WA2K Radio is now on the air

Good morning WA2K listeners and contributors. It is a marvel to me what one may learn in various forums and among our vast audience. The biggest surprise that I had recently was that F. Scott Fitzgerald was a scion of Francis Scott Key. All Americans understand who he is, right?

Last evening when I ran to my favorite mom and pop stop, several of us discussed the profession of teaching. Interesting the various takes one gets from total strangers. Well, this isn't exactly related to that conversation, but let's play it anyway:

"Teachers"

I met a woman long ago
her hair the black that black can go,
Are you a teacher of the heart?
Soft she answered no.
I met a girl across the sea,
her hair the gold that gold can be,
Are you a teacher of the heart?
Yes, but not for thee.

I met a man who lost his mind
in some lost place I had to find,
follow me the wise man said,
but he walked behind.

I walked into a hospital
where none was sick and none was well,
when at night the nurses left
I could not walk at all.

Morning came and then came noon,
dinner time a scalpel blade
lay beside my silver spoon.

Some girls wander by mistake
into the mess that scalpels make.
Are you the teachers of my heart?
We teach old hearts to break.

One morning I woke up alone,
the hospital and the nurses gone.
Have I carved enough my Lord?
Child, you are a bone.

I ate and ate and ate,
no I did not miss a plate, well
How much do these suppers cost?
We'll take it out in hate.

I spent my hatred everyplace,
on every work on every face,
someone gave me wishes
and I wished for an embrace.

Several girls embraced me, then
I was embraced by men,
Is my passion perfect?
No, do it once again.

I was handsome I was strong,
I knew the words of every song.
Did my singing please you?
No, the words you sang were wrong.

Who is it whom I address,
who takes down what I confess?
Are you the teachers of my heart?
We teach old hearts to rest.

Oh teachers are my lessons done?
I cannot do another one.
They laughed and laughed and said, Well child,
are your lessons done?
are your lessons done?
are your lessons done?

Leonard Cohen was a very arcane composer, was he not?

Goodmorning Letty

You are up and awake so early in the morning?

Well, folks, there's Miss India. Hey, gal, nice to have you back again. Being up early is something that I have engrained in my system, and it is rather hard to shake at this point. Besides, dear. someone needs to open up our studio in the early morning. <smile> How are your classes going?

Good morning.

Wow. The list of celebrities born on this first day of July is a lengthy and impressive one indeed - directors, choreographer, writers, a princess, et al.
Here are some of the movie stars.

Good midmorning to you, Raggedy. Yes indeed there are a bunch of celebs born on this day. Well, my, my. There's Farley Granger, my older sister's heart throb. Didn't he star in a Hitchcock film?

Hmmm, PA. I recognize all but the women on my right. Well, I'm sure that our hawkman will be along soon and explain, but he may be on a brief 4th holiday.

Well, Miss India dropped in and made an observation about my early rising, then when I asked about her studies, off she went. Always puzzling to me, listeners.

For some reason this song came to mind, so I thought that I would give it a spin:

This version by The Platters

A rose must remain with the sun and the rain
Or its lovely promise won't come true
To each his own, to each his own
And my own is you

What good is a song if the words just don't belong?
And a dream must be a dream for two
No good alone, to each his own
For me there's you

CHORUS
If a flame is to grow there must be a glow
To open each door there's a key
I need you, I know, I can't let you go
Your touch means too much to me

Two lips must insist on two more to be kissed
Or they'll never know what love can do
To each his own, I've found my own
One and only you

REPEAT FROM CHORUS

Just in case Bob is enjoying the holiday:

First on the right is Leslie Caron - Lili;Gigi; An American in Paris, etc.

Then Liv Tyler - That Thing You Do and the Lord of the Rings movies and
Stealing Beauty, Armageddon and more.

and then Genevieve Bujold - (Born in Montreal, Canada) - Anne of the Thousand Days with Richard Burton; Coma; Earthquake, and more.

Farley Granger was in Hitchcock's The Rope and Strangers on a Train -and you might remember him as the ballet dancer's husband in the Little Mermaid scene in "Hans Christian Anderson" (Danny Kaye). He also played Harry Thaw in the Stanford White, Thaw, Evelyn Nesbit scandal in "The Girl in the Red Velvet Swing". Joan Collins was Nesbit and Ray Milland was architect Stanford White. And many more.

