Black Hole in B Flat

A hole dressed in black groans,
moans in b-flat for the man in black,
and with sad but welcoming arms,
embraces the artist,
his troubles, and his charms.

Hear him? Can't be too sad when you remember this song:

My daddy left home when I was three
And he didn't leave much to ma and me
Just this old guitar and an empty bottle of booze.
Now, I don't blame him cause he run and hid
But the meanest thing that he ever did
Was before he left, he went and named me "Sue."

Well, he must o' thought that is quite a joke
And it got a lot of laughs from a' lots of folk,
It seems I had to fight my whole life through.
Some gal would giggle and I'd get red
And some guy'd laugh and I'd bust his head,
I tell ya, life ain't easy for a boy named "Sue."

Well, I grew up quick and I grew up mean,
My fist got hard and my wits got keen,
I'd roam from town to town to hide my shame.
But I made a vow to the moon and stars
That I'd search the honky-tonks and bars
And kill that man who gave me that awful name.

Well, it was Gatlinburg in mid-July
And I just hit town and my throat was dry,
I thought I'd stop and have myself a brew.
At an old saloon on a street of mud,
There at a table, dealing stud,
Sat the dirty, mangy dog that named me "Sue."

Well, I knew that snake was my own sweet dad
From a worn-out picture that my mother'd had,
And I knew that scar on his cheek and his evil eye.
He was big and bent and gray and old,
And I looked at him and my blood ran cold
And I said: "My name is 'Sue!' How do you do!
Now your gonna die!!"

Well, I hit him hard right between the eyes
And he went down, but to my surprise,
He come up with a knife and cut off a piece of my ear.
But I busted a chair right across his teeth
And we crashed through the wall and into the street
Kicking and a' gouging in the mud and the blood and the beer.

I tell ya, I've fought tougher men
But I really can't remember when,
He kicked like a mule and he bit like a crocodile.
I heard him laugh and then I heard him cuss,
He went for his gun and I pulled mine first,
He stood there lookin' at me and I saw him smile.

And he said: "Son, this world is rough
And if a man's gonna make it, he's gotta be tough
And I knew I wouldn't be there to help ya along.
So I give ya that name and I said goodbye
I knew you'd have to get tough or die
And it's the name that helped to make you strong."

He said: "Now you just fought one hell of a fight
And I know you hate me, and you got the right
To kill me now, and I wouldn't blame you if you do.
But ya ought to thank me, before I die,
For the gravel in ya guts and the spit in ya eye
Cause I'm the son-of-a-bitch that named you "Sue.'"

I got all choked up and I threw down my gun
And I called him my pa, and he called me his son,
And I came away with a different point of view.
And I think about him, now and then,
Every time I try and every time I win,
And if I ever have a son, I think I'm gonna name him
Bill or George! Anything but Sue! I still hate that name!



Johnny Cash - A Boy Named Sue Lyrics

P.S. Cav, That was simplistically grand, a fitting epitaph for a legend.

I love Johnny Cash, and I'm not even a real country fan...the man crossed barriers in music, a true artist. Got him on the CD player now, actually.

another link for anyone interested in the 'science':

http://www.nature.com/nsu/030908/030908-14.html

Well, Bo. Glad to know that black hole didn't suck you in to our little whimsey. For you, in Bflat, of course.:

I knew a man Bo Jangles

And he'd dance for you

In worn out shoes



With silver hair and ragged shirt

And baggy pants

The old soft shoe



He jumped so high, jumped so high

Then he lightly touched down




Refrain:



Mr. Bo Jangles, Mr. Bo Jangles, Mr. Bo Jangles, danced





Met him in a cell in New Orleans

I was down and out

He looked at me with eyes of age

As he spoke right out



He talked of life, he talked of life

Then he jumped and clapped his hands.



