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Guinevere of the royal court of Arthur
Draped in white velvet, silk and lace.
The rustle of her gown on the marble staircase,
Sparkles on fingers, slender and pale.
The jester he sleeps but the raven he peeps
Through the dark foreboding skies of the royal domain.
Maroon-coloured wine from the vineyards of Charlemagne
Is sipped by the queen's lips and so gently
Indigo eyes in the flickering candlelight,
Such is the silence o'er royal Camelot.
The jester he sleeps but the raven he peeps
Through the dark foreboding skies of the royal domain.
Guinevere of the royal court of Arthur
Draped in white velvet, silk and lace.
The rustle of her gown on the marble staircase,
Sparkles on her fingers both slender and pale.
The jester he sleeps but the raven he peeps
Through the dark foreboding skies of the royal domain.

I dreamed I saw St. Augustine,
Alive as you or me,
Tearing through these quarters
In the utmost misery,
With a blanket underneath his arm
And a coat of solid gold,
Searching for the very souls
Whom already have been sold.

"Arise, arise," he cried so loud,
In a voice without restraint,
"Come out, ye gifted kings and queens
And hear my sad complaint.
No martyr is among ye now
Whom you can call your own,
So go on your way accordingly
But know you're not alone."

I dreamed I saw St. Augustine,
Alive with fiery breath,
And I dreamed I was amongst the ones
That put him out to death.
Oh, I awoke in anger,
So alone and terrified,
I put my fingers against the glass
And bowed my head and cried.

The posts today in honor of the Irish have been unique and delightful.

Now that it's almost over--it is for out European friends, I will post my usual, late weather report. The forecast for tonight is DARK. There is a quarter moon that is lovely here in New Mexico.

Stargazing Tip for March 17
The first-quarter Moon is near the center of a large triangle formed by the stars Capella and Betelgeuse and the planet Saturn. The Moon reaches first quarter at 1:19 p.m. CST. Sunlight illuminates half of the lunar disk.

Where does the white go when the snow melts? ~Author Unknown

A goodnight song to our remarkable hostess, Miss Letty:

Sleepy Time Gal
Sleepy time gal,
You're turnin' night into day!
Sleepy time gal,
You've danced the ev'ning away!

Before each silvery star fades out of sight,
Please give me one little kiss,
then let us whisper "Goodnight,"
It's gettin' late and, Dear, your pillow's waitin' . . .
Sleepy time gal, when all your dancin' is through,
Sleepy time gal, I'll find a cottage for you.

You'll learn to cook and to sew,
What's more, you'll love it, I know!
When you're a stay-at-home, play-at-home,
Eight o'clock sleepy time gal!

< instrumental repeat of verse >

You'll learn to cook and to sew,
What's more, you'll love it, I know!
When you're a stay-at-home, play-at-home,
Eight o'clock sleepy time gal!

~ title song of the 1942 film "Sleepy Time Gal", 1925
Music by Ange Lorenzo and Richard A. Whiting
with lyrics by Joseph R. Alden and Raymond B. Egan, 1925
Leo Feist Inc. / Whiting Music Corp.

One more thing---Daniel Patrick Moynihan was one of the most effective senators in this country's history, as far as I'm concerned. His death wasn't entered in Aggie's list of births. If only he was still around, we might be hearing something other than pap coming out of the mouths of most Democrats. He died in March, 2003, more's the pity.

agreed

"Ae mercat day near Huntly toun...."

In case the listeners find that puzzling, it is a broad Scottish dialect from the Aberdeen area, the song dating I daresay from the 18th century. The theme is a perennial one, a young girl got with child by an itinerant farm worker.

Lang may your lums reek.

Good morning, WA2K radio listeners and staff.

McTag, I assumed that the lyrics to that song were about a woman undone. So many songs are, regardless of the century from which they came. Listeners, watch out for those itinerate preachers and farm workers. <smile>

edgar, the jazz police caught my eye in your song, as did Guinevere, of course. I seem to recall that the name means "white lady".

Ah, Diane. A weather report--a goodnight song--and a political statement. What do they have in common? More than we could imagine, right?

Well, folks. We have celebrated command day; St. Patrick's Day; Woman's month, and now spring approaches. Ah, me. More clock concoctions. Someone once told me that he set all his clocks to the absolute correct time, then ignored them.

Back later with more music and items of interest, listeners.