Raggedy, you have once again come through, PA. Didn't Genevieve Bujold also play in a movie that presented another version of Jack the Ripper? Murder by Decree, I think. If I'm not mistaken, The Rope had to do with Loeb and Leopold. I read the book Compulsion many years ago.

Well, folks. Watched a great Spacey movie last evening called The Negotiator. What a thriller and Samuel Jackon was excellent; however, I have never seen such a multifaceted man as Kevin Spacey.

How about a song out of nowhere, folks


FAITH NO MORE Song Lyrics

From Out Of Nowhere
(From the album "THE REAL THING")

Tossed into my mind, stirring the calm
You splash me with beauty and pull me down
You come from out of nowhere
My glance turns to a stare
Obsession rules me-I'm yours from the start
I know you see me-Our eyes interlock
You come from out of nowhere
My glance turns to a stare
One minute here and one minute there
Don't know if I'll laugh or cry
One minute here and one minute there
And then you wave good-bye...
Sifting to the bottom, every day for two
All energy funnels, all becomes you
You come from out of nowhere
My glance turns to a stare
One minute here and one minute there
Don't know if I'll laugh or cry
One minute here and one minute there
And it hurts inside
One minute here and one minute there
And then you wave good-bye...

Bowery Blues


The story of man
Makes me sick
Inside, outside,
I don't know why
Something so conditional
And all talk
Should hurt me so.

I am hurt
I am scared
I want to live
I want to die
I don't know
Where to turn
In the Void
And when
To cut
Out

For no Church told me
No Guru holds me
No advice
Just stone
Of New York
And on the cafeteria
We hear
The saxophone
O dead Ruby
Died of Shot
In Thirty Two,
Sounding like old times
And de bombed
Empty decapitated
Murder by the clock.

And I see Shadows
Dancing into Doom
In love, holding
TIght the lovely asses
Of the little girls
In love with sex
Showing themselves
In white undergarments
At elevated windows
Hoping for the Worst.

I can't take it
Anymore
If I can't hold
My little behind
To me in my room

Then it's goodbye
Sangsara
For me
Besides
Girls aren't as good
As they look
And Samadhi
Is better
Than you think
When it starts in
Hitting your head
In with Buzz
Of glittergold
Heaven's Angels
Wailing

Saying

We've been waiting for you
Since Morning, Jack
Why were you so long
Dallying in the sooty room?
This transcendental Brilliance
Is the better part
(of Nothingness
I sing)

Okay.
Quit.
Mad.
Stop.

Kerouac Jack

You Raise Me Up

When I am down and, oh my soul, so weary;
When troubles come and my heart burdened be;
Then, I am still and wait here in the silence,
Until you come and sit awhile with me.

You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains;
You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas;
I am strong, when I am on your shoulders;
You raise me up: To more than I can be.

You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains;
You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas;
I am strong, when I am on your shoulders;
You raise me up: To more than I can be.

There is no life - no life without its hunger;
Each restless heart beats so imperfectly;
But when you come and I am filled with wonder,
Sometimes, I think I glimpse eternity.

You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains;
You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas;
I am strong, when I am on your shoulders;
You raise me up: To more than I can be.

You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains;
You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas;
I am strong, when I am on your shoulders;
You raise me up: To more than I can be.

by Josh Groban

The Bargain Store

My life is like unto a bargain store
And I may have just what you're lookin' for
If you don't mind the fact that all the merchandise is used
But with a little mending it could be as good as new
Why you take for instance this old broken heart
If you will just replace the missing parts
You would be surprised to find how good it really is
Take it and you never will be sorry that you did

The bargain store is open come inside
You can easily afford the price
Love is all you need to purchase all the merchandise
And I will guarantee you'll be completely satisfied

Take these old used memories from the past
And these broken dreams and plans that didn't last
I'll trade them for a future, I can't use them anymore
I've wasted love but I still have some more

The bargain store is open come inside
You can easily afford the price
Love is all you need to purchase all the merchandise
And I can guarantee you'll be completely satisfied

My life is like unto a bargain store
And I may have just what you're lookin' for
If you don't mind the fact that all the merchandise is used
With a little mendin' it could be as good as new

The bargain store is open, come inside
The bargain store is open, come inside


Dolly Parton

Hey, Texas. Now that is one typical beat generation song, buddy. J.K. knew the bowery, right? Thanks, edgar. I need to go into the archives again, I guess.

