WA2K Radio is now on the air

Francis, honey. Why am I not surprised that you know Parada <smile> Powerful art, no?

McTag. I don't think that there's a soul alive who does not remember Ari and Jackie O. and her having been cut from his will. As for Winston and his lady, the tales they tell of his mother are something else. Hey, you Brits don't all have a stiff upper lip.

My word, CJ. I need to check out Winnie's parrot link. The only birds that we ever had were African finches and a blue jay that we rescued after it was kicked out of the nest. It died.

My Gawd, listeners. The sky suddenly turned into a black mass of ominous swelling and lightning dwelling behind the clouds.

Later all. It's wonderful to have you all here and exchanging great stuff on our radio station.

Big hugs and a light kiss to all.

Jackson Browne
Doctor, my eyes have seen the years
Through the slow parade of tears without crying
Now I want to understand
I have done all that I could
To see the evil and the good without hiding
You must help me if you can

Doctor my eyes
Tell me what is wrong
Was I unwise to leave them open for so long?

As I've wandered through this world
As each moment has unfurled
I've been waiting to awaken from this dream
People go just where they will
I never notice them until I've got this feeling
That it's later than it seems

Doctor my eyes
Tell me what is real
I hear their cries
Just saying "It's too late for me"

GUITAR SOLO

Doctor my eyes
Cannot be disguised
Is this the prize for having learned how not to cry?

The storm has passed, folks, and I just got a chance to look at CJ's link about Charlie the Macaw. Whether the parrot belonged to Winston or not, is not the issue. The fact that it makes a wonderful story is, indeed, delightful. I can just imagine the stream of invectives and laugh thinking about it. Wasn't Churchill the one who created the idea of "...shoot the messenger..."?

Ah, edgar. I love that song. Been a while since I heard it. My mouse has been going crazy, folks. Maybe it senses the presence of bermbits' cat<smile>.

Well, listeners. We go from eyes--to his eye is on the sparrow--to:








Sparrow in the Treetop
Sparrow in the treetop, sparrow in the treetop,
Though he loves his mate,
Sparrow in the treetop, sparrow in the treetop,
Scared of goin' home because it's too darn late
Don't look at me, sweetheart, with scorn in your eyes,
Been out all night, gonna tell you no lies,
Stopped in one place, heard them singin' a song,
(Heard them singin' a song)
Like a lonely sparrow, started singin' along

Just singin'
Sparrow in the treetop, sparrow in the treetop,
Though he loves his mate,
Sparrow in the treetop, sparrow in the treetop,
Scared of goin' home because it's too darn late

In walked a blonde and, dear, she asked me to dance,
I told that blonde that there wasn't a chance,
I love my kids and my beautiful wife,
(And my beautiful wife)
That's the honest truth, dear, and I swear by my life

Just singin'
Sparrow in the treetop, sparrow in the treetop,
Though he loves his mate,
Sparrow in the treetop, sparrow in the treetop,
Scared of goin' home because it's too darn late

(In the tavern, all night sittin' in the tavern,
In the tavern singin' songs)

There's things I am sweetheart, and things that I ain't,
'cause I'm a man and a man is no saint,
Won't you forgive 'cause I'm tellin' you true,
'cause I'm tellin' you true
I was in the tavern only thinkin' of you

Just singin'
Sparrow in the treetop, sparrow in the treetop,
Though he loves his mate,
Sparrow in the treetop, sparrow in the treetop,
Scared of goin' home because it's too darn late

Don't we love it, folks? Audubon would be sooooo envious

and as the birds tuck their heads under their wings in sleep, so must Letty.

