WA2K Radio is now on the air

and now for a shameless plug

i'm kinda, sorta, just about reviving my song posts in the music & lyrics forum, the latest is in the topic "great song (give it a listen), i don't have the time to kep up the album profile thing, but i'll try and post a song or two each week

even though it's only 8:22, a song for a saturday night

Piano Man
Billy Joel

It's nine o'clock on a Saturday
The Regular crowd shuffles in
There's an old man sitting next to me
Makin' love to his tonic and gin

He says, "Son, can you play me a memory
I'm not really sure how it goes
But it's sad and it's sweet and I knew it complete
When I wore a younger man's clothes"

La la la, de de da
La la, de de da da dum

Chorus:
Sing us a song, you're the piano man
Sing us a song tonight
Well, we're all in the mood for a melody
And you've got us feelin' alright

Now John at the bar is a friend of mine
He gets me my drinks for free
And he's quick with a joke or to light up your smoke
But there's someplace that he'd rather be
He says, "bill, I believe this is killing me."
As the smile ran away from his face
"Well I'm sure that I could be a movie star
If I could get out of this place"

Oh, la la la, de de da
La la, de de da da dum

Now Paul is a real estate novelist
Who never had time for a wife
And he's talkin' with Davy, who's still in the navy
And probably will be for life

And the waitress is practicing politics
As the businessmen slowly get stoned
Yes, they're sharing a drink they call loneliness
But it's better than drinkin' alone

Chorus
sing us a song you're the piano man
sing us a song tonight well we're all in the mood
for a melody and you got us feeling alright

It's a pretty good crowd for a Saturday
And the manager gives me a smile
'Cause he knows that it's me they've been comin' to see
To forget about life for a while
And the piano, it sounds like a carnival
And the microphone smells like a beer
And they sit at the bar and put bread in my jar
And say, "Man, what are you doin' here."

Oh, la la la, de de da
La la, de de da da dum

Chorus:
sing us a song you're the piano man sing us a song tonight
well we're all in the mood for a melody and you got us
feeling alright

Ah, dj. Plug away. If I didn't have dial up, I would be right there with you.

Hey, I love Billy Joel, truly, and this one as well:

Mr.Tambourine Man

Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,
I'm not sleepy and there is no place I'm going to.
Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me,
In the jingle-jangle morning I'll come followin' you.

Though I know that evenin's empire has returned into sand,
Vanished from my hand,
Left me blindly here to stand but still not sleeping.
My weariness amazes me, I'm branded on my feet,
I have no one to meet
And the ancient empty street's too dead for dreaming.

Hey, Mr.Tambourine Man, etc.

Take me on a trip upon your magic swirlin' ship,
My senses have been stripped, my hands can't feel to grip,
My toes too numb to step, wait only for my boot heels
To be wanderin'.
I'm ready to go anywhere, I'm ready for to fade
Into my own parade, cast your dancing spell my way,
I promise to go under it.

Hey, Mr.Tambourine Man, etc.

Though you might hear laughin', spinnin', swingin' madly across the sun,

It's not aimed at anyone, it's just escapin' on the run
And but for the sky there are no fences facin'.
And if you hear vague traces of skippin' reels of rhyme
To your tambourine in time, it's just a ragged clown behind
I wouldn't pay it any mind, it's just a shadow you're
Seeing' that he's chasing

Hey, Mr.Tambourine Man, etc.

-- Bob Dylan

for me, that song will always be associated with the band that sang this song

Eight Miles High
The Byrds

Eight miles high and when you touch down
You'll find that it's stranger than known
Signs in the street that say where you're going
Are somewhere just being their own

Nowhere is there warmth to be found
Among those afraid of losing their ground
Rain gray town known for it's sound
In places small faces unbound

Round the squares huddled in storms
Some laughing some just shapeless forms
Sidewalk scenes and black limousines
Some living some standing alone

Well, listeners, our dj has come through once more.

