It's late August and September is nipping at our heels. Heat is still hanging around, making sure we really appreciate the coolness when it comes. School is back in session, and class reunions are being planned and discussed.
Radio was a necessity in our lives back then. What I miss most about those radio days is that we could listen and get such a variety of musical styles then. Now it all seems segmented. If you want a genre, you turn to that on the dial (or however you're listening now) and that's all you get.
Does anyone else miss the musical mixings that used to be so common. I remember listening in one afternoon to songs from the Everly Brothers (Bye Bye Love) and the Platters (The Great Pretenders); Pat Boone (Love Letters in the Sand) and Chuck Berry (Maybellene) or Little Richard (Tutti Frutti).
One moment you could be listening to the Kingston Trio (Tom Dooley), then maybe hear Bobby Darin (Mack the Knife) followed by Carl Perkins (Blue Suede Shoes) with a follow-up from Johnny Cash (Folsom Prison Blues).
People liked humor in their songs then, for sure. Remember David Seville (Witch Doctor) and Sheb Wooley (Purple People Eater)? And of course Del Reeves had a popular song (Girl on the Billboard).
Looking back, I think what I most appreciate about our radio days is the lack of vulgarity. Oh yes, we had suggestive lyrics and aggressive love songs, but the writers knew then they could not get by with graphic semi-porn. They had to rely on talent, and they had to appeal to a sense of humor a bit (okay, maybe not too much, but at least a little) higher than early adolescence. Sure we had the Everly Brothers singing about "Wake Up Little Susie," but at least they put limits on where the story line went. (Sorry about that. Just had a I've Got to Rant moment. But it has now passed.)
Enjoy the rest of summer. Sit back, relax and take a sip of some good sweet iced tea.
Thursday, August 28, 2014
Monday, August 18, 2014
One Cool-Thinking Kid
Hot summer days have often left us wanting something to partake of that would cool us off and slow us down to enjoy the lazy passing of time. That's not something new to us or our generations. It's been going on since the beginning of time, I'm sure.
Wealthy Romans would have ice carted from the mountains down to the villages, and the ice would be mixed with fruit bits and fruit juice to give them a form of snow cone. History tells us they weren't alone. Similar practices were showing up in China, India, and the Arabian peninsula. And as we can all attest, these shaved ice confections can sure hit the spot.
But it wasn't until 1905 in San Francisco, California, that an accidental discovery lead to a treat still popular today with kids of all ages. Eleven year old Frank Epperson had some powdered soda mixed up, using a wooden stick to stir the concoction. He left some of the stuff out on the porch overnight. When he arose the next morning, there was his treat, still there, but now frozen onto the stick.
Now Frank wasn't a dense lad. The next summer he was selling his treat to the neighborhood kids. But it wasn't until 1923 at the Neptune Beach amusement park in Alameda, California, that he had a good commercial business going. The next year he applied for and got a patent for his Episicle, which soon were a big hit. He soon changed the name of the treat to "Popsicle," and it is still widely eaten by folks everywhere.
Frank didn't enjoy the profits from his "invention" long, however. In 1925 he sold his patent to another company to pay off creditors. The Popsicle today is still the Popsicle, although the varieties have grown in number and taste. But it still hits the spot on a hot summer day when you need something light and refreshing to consume while relaxing, indoors or out. I don't know that Frank invented anything else,, but he did leave us all a cool taste treat we can eat just about any time of year,
Thanks, Frank.
Wealthy Romans would have ice carted from the mountains down to the villages, and the ice would be mixed with fruit bits and fruit juice to give them a form of snow cone. History tells us they weren't alone. Similar practices were showing up in China, India, and the Arabian peninsula. And as we can all attest, these shaved ice confections can sure hit the spot.
But it wasn't until 1905 in San Francisco, California, that an accidental discovery lead to a treat still popular today with kids of all ages. Eleven year old Frank Epperson had some powdered soda mixed up, using a wooden stick to stir the concoction. He left some of the stuff out on the porch overnight. When he arose the next morning, there was his treat, still there, but now frozen onto the stick.
