAIN IN TWAIN FALLS MAINLY ON THE BRAIN

It is best to read the weather forecast before we pray for rain. –Mark Twain

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It’s funny — April is NATIONAL HUMOR MONTH, but soddenly I don’t feel very humorous. It’s coming down in buckets out there, and some of what’s in the buckets is making its way into my basement. I hope whoever’s praying for rain is satisfied — now how about praying for it to stop? It’s bad enough that Mother Nature keeps raining on my head when I go outside — I don’t need her to greet my feet as a dweller in my cellar when I go down in the dungeon.

‘s no use. No letup in sight. Keeps rainin’ all the time….

But am I going to let a reign of rain ruin what I’m doin’? No way! Others can be a Debbie Downer, despairing in the deluge. It’s in my Genes to be….

P.S. The title of this post is word play on a song from a hit 1956 Broadway musical later made into a movie starring Rex Harrison and Audrey Hepburn. Can you name the song?

 

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TALK ABOUT A SITE FOR SORE….FEET

Friends, if you neglected to take advantage of TAKE A WALK IN THE PARK DAY on March 30 (not to mention WALK AROUND THINGS DAY on April 4), you can still take steps to walk the walk today, which happens to be NATIONAL WALK TO WORK DAY (if you’ve already gone to work via a conveyance other than your feet, you have my permission to walk home FROM work. Why let a technicality stand in the way of exercising your rights….and lefts.

Obviously, those of us who are retired can’t walk to work, and those who work from home should have spent the night elsewhere in order to walk to work this morning, but it’s too late to do anything about that now (just don’t let it happen again).

Now, perhaps you think that three days dedicated to walking within a span of six days is going a bit too far, but let’s face it — without something that reminds you to get off your butt, you would probably just sit there all day working or (if you’re retired) blogging, neither of which is good for your heart. So do as I do:

OK, guess I’d better quit while I’m ahead, before we get the….

TAKE A WALK IN THE PARK DAY

March 30 is TAKE A WALK IN THE PARK DAY. Notwithstanding the condition of my feet (as you can understand from my March 20 FOOT TALK post), I thought I’d prepare ahead of the event by going for a walk on my post-erior, which is parked chair-side inside a blog somewhere in my PC, waiting to be liberated. So, let’s get a head start PDQ with a song befitting the occasion:

So you see, my fellow carcass parkers: as escapism goes, that really wasn’t so hard, was it? You might even say it was a walk in the park. Let’s keep it going with this humdinger:

Of course, if you’re a man’s-best-friend-lover, you wouldn’t think of taking a walk in the park without….

Speaking of walkin’ the dog, I’ll be doggone if I didn’t forget to bring along my pooper scooper — not to mention my dog. Wait a minute — I don’t own a dog. Nonetheless, my dogs are killing me, so it’s time to switch gears and leave the rest of the walking in park. When you gotta go, you gotta go. Like post-haste.

 

LIPS SERVICE

The title of today’s post is LIPS SERVICE — as distinguished from ROOM SERVICE — although I’m informed there are major hot-els and inns, both in-and-outside of iniquitous areas, where hot lips can be ordered (what one might call inn-clusive room service).

And then there’s Major Hot Lips Houlihan, which may be a stretch (what one might call post thematic stretch syndrome), but hopefully you can use the exercise as much as I can use the connection:

Coincidently (speaking of seeking hot lips), Robert HOOKER was the author of the novel MASH, on which the movie of that name (1970) and TV series M*A*S*H (1972-83) were based. HOOKER, born 2/1/1924, was the pen name of Korean War Army surgeon H. Robert Hornberger Jr. A very Happy upcoming Birthday to you, good sir, wherever you are.

Two years before “Hot Lips” creator Hooker was born, this red hot song was conceived by composer/orchestra leader Henry Busse:

So you see, friends, this post is not just paying lip service to LIPS SERVICE. This lips service is a hip service because it’s a ‘sound’ follow-up to last week’s THE KISSING POST. It’s in the groove. It’s on record.