Rex, Wonderful to see you, Maine. I really like the line in that song by Josh, "You raise me up to more than I can be."

Of course, listeners, we all know Miss Dolly. Thanks for the second hand blues, honey.

I once told my friend, Bill, that I liked Porter Wagner and he looked at me as though I had lost it, claiming that Porter resembled a cadaver. I guess I am a bit odd in that respect, but beautiful people all sort of look alike.

Here's an odd song, listeners, by Uriah Heep.



Which Way Will The Wind Blow
(From the album "DIFFERENT WORLD")



(Bolder)


People on the sidewalk
Making small talk
Keeping up with life
Ask no questions
Make no decisions
Just do what's right

Oh, do you wanna runaway
Oh, do you wanna breakaway

Someone's screamin'
Calling out for help
But everyone looks after themselves
No one cares or gives a damn
How can we live in this land

Are you looking out for you
One hand can change
This world, it's true
Some will stay and some must go
But do they really know

Oh, which way will the wind blow
Which way will the seas flow
Which way with time
Oh, which way will the world turn
Who's hand will control it in our time

With our hands on eyes
Fingers in our ears
We've been like this
For too many years
Let others do what they do
Without asking if it's good for you

Turn it round, upside down
Plug it in, turn up the sound
Let's hear what's in your head
Before it's too late to be said

A different song from the ones I usually post. This is an old song, but it is -timely, especially as it mentions places and names .

Qemal

Music: Manos Chatzidakes
Lyrics: Nikos Gatsos
Singer: Alcinoos Ioannides

In the lands of the East, once upon a time,
The jar was empty and the water was mouldy.
At Mosul and at Basra, at the old date-palm tree,
The children of the desert were crying with sorrow now.

And a young man from a family with reputation, a royal family,
When he was listening the dirge, he walked away.
The Bedouins were looking him with a sad glance,
And he was swearing to them to Allah, that times will change once.

When the "masters" learned how fearless the youth was,
They acquired wolfish teeth and lion's fleece.
From Tigris to Euphrates, and from earth to heaven,
They were pursuing the rebel, wanting to catch him alive.

When the hordes found him, they attacked him like violent dogs,
Wanting to take him to the Caliph, who would place him on the rope.
It was like he drunk black milk and black honey that morning,
Before he left his last breath in the gallows.

With two old camels, and a red steed,
The Prophet was waiting him at the gate of Heavens.
They were now walking hand-with-hand, there were dense clouds around them,
But the star of Damascus, was keeping them company.

In a month, or in a year, they faced Allah.
Who was sitting in his high throne, and told foolish Sebah:
My defeated pride, times will never change.
The World always advances with fire and sword.

Goodnight Qemal, this World never changes.

Ellinas, our dear Grecian friend. It is always delightful to see you here.

That song is a bit dark, but I can see the allusion quite clearly, especially in this particular verse:

When the "masters" learned how fearless the youth was,
They acquired wolfish teeth and lion's fleece.
From Tigris to Euphrates, and from earth to heaven,
They were pursuing the rebel, wanting to catch him alive.

Yes, listeners, it's always the leader of the pack that needs to be shackled, right? Speaking of which:

Artist: Shangri-Las
Song: Leader Of The Pack


Is she really going out with him?
Well there she is, lets ask her
Betty, is that Jimmy's ring your wearing? mmhumm
Gee it must be great riding with him,
is he picking you up after school today? uh-uh
by the way, where'd you meet him?

I met him at the candy store
He turned around and smiled at me you get the picture?
Yes we see
Thats when I fell for
The leader of the pack

My folks were always putting him down...down, down
They say he came from the wrong side of town
Whatcha mean when they say he came from the wrong side of town
They told me he was bad
But I knew he was sad
Thats why I fell for
The leader of the pack

One day my dad said find someone new
I had to tell my jimmy we're through
whatcha mean when you say you had to go find somebody new?
He stood there and asked me why
But all I could do was cry
I'm sorry I hurt you
The leader of the pack

(spoken)
He sorta smiled, and kissed me goodbye
the tears were beginning to show,
as he drove away on that rainy night, I begged him to go slow.
whether he heard, I'll never know
look out look out look out!

I felt so helpless what could I do
Remembering all the things we've been thru
In school they all stop and stare
I can't hide my tears but I dont care
I'll never forget him the leader of the pack

Gone, the leader of the pack and now he's gone.