My goodnight song to all of you here, and another memory:

Artist: k.d. lang Lyrics
Song: Deep In A Dream Lyrics




I dim all the lights
And I sink in my chair
The smoke from my cigarette
Climbs through the air
The walls in my room
Fade away in a gloom
And I'm deep in a dream of you

Smoke makes a stairway
For you to descend
You come to my arms
May this bliss never end
We'll love and move
Just like we used to do
And I'm deep in a dream of you

And from the ceiling
Sweet music comes stealing
We glide through a lover's refrain
You're so appealing
And I'm soon revealing
My love for you over again

A cigarette burns me I wake with a start
My hand doesn't hurt but there's pain in my heart
Awake or asleep every memory I'll keep
Deep in a dream of you

From Letty with love

Time for sleep, time to go to bed
The sun is lying down upon a deep cloud of red
Shut your drowsy eyes and count the sheep, sleepy head
One star is shyly peeping, goodnight it's time for sleeping

Sleep my little one
Dream your dreams in my arms safely curled
Dream of joy and of laughter and fun
Small one it's such a big world
May your heart never ache

Big world don't make his heart break
Sleep little one and dream

Love Calls You By Your Name
You thought that it could never happen
to all the people that you became,
your body lost in legend, the beast so very tame.
But here, right here,
between the birthmark and the stain,
between the ocean and your open vein,
between the snowman and the rain,
once again, once again,
love calls you by your name.
The women in your scrapbook
whom you still praise and blame,
you say they chained you to your fingernails
and you climb the halls of fame.
Oh but here, right here,
between the peanuts and the cage,
between the darkness and the stage,
between the hour and the age,
once again, once again,
love calls you by your name.

Shouldering your loneliness
like a gun that you will not learn to aim,
you stumble into this movie house,
then you climb, you climb into the frame.
Yes, and here, right here
between the moonlight and the lane,
between the tunnel and the train,
between the victim and his stain,
once again, once again,
love calls you by your name.

I leave the lady meditating
on the very love which I, I do not wish to claim,
I journey down the hundred steps,
but the street is still the very same.
And here, right here,
between the dancer and his cane,
between the sailboat and the drain,
between the newsreel and your tiny pain,
once again, once again,
love calls you by your name.

Where are you, Judy, where are you, Anne?
Where are the paths your heroes came?
Wondering out loud as the bandage pulls away,
was I, was I only limping, was I really lame?
Oh here, come over here,
between the windmill and the grain,
between the sundial and the chain,
between the traitor and her pain,
once again, once again,
love calls you by your name.

Good morning, WA2K radio and fans.

edgar, your goodnight song from last evening was lovely. It must have worked because after watching Monk, I fell asleep quickly.

I also like the idea in your song, "...love calls you by your name....".

It is still dark here, listeners, and so very quiet that it's almost eerie.

My goodnight song was a memory of Paul, who was among one of the finest piano players that I have ever heard, and this matin is also a tribute to him:

WHAT'LL I DO
Irving Berlin, Irving Berlin Inc. ASCAP
Gone is the romance that was so divine
It's broken and cannot be mended
You will go your way and I will go mine
And now that our love dream has ended

What'll I do when you are far away
And I am blue
What'll I do

What'll I do when I am wondering who
Is kissing you
What'll I do

What'll I do with just a photograph
To tell my troubles to

When I'm alone with only dreams of you
That won't come true
What'll I do

What'll I do with just a photograph
To tell my troubles to

When I'm alone with only dreams of you
That won't come true
What'll I do
What'll I do
What'll I do
What'll I do.

That's a simple song, folks, but has some of the most beautiful chord changes that I have ever heard. Often, one becomes enured to music after a bit, and then there is something that sets off a wind chime in your mind, and everything seems fresh and new.

It's refreshing to hear good vocalists such as Michael Bubles; KD Lang and Diana Krall bring the beauty back into faded manuscripts.

Very poetic, Letty. You are the poetess of the ether.

Also, you are up very late, or very early. Fraternal greetings from old England.

Well, folks. There's our Brit back with a nice compliment for Letty. Thank you McTag. It's 6:20 here, Manchester, and how is our vagrant gypsy today?<smile>

From the archives and for you:

-
Max Welton's braes are bonnie
Where early falls the dew
And 'twas there that Annie Laurie
Gave me her promise true.
2. Gave me her promise true
That ne'er forgot shall be
And for Bonnie Annie Laurie
I'd lay me doon and dee.

3. Her brow is like the snowdrift
Her nape is like the swan
And her face it is the fairest
That 'ere the sun shone on.
4. That 'ere the sun shone on
And dark blue is her E'e
And for Bonnie Annie Laurie
I'd lay me doon and dee.
5. Like the dew on the Gowan Lion
Is the fall of her fairy feet
And like winds in the summer sighing
Her voice is low and sweet.