Will my next post continue along the lines of this post and THE KISSING POST?

My lips are sealed.

 

 

 

THE KISSING POST

I am in favor of preserving the French habit of kissing ladies’ hands–after all, one must start somewhere. –Sacha Guitry, French actor, playwright and film maker

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The title of today’s post is THE KISSING POST– not to be confused with THE HITCHING POST, which would be a post about the ceremony of getting hitched (after kissing went to the hand-kisser’s head). Alternatively, THE HITCHING POST could be a post about a post to which you tether your horse….as opposed to your spouse (pardon my horse play).

Be that as it may, it may interest you to know that anthropologists believe kissing is a learned behavior. But they believe above all in science, so what competence could anthropologists possibly have in the field of kissing….with the likely exception of Parisian anthropologists, who are said to have French kissing down to an art….in the interest of science? C’est une bonne planque!*

Knowing that many of my readers are serious about science, you would no doubt like to know where I came up with what “it may interest you to know” — so, just so you know:

https://people.howstuffworks.com/kissing2.htm

As for the romantic barbarians among you, far be it from me to kiss you off. Kiss on!

*Nice work if you can get it!

I’LL MEET YOU AT THE OLD CAMP MEETING

It has been some time since I devoted a post to one of my passions, namely CLASSIC JAZZ, so what say we ramble on down to the old camp meeting and get some jazz religion? If you’re not a classic jazz lover, perhaps it’s because you’ve never been exposed or open to the sound of America’s own indigenous music, with its roots in late 19th century ragtime, gospel and blues, among other influences. So I’m making it my mission (and New Year’s resolution) to deliver you from that sin of omission in your musical faith upbringing.

One of the greatest pioneering jazzmen was New Orleans-born Joseph “King” Oliver, mentor of Louis Armstrong, who made a number of historic jazz records beginning in 1923, including CAMP MEETING BLUES. Here is the beginning of that primitive recording, which transitions beautifully (after 37 seconds) into the PERUNA JAZZMEN’s 1988 faithful-to-the-original rendering:

Next, we turn to an even more recent rendering of an even older Camp Meeting song:

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Our last Camp Meeting is a Swing era classic from another king, the King of Swing, Benny Goodman:

Now that you have seen the light, go and sin no more.

Amen.

Oh….and Happy New Year!

 

OH, THE JOY! OH, THE JOY!

“After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music.” –Aldous Huxley

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I consider myself to be both a lover of ‘adult’ music and a pretty fair writer, but I’ve never felt capable of being an authoritative writer about music. For example, when I listen to music that moves me, I’m at a loss for words to express why it does so — case in point, the joy of re-experiencing this clip which I’d posted once before (OH, THE JOY! on 7/21/15):

I’ve played this clip several times, and it draws me in every time. Why? Is it the power of the music, the build-up of the way it’s staged, my identification with the gathering crowd, especially the children, reacting like they can’t resist the allure of beckoning Christmas or birthday presents? Beats me.

Speaking of Christmas and birthdays, Dec. 16 is the birthday not only of ODE TO JOY composer LUDWIG VAN BEETHOVEN, but of another composer (as well as playwright, singer, actor, etc.) whose sophisticated songs are always like Christmas presents to my ears, NOEL COWARD. Here, from the 1933 Academy Award-winning best picture CAVALCADE, is one of my favorite Noel Coward songs:

But wait — there’s more! What’s more, I saved it more or less as the best(?) for last. I refer to none other than YOSEMITE SAM, who made his entrance into the world in STAGE DOOR CARTOON on Dec. 16, 1944. So, without further ado, I present for your listening pleasure, my man Sam performing a looney tune which is, without question, the most magnum opus of merry melodies since Ode To Joy (eat your heart out, Ludwig):

So, if you were born tomorrow (Dec. 16) and haven’t yet joined your birthday brothers in pursuing musical fame and fortune, I hope you will take note and give it a shot.

That’s all, folks!