Whatever you want to hear, he will play.

Well, folks, this is NOT formula radio, but we reserve the right to replay<smile>

You And Me Against The World
( Helen Reddy )

You and me against the world
Sometimes it feels like you and me against the world
When all the others turn their back and walk away
You can count on me to stay

Remember when the circus came to town
And you were frightened by the clown?
Wasn't it nice to be around someone that you knew?
Someone who was big and strong and looking out for

You and me against the world
Sometimes it feels like you and me against the world
And for all the times we've cried I always felt that
The odds were on our side

And when one of us is gone
And one of us is left to carry on
Then remembering will have to do
Our memories alone will get us through
Think about the days of me and you
Of you and me against the world

Remember when the circus came to town
And you were frightened by the clown?
Wasn't it nice to be around someone that you knew?
Someone who was big and strong and looking out for

You and me against the world
Sometimes it feels like you and me against the world
And for all the times we've cried I always felt that
The odds were on our side

And when one of us is gone
And one of us is left to carry on
Then remembering will have to do
Our memories alone will get us through
Think about the days of me and you
Of you and me against the world
You and me against the world
You and me against the world

As BoGoWo from Toronto once said:

We're all in it together.

Old Rattler

I gotta hammer, hammer, hammer
Here rattler here
Oh yes goin' hammer on that mountain
Here rattler here
Until that mountain is a mole hill
Here rattler here

Oh yes been servin' here since thirty-nine
Here rattler here
Oh God my woman couldn't pay my fine
Here rattler here

Oh well ole rattler is a hound dog
Here rattler here
I say ole rattler is a hound dog
Here rattler here

Oh well I tol my captain my hands was cold
Here rattler here
He said oh damn your hands, let the wheelin' roll
Here rattler here

Oh well ole rattler is a hound dog
Here rattler here
I say ole rattler is a hound dog
Here rattler here

Oh well, ole rattler is the captain's friend
Here rattler here
Oh Lord-y nine got away and he brought back ten
Here rattler here

Oh well ole rattler is a hound dog
Here rattler here
I say ole rattler is a hound dog
Here rattler here

Oh well John Henry had a woman,
Her name was Polly Ann
Oh when John Henry took sick
Well Polly drove steel like a man

Oh yes my captain down in Georgia
Took a shot at me
And by the time he took that second shot
I passed through Tennessee

Oh well both Rufus Akes and Rastas Payne
Got married down in Gaines
And now they say that all them Georgia woods
Is filled with Akes and Payne's

Oh well ole rattler is a hound dog
Here rattler here
I say ole rattler is a hound dog
Here rattler here

Well if today the same as yesterday
Here rattler here
Oh God tomorrow be my judgment day
Here rattler here

Oh well ole rattler is a hound dog
Here rattler here
I say ole rattler is a hound dog
Here rattler here

random tunes for random times

Pencil Thin Moustache
Jimmy Buffett

Now they make new movies in old black and white
With happy endings, where nobody fights
So if you find yourself in that nostalgic rage
Honey, jump right up and show your age

I wish I had a pencil thin mustache
The "Boston Blackie" kind
A two toned Ricky Ricardo jacket
And an autographed picture of Andy Devine

I remember bein' buck-toothed and skinny
Writin' fan letters to Sky's niece Penny
Oh I wish I had a pencil thin mustache
Then I could solve some mysteries too

Then it's Bandstand, Disneyland, growin' up fast
Drinkin' on a fake I.D.
Yeah, and Rama of the jungle was everyone's Bawana
But only jazz musicians were smokin' marijuana

Yeah, I wish I had a pencil thin mustache
Then I could solve some mysteries too

Then it's flat top, dirty bob, coppin' a feel
Grubbin' on the livin' room floor (so sore)
Yeah, they send you off to college, try to gain a little knowledge,
But all you want to do is learn how to score

Yeah, but now I'm gettin' old, don't wear underwear
I don't go to church and I don't cut my hair
But I can go to movies and see it all there
Just the way that it used to be