Dave Allen, a lovely Irish comedian, said we live our lives by the clock.
We rise to an alarm clock, clock in at work, leave at a certain time, do so many hours in the week and so on.
And what do we get when we finally leave work?

The present of a clock.

Ah, McTag and all. How true; how true. Then, of course, there's one's biological clock. Take's a licking but keeps on ticking? Hopefully!

Here's an item of interest:

Recent studies have indicated that an individual who has a couple of drinks a day is less likely to get type II diabetes. Soooooo, make that a double.

Believe it or not, listeners, it is downright cold here today. I guess it's that old north wind.

Song for the clocks:

My grandfather's clock was too large for the shelf,
So it stood ninety years on the floor.

Time on my hands,
You in my arms,
Nothing but love in view,
And if I fall,
Once and for all,
I'll make my dreams come true,

Moments to share,
With someone you care for,
One love affair for two.

Time on my hands,
And you in my arms,
And love in my heart for you.

That made a neat arrangement for our little trio. Can still hear the harmony parts in my head.

Last night, I closed with "tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow". It suddenly made me realize one of Frost's poems that says so much and whose title was based on that Shakespearian quote:

"Out, Out - "
by: Robert Frost

The buzz saw snarled and rattled in the yard
And made dust and dropped stove-length sticks of wood,
Sweet-scented stuff when the breeze drew across it.
And from there those that lifted eyes could count
Five mountain ranges one behing the other
Under the sunset far into Vermont.
And the saw snarled and rattled, snarled and rattled,
As it ran light, or had to bear a load.
And nothing happened: day was all but done.
Call it a day, I wish they might have said
To please the boy by giving him the half hour
That a boy counts so much when saved from work.
His sister stood beside him in her apron
To tell them "Supper." At the word, the saw,
As if it meant to prove saws know what supper meant,
Leaped out at the boy's hand, or seemed to leap -
He must have given the hand. However it was,
Neither refused the meeting. But the hand!
Half in appeal, but half as if to keep
The life from spilling. Then the boy saw all -
Since he was old enough to know, big boy
Doing a man's work, though a child at heart -
He saw all was spoiled. "Don't let him cut my hand off -
The doctor, when he comes. Don't let him, sister!"
So. The hand was gone already.
The doctor put him in the dark of ether.
He lay and puffed his lips out with his breath.
And then - the watcher at his pulse took a fright.
No one believed. They listened to his heart.
Little - less - nothing! - and that ended it.
No more to build on there. And they, since they
Were not the one dead, turned to their affairs.

From "Complete Poems of Robert Frost", 1916

Listeners, if it were ninety degrees here, that would still send a shiver through my body.

Can anyone, without researching, tell me from which play that was taken?

I hadn't know this about Robert Frost. While working a crossword puzzle, a question about his home was posed, and I began reading his bio on the net.

"At the same time that his literary career flourished and he enjoyed much success in his public life, Robert Frost suffered several personal tragedies in close succession. In 1934, his daughter Marjorie died. Her death has been described as Robert's great tragedy and final blow to Elinor, who died of a heart attack in 1938. In 1940, Robert Frost's only remaining son, Carol, committed suicide. Frost's daughter, Irma was committed to the State Hospital in Concord, N.H. for a short time and then under the care of Lesley, was finally settled into a nursing home in northern Vermont."

I also read, but can't locate the source at the moment, that Frost himself had contemplated suicide on several occastions.

Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more: it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing. (Macbeth )

Be back with today's birthdays.

WOW! Raggedy, I didn't have any idea about Frost's tragic background. One of my COLLEAGUES (that's for McTag) had observed that his marital relationship was very poor. Makes me want to revisit his "Love and a Question."

Well, you were totally correct with your answer, but I was hoping you would pick another Scot.

Listeners, for those of you who do the puzzle bit, I discovered a new word:

tub-thump.

tub-thump

Now you've got me wondering about the Scot. Would it be: Out, damned spot! Out, I say(Lady Macbeth)

BD time:

1483 Raphael painter (died 1520)
1782 John C. Calhoun, statesman/vice president of the United States (Abbeville District, SC; died 1850)
1837 Grover Cleveland, 22d and 24th president of the United States (Caldwell, NJ; died 1908)
1483 Raphael painter (Sistine Madonna)
1842 Stéphane Mallarmé, poet (France; died 1898)
1844 Nicolai Andreevich Rimsky-Korsakov Tikhvin Russia, composer (Flight of the Bumble Bee, Scheherazade) (died 1908)
1869 Neville Chamberlain, British prime minister (Britain; died 1940)
1905 Robert Donat Withington Manchester England, actor (Goodbye Mr Chips, Citadel) (died 1958)
1920 John Paul II [Karol Wojtyla], Poland, Pope
1926 Peter Graves, actor (Minneapolis, MN)
1886 Edward Everett Horton Brooklyn NY, actor/narrator (Bullwinkle Show) (died 1970)
1927 George Plimpton, writer (New York, NY)
1927 John Harold Kander composer (Cabaret, Funny Lady, Kramer vs Kramer) (Died 2004)
1932 John Updike, novelist (Shillington, PA)
1936 Frederik Willem de Klerk, South African president (Johannesburg, South Africa)
1939 Charley Pride, singer (Sledge, MS)
1941 Wilson Pickett, singer/songwriter (Prattville, AL)
1956 Ingemar Stenmark, Olympic champion skier (Sweden)
1959 Irene Cara, singer/actress (Bronx, NY)
1963 Vanessa Williams, singer/actress (New York, NY)
1964 Bonnie Blair, Olympic champion speedskater (Cornwall, NY)
1970 Queen Latifah, rap singer/actress (East Orange, NJ)

Out damned spot? Love it, Raggedy. Actually, I was referring to MacTag. hee hee!

Oh, my word. There's The Song of India man again. Never have located all the lyrics for the Prince in the cashmere coat.

Listeners, the Pope's name is Karol. No wonder he's hanging on so long. Sorta like a boy named Sue. Really, all, I am amazed at all that man has endured.

This is cyberspace, WA2K.

It's been almost three years and the movie "The Song of Scheherezade, (Yvonne DeCarlo), (as Leonard Maltin puts it: colorful tripe about Rimsky-Korsakov's true inspiration, a dancing girl) still hasn't shown up on TV. Just want the Prince to know I've been keeping watch, because that's where we'll hear "SONG OF INDIA"
Adapted from Rimsky-Korsakov by Miklós Rózsa
Lyrics Jack Brooks
Sung by Charles Kullman

Listeners, is Raggedy a right reverend researcher or not?

Now that I know Brooks and Kullman, perhaps our luck will change.

and we want to dedicate The Flight of the Bumble Bee to BBB, another of our marvelous researchers.

There's another March salute day, audience, but I won't even bother to acknowledge March Madness and round ball; however, we all must admit, airJordan is a hunk.

Happy birthday Peter Graves

Peter Graves (actor)



Peter Graves (born March 18, 1926, in Minneapolis, Minnesota as Peter Aurness) is an American actor who made more than 70 screen and TV films and series. He is best known for the following roles: as the German spy posing as an American POW in the movie Stalag 17; as the Impossible Missions Force leader Jim Phelps in TV's Mission: Impossible; and for his portrayal of Captain Clarence Oveur in Airplane!. During the 1990s, he hosted the documentary series Biography on A&E.

The left-handed Graves is married with Joan Endress (since 1950) and has 3 daughters. His brother is the American actor James Arness (Gunsmoke).

p. s. We older people also remember him from the tv series Fury

Yes, Bob, and we older people also remember Martin Laundau. <smile>

Hmmm, listeners, do you suppose that we could celebrate Wilson Pickett's birthday and entice hebba away from Denmark with this song:

1-2-3
1-2-3
Ow! Uh! Alright! Uh!

Got to know how to pony
Like Bony Maronie
Mash potato, do the alligator
Put your hand on your hips, yeah
Let your backbone slip
Do the Watusi
Like my little Lucy
Hey! Uh!

Na na-na-na-na na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na na-na-na-na
I need somebody to help me say it one time
(Na na-na-na-na na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na na-na-na-na )
Wo--ow!

Saxophone solo

Wow! Uh! You know I feel alright! Huh! I feel pretty good y'all
Uh! Huh!
Na na-na-na-na na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na na-na-na-na
Come on y'all, let's say it one more time
(Na na-na-na-na na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na na-na-na-na )
Ooow!

Playing, it is a habit
With long tall Sally
Twistin' with Lucy
Doin' the Watusi
Roll over on your back
I like it like that
Do that Jerk-uh
Watch me work y'all
Ow! Do it!
Wow! Do it!
Just watch me do it

Aah help me
Aah help me
Aah help me
Aah help me

Fade

Wow! Looka that Letty dance.