Now Frank wasn't a dense lad. The next summer he was selling his treat to the neighborhood kids. But it wasn't until 1923 at the Neptune Beach amusement park in Alameda, California, that he had a good commercial business going. The next year he applied for and got a patent for his Episicle, which soon were a big hit. He soon changed the name of the treat to "Popsicle," and it is still widely eaten by folks everywhere.
Frank didn't enjoy the profits from his "invention" long, however. In 1925 he sold his patent to another company to pay off creditors. The Popsicle today is still the Popsicle, although the varieties have grown in number and taste. But it still hits the spot on a hot summer day when you need something light and refreshing to consume while relaxing, indoors or out. I don't know that Frank invented anything else,, but he did leave us all a cool taste treat we can eat just about any time of year,
Thanks, Frank.
Thursday, August 14, 2014
A Little Life Music
Sometimes something happens and I have no choice but to put the situation to music. So there is truth to some of this ditty, but there is also imagination working into the song. I envisioned the thing set to a light-hearted march. I do hope you enjoy.
PROPOSITION MRS. K
I was walking down the street, enjoying the sun
Having a good time, looking for fun
When a man walked up, stopped me on the street
Called me by my name and he looked so sweet
Cho: I've got a proposition for you, Mrs. K
Would you like to make some money today?
It could be fun, it could be swell,
Take your time and think it over well.
Well my blood's not blue and madam's not my name
But I'm always ready for a new game
So I listened to what the man had to say
Cause money talks and I can use some today.
He put thoughts of jewelry inside my head,
A life of luxury on a silken bed
With diamonds and a jacket of mink
It might be fun, now what do you think?
Repeat chorus
He pointed to a shop on the street
Said I sell shoes to put upon your feet
You look like you could sell a shoe or two
I need some help, yes, you might do.
Well, I dropped my jaw and my ego hit the floor
And I'm not walking a so tall any more.
I thought he saw me as a sexy turtle-dove
But he wanted me to work and not to love.
Cho: He had a proposition for this Mrs. K
He wanted me to sell some shoes today.
Now that's not fun and it's sure not swell
I thought it over, and I can tell him -
Well!!!
PROPOSITION MRS. K
I was walking down the street, enjoying the sun
Having a good time, looking for fun
When a man walked up, stopped me on the street
Called me by my name and he looked so sweet
Cho: I've got a proposition for you, Mrs. K
Would you like to make some money today?
It could be fun, it could be swell,
Take your time and think it over well.
Well my blood's not blue and madam's not my name
But I'm always ready for a new game
So I listened to what the man had to say
Cause money talks and I can use some today.
He put thoughts of jewelry inside my head,
A life of luxury on a silken bed
With diamonds and a jacket of mink
It might be fun, now what do you think?
Repeat chorus
He pointed to a shop on the street
Said I sell shoes to put upon your feet
You look like you could sell a shoe or two
I need some help, yes, you might do.
Well, I dropped my jaw and my ego hit the floor
And I'm not walking a so tall any more.
I thought he saw me as a sexy turtle-dove
But he wanted me to work and not to love.
Cho: He had a proposition for this Mrs. K
He wanted me to sell some shoes today.
Now that's not fun and it's sure not swell
I thought it over, and I can tell him -
Well!!!
Monday, August 11, 2014
Putting Shoes on My Barefeet
Some days it's hard to make a choice. Do I go barefoot, or do I decide which shoes to wear? It isn't always an easy choice, for I am naturally a barefoot gal. I like this thought by Michael Franti:
You learn a lot when you go barefoot. The first thing is that every step you take
is different.
There must be others with these thoughts. K.D. Lang sings "Barefoot." Harry Chapin recorded "Barefoot Boy." Jake Owens sings about "Barefoot Blue Jean Night." I can relate to all of these.
However, shoes and boots have turned up more often in the musical world. And the songs often skew more to a life with a beat. Remember when Nancy Sinatra sang about "These Boots Were Made for Walking?" And Shania Twain had a later hit with her song, "Whose Bed Have Your Boots Been Under?"