That's why I wish I had a pencil thin mustache
The "Boston Blackie" kind
A two-toned Ricky Ricardo jacket
And an autographed picture of Andy Devine

Oh, I could be anyone I wanted to be
Maybe suave Errol Flynn or the Sheik of Araby
If I only had a pencil thin mustache
Then I could do some cruisin' too

Coda:
Yeah, Bryl-cream, a little dab'll do yah
Oh, I could do some cruisin' too


Movie Star
Cracker

Well the movie star,
well she crashed her car.
But everyone said she was beautiful
even without her head.
Everyone said she was dangerous.

Well the chief of police
kept the crime off the streets.
But deep in his heart,
we all knew he felt differently.
We all knew he was an anarchist.

Well I
I'd like to devour you
But you
You'd prob'lydevour me.

For your golden head,
for your oat bran hair.
Deep in my heart
Girl you're a beautiful animal
I'll put a tag on your ear.

Well the movie star,
well she crashed her car.
But everyone said she was beautiful
even without her head.
Everyone said she was dangerous.

Well the chief of police
kept the crime off the streets.
But deep in his heart
we all knew he felt differently.
We all knew he was an anarchist.

Well I
I'd like to devour you.
But you
You'd prob'ly devour me.

Well I
I'd like to devour you.
But you
You'd prob'ly devour me.

Girl you're a beautiful animal.
Girl you're a beautiful animal.
Girl you're a beautiful animal.
Girl you're a beautiful animal.


Speedway
Morrissey

And when you slam
Down the hammer
Can you see it in your heart ?
All of the rumours
Keeping me grounded
I never said, I never said that they were
Completely unfounded

So when you slam
Down the hammer
Can you see it in your heart ?
Can you delve so low ?
And when you're standing
On my fingers
Can you see it in your heart ? ... ah ...
And when you try
To break my spirit
It won't work
Because there's nothing left to break
Anymore
All of the rumours
Keeping me grounded
I never said, I never said that they were
Completely unfounded


You won't sleep
Until the earth that wants me
Finally has me
Oh you've done it now
You won't rest
Until the hearse that becomes me
Finally takes me
Oh you've done it now
And you won't smile
Until my loving mouth
Is shut good and proper
Forever

All of the rumours
Keeping me grounded
I never said, I never said that they were
Completely unfounded
And all those lies
Written lies, twisted lies
Well, they weren't lies
They weren't lies
They weren't lies


I never said
I never said
I could have mentioned your name
I could have dragged you in
Guilt by implication
By association
I've always been true to you
In my own strange way
I've always been true to you
In my own sick way
I'll always stay true to you


Psychogirl
Jens Lekman

She worked in my postoffice.
In my zip code, in my postal area.
I don't think I should reveal her name.
She'll remain anonymous, but we can call her Maria.
I met her at university.
She stared at me, I stared right back at her.
We went out for a coffee or two.
It all felt new, I can tell you.
But she turned out to be a psychogirl.

They all fall for me psychogirls.
They are drawn to me, mysteriously.
I don't know why.
Just turn around now psychogirl.
I can't be your guy, I can't dry your tears from your eyes.

She sent me an SMS.
But it felt more like an SOS, a cry for help.
I know your life has been a mess.
You cried yourself to sleep as a child.
In your mommy's dress and your summerdress.
But stop following me psychogirl.
I have enough problems to deal with on my own.
Just turn around now psychogirl.
Your eyes are like knives, cutting into my bones.
And if I'd be your psychologist, who would be the psychologists psychologist?
If I'd be your psychologist, who would be the psychologists psychologist?
If I'd be your psychologist, who would be the psychologists psychologist?

You'll never know what you'll find in my photomontages. Anything could show up. Have you seen the latest ones?

edgar, Somewhere in the back of my mind. (no, not my brain) comes a phrase:

"Here rattler here; here rattler here.
Called ole rattler from the barn,
Here rattler here."



dj, the song that caught my ear was Pencil Thin Moustache.