That one got away. <smile> but could be found in Lost Horizons.

Good afternoon folks, have great weekend.

Elkie Brooks
Pearl's A Singer Lyrics

Pearl's a singer
She stands up when she plays the piano in a night club
Pearl's a singer,
She sings songs for the lost and the lonely
Her job is entertaining folks
Singing songs and telling jokes in a night club

Pearl's a singer
And they say that she once was a winner in a contest
Pearl-'s a singer
And they say that she once got a record
They played it for a week be so on the local radio
It never made it she wanted to be Betty Gravel
But now she sits there at that beer stained table dreaming,
of the thing she never got to do
All those dreams that never came true

Pearl's a singer
She stands up when she plays the piano in a night club
Pearl's a singer
She sings songs for the lost and the lonely
Her job is entertaining folks
Singing songs and telling jokes in a night club

Pearl's a singer
She stands up when she plays the piano in a night club
Pearl's a singer
She sings songs for the lost and the lonely
Her job is entertaining folks
Singing songs and telling jokes in a night club

Well, here is our Try again, and singing poor, pitiful Pearl. We hope that Pearl is not only a singer, but a swinger as well, buddy.

Quote for today:

Who says that no one perceives "the priceless pearl?" I say the black dragon's pearl shines forth wherever it is. Yuanwu (1063-1135)

I just wondered;

what are the names of Donald Duck's three nephews?

In Norway they're called Ole, Dole and Doffen. In Denmark Rip, Rap and Rup.

It bothers me that I do not know their original names...

Happy Canada Day, eh!

Stompin Tom Connors is a Canadian musical icon with some marvellous contributions to the Canadian discography.

This afternoon I'll suggest this combination

The Ketchup Song

There was a guy from PEI they used to call Podato
He met this young Leamington Ontario Tomato
But he had eyes for other girls & she was a little mushy
So they said well let's get wed there's no sense bein fussy

Chorus:
Baked sized french fries-how they love Tomatoes
So dress em up with Heinz Ketchup-(Ketchup luvs Potatoes)x2

Well he went down to Windsor town to buy a ring on Monday
Saturday they said OK we'll cut the cake on Sunday
But Sunday came and what a shame-They had no one to fetch it
Without a cake they just sat and ate-Potato chips and ketchup
Bake sized french fries how they love Tomatoes
So dress em up with Heinz Ketchup- (Ketchup luvs Potatoes)X2

And so this guy from Pei they used to call Podato
Got two boys and a little girl-Two spuds & one Tomato
They romp and run around Leamington and boy when they get hungry
The bottle drips all over the chips way down in the ketchup country.

and



Bud The Spud

It's bud the spud from the bright red mud
Goin down the Hiway smiling-
The Spuds are big on the back of Bud's rig
And they're from Prince Edward Island they're from PEI

Now from Charlottetown or from Summerside
They load him down for the big long ride
He jumps in the cab and he's off with the pride Sobagos
He's gotta catch the boat to make Tormentine & he heads up that old New B. line
Through Montreal he comes just a flyin with another big load a badadoes.

Now the OPP don't think mucha Bud...
Yeah the cops a been lookin for the son of a gun
That's been rippin the tar off the 401-
They know the name on the truck shines up in the sun-"Green Gables."
But he hits Toronto and it's 7 O'Clock when he backs er up agin the terminal dock.
And the boys gather round just to hear him talk
About another big load a badadoes!
Chorus:
Now I know a lot of people from east to west
that like the spuds from the island best.
Cause they'll stand up to the hardest test-right on the table.
So when ya see that big truck rollin by-wave yer hand or kinda wink yer eye,
Cause that's Bud the Spud from old PEI, with another big load a badadoes!
Chorus:
slow-because he's got another big load,
of the best dog gone badadoes that's ever been growed
And they're from PEI They're from PEI

Hey, Norway. Love seeing you here, Cyracuz. Well, I think I like the Norwegian and the Danish better, dear. But if you insist:

Huey, Dewey, and Louie.( Guess I spelled that correctly.)

Might as well play a song for one of them, right folks?

Not to worry; it's proper:

Artist: Richard Berry & The Pharaohs Lyrics
Song: Louie, Louie Lyrics

Louie, Louie, oh, oh, me gotta go
Louie, Louie, oh, oh, me gotta go

Fine little girl she waits for me
Me catch the ship for cross the sea
Me sail the ship all alone
Me never think me make it home

Louie, Louie...