6. Her voice is low and sweet
And she's all the world to me
And for Bonnie Annie Laurie
I'd lay me doon and dee.

The sun is not yet on Florida.

look here

Ah, the dark side of the planet, and a greeting to Francis, listeners.

Actually, the sun is tinting the sky with a shade of light blue, and there is not even a small breeze ruffling the palms. Last evening, there must have been a rather strong wind, however, as palm fronds are everywhere.

Does Francis have any requests today?

A very difficult one, Miss Letty:

Lunnaya Tropa by Alsu.

Lunnaya Tropa by Alsu? But of course, Francis. Coming right up. <smile>

Paul Anka
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia.

Paul Anka receiving the Order of Canada from Governor General Adrienne Clarkson in a ceremony performed at Rideau Hall on Friday, June 10, 2005.
Enlarge
Paul Anka recieving the Order of Canada from Governor General Adrienne Clarkson in a ceremony performed at Rideau Hall on Friday, June 10, 2005.

Paul Anka OC (born July 30, 1941, in Ottawa, Ontario, Canada) is a Canadian-American singer and songwriter.

Anka began singing as a child and, encouraged by his parents, at age 14 he recorded his first single, "I Confess." In 1957 he went to New York City where he auditioned for ABC, singing a lovestruck verse he had written to a former babysitter, Diana Ayoub. The song, "Diana," brought Anka instant stardom as it rocketed to number one on the charts. "Diana" is one of the best selling 45s in music history. He followed up with four songs that made it into the Top 20 in 1958, making him one of the biggest teen idols of the time. He toured Britain and then, with Buddy Holly, toured Australia.

His talent went beyond singing, writing Buddy Holly's giant hit, "It Doesn't Matter Anymore," the theme for Johnny Carson's Tonight Show, Tom Jones' biggest hit record, "She's A Lady", and "My Way," Frank Sinatra's signature song.

In the 1960s, Anka would begin acting in motion pictures as well as writing songs for them, most notably the theme for the hit movie The Longest Day. From his movie work, he wrote and recorded his monster hit, "Lonely Boy." He then went on to become one of the first pop singers to perform at the Las Vegas casinos.

After more than ten years without a hit record, in 1974 he teamed up with Odia Coates to record the number 1 hit, "Having My Baby." They would record two more duets that both made it into the Top 10. In 1975, he wrote a jingle for Kodak called The Times of Your Life. The jingle became so popular, he recorded it as a full song, and it became a hit.

By the 1970s, Anka's career centered around adult contemporary and big-band standards, played regularly in Las Vegas. On September 6, 1990, he became a naturalized citizen of the United States. He returned to his home town to buy a part of the Ottawa Senators hockey team.

Born to parents of Lebanese origin, in 1999 he returned to Lebanon for sell-out performances at the Forum de Beyrouth (The Beirut Forum).

Paul Anka was elected to the Canadian Music Hall of Fame in 1980. He has a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame at 6840 Hollywood Blvd. In 1991, the Government of France honored him with the title "Chevalier in the Order of Arts and Letters". He was appointed an officer of the Order of Canada in 2005.

He was married to Anne DeZogheb from 1963 to 2000. They have five daughters: Amelia, Anthea, Alicia, Amanda (who is married to actor Jason Bateman), and Alexandra.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paul_Anka

Frank Sinatra

My Way Lyrics

(P. Anka, J. Revaux, G. Thibault, C. Frankois)

[Recorded December 30, 1968, Hollywod]

And now, the end is here
And so I face the final curtain
My friend, I'll say it clear
I'll state my case, of which I'm certain
I've lived a life that's full
I traveled each and ev'ry highway
And more, much more than this, I did it my way

Regrets, I've had a few
But then again, too few to mention
I did what I had to do and saw it through without exemption
I planned each charted course, each careful step along the byway
And more, much more than this, I did it my way

Yes, there were times, I'm sure you knew
When I bit off more than I could chew
But through it all, when there was doubt
I ate it up and spit it out
I faced it all and I stood tall and did it my way

I've loved, I've laughed and cried
I've had my fill, my share of losing
And now, as tears subside, I find it all so amusing
To think I did all that
And may I say, not in a shy way,
"Oh, no, oh, no, not me, I did it my way"

For what is a man, what has he got?
If not himself, then he has naught
To say the things he truly feels and not the words of one who kneels
The record shows I took the blows and did it my way!