Fascinating, Canada.

there's more to jimmy buffet than just margaritas

Hey again, Reyn. I think that I have seen most of yours, but I promise I will take a look see tomorrow. Tonight, I am a wee bit bleary.

My goodnight song and I think Francis may enjoy this one:


CHANSON FRANÇAISE
(James Taylor)

J'ai trouvé cette chanson française
Mise dans un coin,
Tout au fond de mon crâne,
Pas encore exprimée.

Et donc, je manque des idées anglaises
Paraître, peut-être quelque chose.
Je n'ai pas pensé,
Si je dis que je t'aime,
Ce n'est pas tout à fait
La vieille même chose
Car les mots que je dis
Ne viennent pas du même esprit.

Et me voici, baby,
Étranger, nouveau.
J'essaye et j'essaye mais je sais
Que je n'ai pas assez de français.
Mais qu'est ce qu'on peut dire?
Il faut finir,
Suffisant à dire,
Je ne vais jamais écrire
Encore une chanson française

Au revoir mes amis,
Je vous aime beaucoup.

I had no idea, listeners, that James Taylor ever sang a French song.

Not goodbye, though. Just goodnight. <smile>

Hey mr. DJ,.... Or Ms.Hostess,
....Speaking of Saturday night, if I prime the pump with the chorus, can you play The Drifters' "Saturday Nite At the Movies?":

.........Saturday night at the movies,
.........who cares what picture you see-e-e-e,
..........When I"m a huggin' and kissin' my baby in the balcony,

Saturday Night At The Movies
The Drifters

Well Saturday night at 8 o'clock
I know where I'm gonna go
I'm gonna pick my baby up
And take her to the picture show

Everybody in the neighbourhood
Is dressing up to be there too
And we're gonna have a ball
Just like we always do

Chorus:
Saturday night at the movies
Who cares what picture you see
When you're hugging with your baby in last row in the balcony

Well there's technicolor and cinemascope
A cast out of Hollywood
And the popcorn from the candy stand
Makes it all seem twice as good

There's always lots of pretty girls
With figures they don't try to hide
But they never can compare
To the girl sittin' by my side

(repeat chorus till fade)

and speaking of "hey mr. dj"

one from they might be giants

i love the line, "i could never sleep my way to the top, 'cause my alarm clock always wakes me right up"


Hey, Mr. DJ, I Thought You Said We Had a Deal

I could never sleep my way to the top
'Cause my alarm clock always wakes me right up
And since my options had been whittled away
I struck a bargain with my radio DJ
I said I'd like this song to be number one
He said "I'd really really like to help you my son"
And then I knew that I would have him to thank
Because he asked me how much I had in the bank

He said to think long term investment and
That all the others had forgiven themselves
He said the net reward would justify
The colossal mess they'd made of their lives

He said the record wouldn't have to be hot
And no one ever seemed to care if it's not
It would depend on something else that I've got
And that the other ones who'd given it a shot
Had seen a modest sum grow geometrically
And then they had forgiven themselves
Because the net reward had justified
The colossal mess they'd made of their lives*

Hey Mr. DJ, I thought you said we had a deal
I thought you said, "You scratch my back and I'll scratch your record"
And I thought you said we had a deal

Well, I told you about the world (its address)
I wonder when they're gonna clean up the mess
You know the rabid child is still tuning in
Chess piece face's patience must be wearing thin
Because they haven't played this song on the air
Not that anyone but me even cared
And the Disk Jockey has moved out of town
The district courthouse says he's nowhere to be found

He said to think long term investment and
That all the others had forgiven themselves
He said the net reward would justify
The colossal mess they'd made of their lives

Hey Mr. DJ, I thought you said we had a deal
I thought you said, "You scratch my back and I'll scratch your record"
And I thought you said we had a deal

That's it....
I'm a fan.
Of the man,
who's raisin' sand,
'Cause he know he can,

............................DJJD62

Letty, you may have been thinking about the Grandpa Jones song about Old Rattler.