Said his name Bo Jangles then he danced a lick

across the cell

Grabbed his pants for a better stance

Oh he jumped so high clicked his heels



Let go a laugh, let go a laugh

Shook back his hair all around



Refrain:



Said he danced for those at minstrel shows and county fairs

Throughout the south

Spoke through tears of fifteen years

How his dog 'n him travelled about



The dog up and died, he up and died

After twenty years he still grieves



Said he danced at every chance at honky-tonks

For drinks and tips

But most o' the time I spend behind these county bars

for drink a bit



Shook his head, and as he shook his head

I heard someone ask "Please"

by Bob Dylan

No no no, this is not by Bob Dylan. Jerry Jeff Walker penned Bojangles. But I can just about hear his voice in the tune.

er, Beedle. Guess I'd better check that out again. It was about Bill Robinson, no?

This much is true. It was the signature song of Jerry Jeff's repertoire. Jerry Jeff is a quiet wonder. He never had the radio hit on Bojangles, that went to somebody perhaps a little absurd, like Paul Anka or something... but Jerry Jeff, and his guitarist Dave Bromberg spread that tune far and wide across the land... one of the last of the quiet underground folk hits. Jerry still tours, mostly in the south and south west, coming out of Texas. A wonderful and warm performer,

Wow! After rechecking, here's what I found, but Jerry Jeff Walker was given credit for writing the song at another site.

http://www.lyricsdomain.com/lyrics/33318/

Perhaps the conflict lies in the singer vs. the writer.

I find this interesting, I looked up Bojangles and one link read:

Mr. Bojangles
Jerry Jeff Walker - also by Bob Dylan, Nina Simone, Sammy Davis jr, Robby Williams

As if the person who sings it should be attributed authorship. This is something I've encountered recently, particularly among younger folks. An example: I played one of my own tunes for someone, and she liked it. She asked what I had to do with it. I told her I wrote it. She asked me what exactly that meant... she suggested that if someone else sang it, then they could say they wrote it. She had no idea that any song had an author apart from the vocalist out front.

I never cease to wonder at the strange perceptions concerning creativity that have arisen in our copy and paste culture. I think of all those rap songs where the supposed author lifts the entire rhythm section of someone else's music then talks over it. Puff daddy was the most amazingly blatant.

Grumble grumble.... oh well, what is one to do? Keep on despite, I guess.

You're absolutely right, Beedle. I don't listen to rap, much, so I can't comment. There needs to be a distinction made between recorder and writer. When a twelve year old kid gets sued for copyright infringement, we begin to see the upshot of that legacy.

I'm not gonna even try to make this fit the thread, cause I made another amazing discovery. When you mentioned Nina Simmone, I thought of the song "Strange Fruit". Billy Holiday was credited with having written it; Nina Simone, I believe, is credited with it and here's what I found:

http://www.pbs.org/independentlens/strangefruit/film.html

Sheeeeeeeeze

...

Yes, I knew that about Strange Fruit. I guess it shows to go that this mixed perception has been with us for a while.

Here's how we make it fit the thread. What we have here is information loss. This is what happenes at the event horizon of a black hole... light and all other information falls in and cannot be recovered.

You see, there's always a way to fit thoughts together. (;?)

The sum of the parts is greater than the hole.

I surrender.

That Herchel comment is driving me mad. It came up in IRL conversation just a few days ago, but who the heck was it that I was talking to? We were talking about the black-out, Mars, telescopes ....... mull, mull, mull. Ahhhh, got it. The lawyer on Wednesday - somehow we got to Herchel in our lunch conversation. Funny that it's here as well.

Hi EhBeth.

Meanwhile the original link has morphed into something interesting. Have a look. Concern that the Galileo probe at Jupitor may crash into Callisto and contaminate its (possible/I think likely) biosphere with earthly bacteria. They've decided to terminate its mission by crashing it into Jupitor.

Interesting assumptions all around.

Never let it be said that these are not amazing times.

I can only wonder at the world in another century, God willing and worst instincts not prevail.