[instrumental]

Yes, it was my way

Emily Brontë
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia.


Emily Jane Brontë (July 30, 1818 - December 19, 1848) was a British novelist and poet, best remembered for her one novel Wuthering Heights, an acknowledged classic of English literature.

Emily was born at Thornton in Yorkshire, the younger sister of Charlotte Brontë and the fifth of six children. In 1820, the family moved to Haworth, where Emily's father was perpetual curate, and it was in these surroundings that their literary talent flourished. In childhood, after the death of their mother, the three sisters and their brother Branwell created imaginary lands (Angria, Gondal, Gaaldine), which featured in stories they wrote. Little of Emily's work from this period survives, except for poems spoken by characters (The Brontës' Web of Childhood, Fannie Ratchford, 1941).

In 1838, Emily commenced work as a governess at Law Hill, near Halifax. Later, with her sister Charlotte, she attended a private school in Brussels.

It was the discovery of Emily's poetic talent by her family that led her and her sisters, Charlotte and Anne, to publish a joint collection of their poetry in 1846. Owing to the prejudices on female writers, all three used male pseudonyms, Emily's being "Ellis Bell".

She subsequently published her only novel, Wuthering Heights, in 1847 - a powerful, poetic work, but whose innovative structure somewhat puzzled critics. Although it received mixed reviews when it first came out, the book subsequently became an English literary classic.

Like her sisters, Emily's constitution had been weakened by their harsh life at home and at school. She died on December 19, 1848 of tuberculosis, having caught a chill during the funeral of her brother in September, and was interred in the Church of St. Michael and All Angels Cemetery, Haworth, West Yorkshire, England.

Emily was a woman of remarkable force of character, reserved and taciturn.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Emily_Bront%C3%AB

er, Francis, will you settle for Bon Jovi? I understand that Alsou was a fan:

JON BON JOVI - Living On A Prayer Lyrics
Once upon a time not so long ago:
Tommy used to work on the docks
union's been on strike

He's down on his luck - It's tough
so tough.
Gina works the diner all day
working for her man

She brings home her pay for love
for love.

She says: We've got to hold on to what we've got
'Cause it doesn't make a difference if we make it or not.
We've got each other and that's a lot for love -
We'll give it a shot.

We're half way there - Livin' on a prayer

Take my hand and we'll make it
I swear - livin' on a prayer.

Tommy got his six string in hock.
Now he's holding in what he used to make it talk -
So tough
it's tough.
Gina dreams of running away
when she cries in the night
Tommy whispers: Baby
it's okay
someday.

We've got to hold on to what we've got . . .
We're half way there - Livin' on a prayer
. . .

We've got to hold on ready or not

You live for the fight when it's all that you've got.

We're half way there - Livin' on a prayer
. . .
We're half way there - Livin' on a prayer
. . .
We're half way there - Livin' on a prayer
. . .

Good morning, Bob. Thanks for the bios and songs, Boston.

Well, listeners, silence from Francis means assent I suppose.

Bob, I had no idea that Paul Anka was so admired and respected for his music. Our listeners always appreciate your background information, and of course, most of us now know that old blue eyes did it his way.

I'm certain that our Raggedy will appreciate the info on the Bronte sisters. Now how did I know that? Very simple--she is a hopeless romantic. <smile>

Well, listeners, silence from Francis means assent I suppose.

Bob, I had no idea that Paul Anka was so admired and respected for his music. Our listeners always appreciate your background information, and of course, most of us now know that old blue eyes did it his way.

I'm certain that our Raggedy will appreciate the info on the Bronte sisters. Now how did I know that? Very simple--she is a hopeless romantic. <smile>

oops. Everything seems to be in double vision. Either it's our equipment or the hamster is sluggish today.