OLD RATTLER
Recorded by Grandpa Jones


[G] Old Rattler was a good old dog; As blind as he could [D] be
Ev'ry night 'bout supper time; I believe that dog could [G] see.

Refrain:
[G] Here! Rattler, Here! Here!; Here! Rattler! [D] Here!
Call old Rattler from the barn; Here! Rattler! [G] Here!

Old Rattler tree'd the other night; And I tho't he'd tree'd a 'coon
When I come to find out; He was barkin' at the moon./Refrain:

Well, grandma had a yeller hen; We set her as you know
We set her on three buzzard eggs; And hatched out one old crow./Refrain:

Grandpa had a muley cow; She was muley when she's born
It took a jaybird forty year; To fly from horn to horn./Refrain:

Now if I had a needle and thread; As fine as I could sew
I'd sew my sweetheart to my back; And down the road I'd go./Refrain:

Old Rattler was a smart old dog; Even tho' he was blind
He wouldn't hurt one single thing; Tho' he was very fine.

One night I saw a big fat 'coon; Climb up in a tree
I called old Rattler right away; To get 'im down fer me.

But Rattler wouldn't do it; Because he liked that 'coon
I saw them walkin' paw in paw; Later by the light of the moon./Refrain:

Now old Rattler's dead and gone; Like all good dogs do
You better not act a dog yourself; Or you'll be goin' there too./Refrain:

Angels dining at the Ritz
That's an easy one. But what a great line!
It's even been used as the title of one of John Gardner's James Bond novels.

lyric by Eric Maschwitz

When true lovers meet in Mayfair,
So the legends tell,
Song birds sing,
Winter turns to spring,
Ev'ry winding street in Mayfair falls beneath the spell.
I know such enchantment can be,
'Cause it happened one ev'ning to me.

Chorus:
That certain night,
The night we met,
There was magic abroad in the air.
There were angels dining at the Ritz
And a nightingale sang in Berk'ley Square

I may be right, I may be wrong,
But I'm perfectly willing to swear
That when you turn'd and smiled at me,
A nightingale sang in Berk'ley Square

The moon that lingered over London town
Poor puzzled moon, he wore a frown
How could he know we two were so in love
The whole darn world seemed upside down

The streets of town were paved with stars
It was such a romantic affair
And as we kiss'd and said "good-night"
A nightingale sang in Berk'ley Square

How strange it was , How sweet and strange
There was never a dream to compare
With that hazy, crazy night we met
When a nightingale sang in Berk'ley Square

This heart of mine beat loud and fast
Like a merry-go-round in a fair
For we were dancing cheek to cheek
And a nightingale sang in Berk'ley Square

When dawn came stealing up all golden blue,
To interrupt our rendezvous.
I still remember how you smiled and said,
"Was that a dream or was it true?"

Our homeward step was just as light
As the tap-dancing feet of Astaire
And like an echo far away,
A nightingale sang in Berk'ley Square.

I know 'cause I was there,
That night in Berk'ley Square

Something posted here recently reminded me of this old song:


Man that Waters the Workers' Beer
(Paddy Ryan)

I am the man, the very fat man,
That waters the workers' beer
I am the man, the very fat man,
That waters the workers' beer
And what do I care if it makes them ill,
If it makes them terribly queer
I've a car, a yacht, and an aeroplane,
And I waters the workers' beer

Now when I waters the workers' beer,
I puts in strychnine
Some methylated spirits,
And a can of kerosine
Ah, but such a brew so terribly strong,
It would make them terribly queer
So I reaches my hand for the watering-can
And I waters the workers' beer

Now a drop of good beer is good for a man
When he's tired, thirsty and hot
And I sometimes have a drop myself,
From a very special pot
For a strong and healthy working class
Is the thing that I most fear
So I reaches my hand for the watering-can
And I waters the workers' beer

Now ladies fair, beyond compare,
Be you maiden or wife
Spare a thought for such a man
Who leads such a lonely life
For the water rates are frightfully high,
And the meths is terribly dear
And there ain't the profit there used to be
In watering the workers' beer

Good morning, WA2K radio fans.