An earlier song was Dodie Stevens singing about "Tan Shoes and Pink Shoelaces." And we can't forget Carl Perkins song (also recorded by Elvis Presley) titled "Blue Suede Shoes." Of course you can go way back to get a listen to Red Foley singing about "Chattanoogie Shoe Shine Boy."
Another thought I like is one by Amy Adams: I like Cinderella, I really do. She has a good work ethic. I appreciate a good, hard working gal. And she likes shoes. The fairy tale is all about the shoes at the end and I'm a big shoe girl.
But let's not let ourselves get carried away with all this talk about shoes. Charles Barkley sums it up pretty well when he said: These are my new shoes. They're good shoes. They won't make you rich like me, they won't make you rebound like me, they definitely won't make you handsome like me. They'll only make you have shoes like me. That's it.
And we'll close with the immortal words of Phyllis Diller: You know you're old when someone compliments you on your alligator shoes, and you're barefoot.
We'll talk again later. But remember, watch where you put those feet, especially if you are barefoot at the time.
You learn a lot when you go barefoot. The first thing is that every step you take
is different.
There must be others with these thoughts. K.D. Lang sings "Barefoot." Harry Chapin recorded "Barefoot Boy." Jake Owens sings about "Barefoot Blue Jean Night." I can relate to all of these.
However, shoes and boots have turned up more often in the musical world. And the songs often skew more to a life with a beat. Remember when Nancy Sinatra sang about "These Boots Were Made for Walking?" And Shania Twain had a later hit with her song, "Whose Bed Have Your Boots Been Under?"
An earlier song was Dodie Stevens singing about "Tan Shoes and Pink Shoelaces." And we can't forget Carl Perkins song (also recorded by Elvis Presley) titled "Blue Suede Shoes." Of course you can go way back to get a listen to Red Foley singing about "Chattanoogie Shoe Shine Boy."
Another thought I like is one by Amy Adams: I like Cinderella, I really do. She has a good work ethic. I appreciate a good, hard working gal. And she likes shoes. The fairy tale is all about the shoes at the end and I'm a big shoe girl.
But let's not let ourselves get carried away with all this talk about shoes. Charles Barkley sums it up pretty well when he said: These are my new shoes. They're good shoes. They won't make you rich like me, they won't make you rebound like me, they definitely won't make you handsome like me. They'll only make you have shoes like me. That's it.
And we'll close with the immortal words of Phyllis Diller: You know you're old when someone compliments you on your alligator shoes, and you're barefoot.
We'll talk again later. But remember, watch where you put those feet, especially if you are barefoot at the time.
Monday, August 4, 2014
The Freedom of Failure
In yesterday's Arkansas Democrat Gazette I read an article by Stephen Marche: Failure is the muse of writers. Over the years I had read a lot of things denoting the downside of being a writer. He did a good job encapsulating them in an interesting article.
I have also noticed the ascendancy of entrepreneurs in making note of the times they fail over many different enterprises. I'm sure you've heard the adage: The only one who don't fail are those who never try. And I do agree somewhat with the thought.
Marche points out that all those folks are really wannabes in the failure world. The top of the heap in coping with the knowledge of failure are all the writers in the world. Failure is built into the job description from the very get-go. He (and others) have pointed out that there are over 300,000 books published every year in the United States. Anyone can figure out that the vast majority will never make it to any best seller list anywhere. And of those who do achieve some modicum of success, there is always the thought it will not be repeated.
So, why write? I'm sure there are as many reasons for that as there are writers. But everybody's got to do something. Some write and make a decent living at it. They would most likely include those who have found a way into the world of professional writers in all the various forms - entertainment, journalism (although sometimes there is little difference between some of them), advertisers, editors, promoters.
I can only speak for myself. I write because I just can't see not writing. I like to write fiction. I write to entertain and try to bring a bit of quirky humor to a story line. I didn't try to write for way too many years, because I really didn't have confidence in myself and worried about the resultant criticism that would surely follow. But over the years, I would jot down story ideas or produce short stories.