Three nights and days me sail the sea
Me think of girl constantly
On the ship I dream she there
Me smell the rose in her hair

Louie, Louie...

Me see Jamaica moon above
It won't be long, me see my love,
I take her in my arms and then
Me tell her I never leave again

Louie, Louie...

Well, Beth. I had forgotten about you canajuns and your day. Love the potato songs, gal. Hmmmm. Bud the spud? I used to call him Bud the Stud.

Well, Toronto, how come you to drag Setanta away before he finished talking about Henry Cabot Lodge.

Hey, gal. You just reminded me of a poem that my Dad used to recite. Think it was my dad.

Down cellar," said the cricket,
"Down cellar," said the cricket,
"Down cellar," said the cricket,
"I saw a ball last night,
In honor of a lady,
In honor of a lady,
In honor of a lady,
Whose wings were pearly-white.
The breath of bitter weather,
The breath of bitter weather,
The breath of bitter weather,
Had smashed the cellar pane.
We entertained a drift of leaves,
We entertained a drift of leaves,
We entertained a drift of leaves,
And then of snow and rain.
But we were dressed for winter,
But we were dressed for winter,
But we were dressed for winter,
And loved to hear it blow
In honor of the lady,
In honor of the lady,
In honor of the lady,
Who makes potatoes grow,
Our guest the Irish lady,
The tiny Irish lady,
The airy Irish lady,
Who makes potatoes grow.


II


"Potatoes were the waiters,
Potatoes were the waiters,
Potatoes were the waiters,
Potatoes were the band,
Potatoes were the dancers
Kicking up the sand,
Kicking up the sand,
Kicking up the sand,
Potatoes were the dancers
Kicking up the sand.
Their legs were old burnt matches,
Their legs were old burnt matches,
Their legs were old burnt matches,
Their arms were just the same.
They jigged and whirled and scrambled,
Jigged and whirled and scrambled,
Jigged and whirled and scrambled,
In honor of the dame,
The noble Irish lady
Who makes potatoes dance,
The witty Irish lady,
The saucy Irish lady,
The laughing Irish lady
Who makes potatoes prance.


III


"There was just one sweet potato.
He was golden brown and slim.
The lady loved his dancing,
The lady loved his dancing,
The lady loved his dancing,
She danced all night with him,
She danced all night with him.
Alas, he wasn't Irish.
So when she flew away,
They threw him in the coal-bin,
And there he is today,
Where they cannot hear his sighs
And his weeping for the lady,
The glorious Irish lady,
The beauteous Irish lady,
Who
Gives
Potatoes
Eyes."

Hello friends, This is Stompin' Tom Connors
And I'd like to dedicate this song to that old Alberta cowboy himself
Wilf Carter

(yodeling)

In the year 1904, Upon a cold December morn
In Port Hillford, Nova Scotia Wilf Carter he was born
Went to work for the local farmers, at a very tender age
Til' the Bush Camps of New Brunswick hired Wilf for a better pay
And Wilf began to yodeleyaee in the back woods of Amdee

(yodeling)

From the Maritimes to Boston now, the wheat fields of the West
The Plains of ol' Alberta they just seemed to suit him best
Punching cows and breaking horse was the life he loved to lead
And you'd always see Wilf Carter at the Calgary Stampede
And Wilf would always yodeleyaee on the streets of Calgary

(yodeling)

When he sang, he'd play the guitar, tellin' stories that were true
For the songs that he wrote, were always about people that he knew
And he took his compositions down to Montreal by train
Where he made his first recording, and was on his way to fame
And Wilf began to yodeleyaee on the radio CBC

(yodeling)

Just the plain and simple cowboy, with that old familar grin
To the USA, Wilf Carter was now Montana Slim
From the hungary hobo jungles, to the top recording star
And the people came by thousands, when he strummed that old guitar
And Wilf would always yodeleyaee in a voice so young and free

(yodeling)

Now the message of my story won't be hard to understand
And I think I speak for every hardcore country music fan
Though the modern record players have replaced the gramaphone
I still love to here Wilf Carter singing play the cowboy songs
And Wilf can still yodeleyaee any time he wants for me

(yodeling)


remember Wilf Carter?

http://fieldwoodhs.ednet.ns.ca/cfhswilfrec000.html