We would like to welcome Whitebeard to our studios and especially appreciate his song, which is one of my personal favorites.

dj, has played the music that Boo loves to hear. Are you surprised listeners?

edgar, my word! Grandpa Jones! I met him years ago during a telerama. He is, believe it or not, a great jazz fan.

McTag has been singing away both here and elsewhere. <smile> Thanks, Brit. That song is funny.

I had an unusual experience this morning when I entered the studio. I looked at our monitor to welcome Whitebeard and the screen went totally white after which macroflash appeared with some odd message about clicking "yes". I had to shut down all the equipment.


Well, I am a bit concerned about our Raggedy, folks.

Need coffee so back later.

The Medway trip last night was indeed the panacea to cure Friday's woeful showing. A robust crowd and many other good (and some bad) singers. Couple that with my niece Liz's attendance along with a bevy of girls who were happy to share the table with their adopted "Uncle" Bob. The hunters hunted and the women accepted or rejected as they saw fit. Even though the pollen count gave me a scratchy throat, when I sang it diminished. All in all a wonderful evening.
But back to business. The wonderful aggie hasn't posted yet but I'm sure she won't miss L. Frank Baum's birthday today.

L. Frank Baum
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia.

Lyman Frank Baum (May 15, 1856 - May 6, 1919) was an American author and the creator of one of the most beloved classics of children's literature, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz.


Baum's childhood and early life

Frank was born in Chittenango, New York, the seventh of nine children born to Cynthia Stanton and Benjamin Ward Baum, only five of whom survived into adulthood. He was named "Lyman" after his father's brother, but always disliked this name, and preferred to go by "Frank". Benjamin Baum was a wealthy businessman, who had made his fortune in the oil fields of Pennsylvania. Frank grew up on his parent's expansive estate, Rose Lawn, which he always remembered fondly as a sort of paradise. As a young child Frank was tutored at home with his siblings, but at the age of 12 he was sent to study at Peekskill Military Academy. Frank was a sickly child given to daydreaming, and his parents may have thought he needed toughening up. But after two utterly miserable years at the Military Academy, following an incident described as a heart attack, he was allowed to return home.

Frank started writing at an early age, perhaps due to an early fascination with printing. His father bought him a cheap printing press, and together with his younger brother, Harry Clay Baum (who had always been close to Frank), produced The Rose Lawn Home Journal. The brothers published several issues of the journal, and were even able to sell ads in the paper. By the time he was 17 Baum had established a second amateur journal, The Stamp Collector, printed an 11 page pamphlet Baum's Complete Stamp Dealers' Directory, and started a stamp dealership with his friends.

At about the same time Frank entered his lifetime infatuation with theater and the performing arts, a devotion which would time after time lead him to failure and near-bankruptcy. His first such failure occurred at age 18, when a local theatrical company duped him into replenishing their stock of costumes, with the promise of leading roles that never came his way. Disillusioned, Baum left the theatre - temporarily - and went to work as a clerk in his brother-in-law's dry goods company in Syracuse.

At the age of 20, Baum took on a new vocation: the breeding of fancy poultry, which was a national craze at the time. He specialized in raising a particular breed of poultry, the Hamburg chicken. In 1880 he established a monthly trade journal, The Poultry Record, and in 1886, when Baum was 30 years old, his first book was published: The Book of the Hamburgs: A Brief Treatise upon the Mating, Rearing, and Management of the Different Varieties of Hamburgs.