Then came the time life lassoed my freedom and I wound up in an ever more restricting environment due to circumstances well beyond my control with no foreseeable end in sight. No, I didn't wind up in jail. But you make choices in life in how you deal with the vagaries of aging and with family members facing horrible challenges. I found for myself the best way to deal with this was to write.
I can write whenever I need to escape yet stay in place. I can write as often as I find time or let it go whenever I can't focus on the words or plot or characters. And I determined to self-publish because I face only the deadlines I impose on myself. I can't get out and market the work, but I can still get it out there. If God grants me time, marketing can come later. If not, oh well. There are still the occasional books sold and the very welcome odd bits of comments on the work.
I relish these comments, whether from family, friends or complete strangers. I like them whether they come from reviewers' comments, e-mail, snail mail or phone calls. And now as I do the finishing work in preparing my third novel, I still enjoy what I'm doing. How long will I do it? I have no idea.
As for all those thoughts of failure, I actually find a real freedom in the knowledge that is lurking out there just around the corner. Statistically, I have to fail. So what? In my mind I have achieved success because I have completed some real stories. From my viewpoint, any sales put me ahead of the game. Any positive feedback gives me moments of true joy. And I can look at the finished product and see real achievement rising from times of sadness and stress. I know that life has not gotten me down, that I can still have fun and find amusement somewhere in my mind that can relax me and push the devil back down into his dark place, alone.
What more can you ask from life's journey?
I have also noticed the ascendancy of entrepreneurs in making note of the times they fail over many different enterprises. I'm sure you've heard the adage: The only one who don't fail are those who never try. And I do agree somewhat with the thought.
Marche points out that all those folks are really wannabes in the failure world. The top of the heap in coping with the knowledge of failure are all the writers in the world. Failure is built into the job description from the very get-go. He (and others) have pointed out that there are over 300,000 books published every year in the United States. Anyone can figure out that the vast majority will never make it to any best seller list anywhere. And of those who do achieve some modicum of success, there is always the thought it will not be repeated.
So, why write? I'm sure there are as many reasons for that as there are writers. But everybody's got to do something. Some write and make a decent living at it. They would most likely include those who have found a way into the world of professional writers in all the various forms - entertainment, journalism (although sometimes there is little difference between some of them), advertisers, editors, promoters.
I can only speak for myself. I write because I just can't see not writing. I like to write fiction. I write to entertain and try to bring a bit of quirky humor to a story line. I didn't try to write for way too many years, because I really didn't have confidence in myself and worried about the resultant criticism that would surely follow. But over the years, I would jot down story ideas or produce short stories.
Then came the time life lassoed my freedom and I wound up in an ever more restricting environment due to circumstances well beyond my control with no foreseeable end in sight. No, I didn't wind up in jail. But you make choices in life in how you deal with the vagaries of aging and with family members facing horrible challenges. I found for myself the best way to deal with this was to write.
I can write whenever I need to escape yet stay in place. I can write as often as I find time or let it go whenever I can't focus on the words or plot or characters. And I determined to self-publish because I face only the deadlines I impose on myself. I can't get out and market the work, but I can still get it out there. If God grants me time, marketing can come later. If not, oh well. There are still the occasional books sold and the very welcome odd bits of comments on the work.
I relish these comments, whether from family, friends or complete strangers. I like them whether they come from reviewers' comments, e-mail, snail mail or phone calls. And now as I do the finishing work in preparing my third novel, I still enjoy what I'm doing. How long will I do it? I have no idea.
As for all those thoughts of failure, I actually find a real freedom in the knowledge that is lurking out there just around the corner. Statistically, I have to fail. So what? In my mind I have achieved success because I have completed some real stories. From my viewpoint, any sales put me ahead of the game. Any positive feedback gives me moments of true joy. And I can look at the finished product and see real achievement rising from times of sadness and stress. I know that life has not gotten me down, that I can still have fun and find amusement somewhere in my mind that can relax me and push the devil back down into his dark place, alone.
What more can you ask from life's journey?
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