Baum could never stay away from the stage long. He continued to take roles in plays, under the stage name of Louis F. Baum. In 1880 his father made him manager of a string of theaters that he owned, and Baum set about writing plays and gathering a company to act in them. The Maid of Arran, a melodrama based on a popular novel, proved a great success. Baum not only wrote the play but composed songs for it, and acted in the leading role.

He married Maud Gage, daughter of Matilda Joslyn Gage, the famous women's suffrage activist.

The South Dakota years

Frank and Maud later moved to Aberdeen, South Dakota, where he opened a store, "Baum's Bazaar". His habit of giving out wares on credit led to the eventual bankrupting of the store, so Baum turned to editing a local newspaper, The Aberdeen Saturday Pioneer, where he wrote a famous column, "Our Landlady". Baum's description of Kansas in The Wonderful Wizard of Oz is based on his experiences in drought-ridden South Dakota.



Later, Baum wrote The Wonderful Wizard of Oz and thirteen other novels based on the places and people of the Land of Oz. Several times during the development of the series, he declared that he had written his last Oz book and devoted himself to other works of fantasy fiction based in other magical lands, including The Life and Adventures of Santa Claus, The Adventures of Father Goose, and Queen Zixi of Ix. However, persuaded by popular demand, letters from children, and the failure of his new books, he returned to the series each time. All of his novels have fallen into public domain in most jurisdictions, and many are available through Project Gutenberg. His final book, Glinda of Oz was published after his death in 1919 but the Oz series was continued long after his death by other authors, notably Ruth Plumly Thompson who wrote an additional nineteen Oz books. Baum was buried in the Forest Lawn Memorial Park Cemetery, in Glendale, California.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/L._Frank_Baum

Flash! WA2K's representative from the Vatican just called with this breaking news.

> GOLF CHALLENGE
> >
> > Shortly after the Pope had apologized to the Jewish People for the
> > treatment
> > of Jews by the Catholic Church over the years Ariel Sharon, the
Prime
> > Minister
> > of Israel, sent a proposal to the College of Cardinals for a
friendly
> > game of
> > golf to be played between the two leaders or their representatives
to
> > demonstrate
> > the friendship and ecumenical spirit shared by the Catholics and
the
> > Jews.
> >
> > The Pope then met with his College of Cardinals to discuss the
proposal.
> >
> > "Your Holiness," said one of the Cardinals, "Mr. Sharon wants to
> > challenge
> > you to a game of golf to show that you are old and unable to
compete.
> > I am afraid that this would tarnish our image in the world."
> >
> > The Pope thought about this and since he had never held a golf club
in
> > his
> > life asked "Don't we have a Cardinal to represent me?"
> >
> > "None who plays golf very well," a Cardinal replied. "But," he
added,
> > "there
> > is a man named Jack Nicklaus, an American golfer, who is a devout
> > Catholic.
> >
> > We can offer to make him a Cardinal, and then ask him to play Mr.
Sharon
> > as
> > your personal representative. In addition to showing our spirit of
> > cooperation,
> > we will also win the match."
> >
> > Everyone agreed that this was a great idea. The call was made. Of
course,
> > Nicklaus was honoured and he agreed to play as a representative of
the
> > Pope.
> >
> > The day after the match, Nicklaus reported to the Vatican to inform
the
> > Pope
> > of the result. "This is Cardinal Nicklaus. I have some good news
and
some
> > bad
> > news, Holiness," said the golfer.
> >
> > Tell me the good news, Cardinal Nicklaus," said the Pope.
> >
> > "Well, Your Holiness, I don't like to brag, but even though I have
played
> > some pretty terrific rounds of golf in my life, this was the best I
have
> > ever
> > played, by far. I must have been inspired from above. My drives
were
long
> > and
> > true, my irons were accurate and purposeful, and my putting was
perfect.
> > With all due respect, my play was truly miraculous.
> >
> > "How can there be bad news?" the Pope asked.
> >
> > Nicklaus sighed "I lost by three strokes to Rabbi Tiger Woods.