WA2K Radio is now on the air

Speaking of medium, folks. Mine just sent me a telepathic message saying that Darwin requested BBB's song.

Thank you, dear. Interesting monkey song.

Letty


Glad you liked it. I think I recognized some relatives.

BBB

Well, listeners. No one appears interested in the demise of labor unions in France, so here's a little bit of history that you might find intriguing:

Matewan



Matewan in Mingo County, W.Va., has intrigued visitors and inspired folklore for over one hundred years. In the 1880s, the feud between the Hatfields and McCoys raged near Matewan. Forty years later, the town was the scene of a fatal conflict between mine workers and coal operators.

On election day, August 7, 1882, three sons of Randolph McCoy brutally stabbed and shot Ellison Hatfield, brother of Devil Anse Hatfield, in Pike County, Ky. Ellison was carried across the Tug Fork River and died at the Anderson Ferrell House. After Ellison died, Devil Anse executed the three McCoys across the Tug in Kentucky, near present-day Matewan.

No one knows what triggered the murder of Ellison, but these tragic events brought a notoriety to the Tug Fork Valley which made national headlines and created a violent image of Appalachian West Virginia and Kentucky. Kentucky bounty hunters made raids into West Virginia to capture the Hatfields during the 1880s, and the Hatfields retaliated in 1888 by attacking the McCoy homestead in Kentucky, killing a son and daughter and seriously wounding Randolph's wife. By 1890 the killings had ended, but the feud continued to be sensationalized by journalists for years to come.

Located on the Tug Fork of the Big Sandy River, Matewan was founded in 1895 when the Norfolk and Western Railway entered the valley to open the Williamson coal field.

As a stop on the N&W's main line, the town supplied goods to the surrounding mining communities. The critically acclaimed movie, Matewan, released in 1987 by film maker John Sayles, has brought nationwide attention to the town's fascinating story, promoting an understanding of West Virginia's turbulent past.

Now a National Historic Landmark, Matewan is well known as the site of a bloody confrontation between townspeople, miners and mine company detectives on May 19, 1920. At that time the United Mine Workers of America were attempting to organize the area's coal miners, but those who joined were fired and evicted from their company-owned homes.

In town near the railroad tracks, Chief of Police Sid Hatfield and Mayor Cable Testerman encountered Baldwin-Felts detectives who had been hired to evict miners. After an argument, shots were fired leaving the mayor, seven detectives and two miners dead. Sid Hatfield emerged as a hero for the miners but was gunned down by retaliating detectives a year later on the McDowell County Courthouse steps in Welch. Union activist Ed Chambers was killed along with Sid. Their deaths triggered many disturbances, including the armed march of miners through the southern coal fields, culminating in the showdown at Blair Mountain in Logan County between miners, operators and federal forces.

An audio presentation of the battle of Matewan can be heard by pushing a button on the wall of the old post office, directly behind the old Matewan Bank building. The 15-minute presentation mixes narrative eyewitness accounts and sound effects to tell the story of what happened in Matewan in the spring of 1920.

Also of interest is the floodwall surrounding the downtown historic district. Completed in 1996 by the United States Army Corps of Engineers, the Matewan Floodwall contains monolithic images poured into the concrete wall depicting a time line of Matewan's history. A walking path along the river allows visitors to view both the floodwall graphics and the scenic Tug River as it sweeps along the West Virginia/Kentucky border.





© Copyright 2005 Williamson Daily News

song to follow.

Well, the cell phones have been playing Fur Elise to let me know about incoming calls wanting to hear the song, so:



[D] Gather 'round me children and I'll [A7] tell a [D] story
Of the mountains and the days when guns was [A7] law
When two [D] fam'lies got to feudin'
It was [G] bound to end in shootin'
So just [D] listen close, I'll [A7] tell you what I [D] saw.

Oh, the [G] Hatfields and the Coys they were [D] reckless mountain boys
And they took up family feudin' when they'd [A7] meet
They would [D] shoot each other quicker
Than it [G] took your eye to flicker
They could [D] knock a squirrel's eye [A7] out at ninety [D] feet.

All this fightin' started out one sunday morning
When old grandpa Coy was full of mountain dew
Just as quite as a churchmouse, he stole in the Hatfield's henhouse
Cause the Coys they needed eggs for breakfast, too.

Oh, The Hatfields and the Coys, they were reckless mountain boys
Coz old grandpa Coy's gone where angels live
When they found him on the mountain
He was bleedin' like a fountain
Cause they punctured him 'til he looked like a sieve.

After that they started out to fight in earnest
And they scarred the mountains up with shot and shell
There was uncles, brothers, cousins
Why they bumped them off by dozens
Just how many bit the dust is hard to tell.

Oh, The Hatfields and the Coys, they were reckless mountain boys
At the art of killin' they become quite deft
They all know'd they shouldn't do it
But before they hardly knew it
On each side they only had one person left.

Now the sole remainin' Hatfield was a maiden
And as purty as a picture was this Grace
While the one survivin' boy was the handsome Henry Coy
And the folks all knew they'd soon meet face to face.

Oh, The Hatfields and the Coys, they were reckless mountain boys
But their shootin' and their killin' sure played [hob]
And it didn't bring no joy to know that Grace and Henry Coy
Both had sworn that they would finish up the job.

So, they finally met upon a mountain pathway
And young Henry Coy he aimed his gun at Grace
He was set to pull the trigger, when he saw her purty figure
You could see that love had kicked him in the face.

Oh, The Hatfields and the Coys, they were reckless mountain boys
But they say their ghostly cussin' gives them chills
But the hatchet sure was buried, when sweet Grace and Henry married
It broke up the best durn feud in these here hills.

You may think this is where the story ended
But I'm tellin' you the ghosts don't cuss no more
Cause since Grace and Henry wedded
They fight worse than all the rest did
And they carry on the feud just like before.

here's a tin pan alley interpretation of this theme:

Feudin' and fussin' and a-fightin,'
Sometimes it gets to be excitin,'
Don't like them ornery neighbors down by the creek,
We'll be plumb out of neighbors next week.
Grandma, poor ol' grandma,
Why'd they have to shoot poor grandma.
She lies 'neath the clover
Someone caught her bending over
Pickin' up a daisy!
Feduin' and fussin' and a-fightin'
This is a wrong that needs a rightin,'
Let's get that funeral service over
So then we can start in a-feudin' again.

Feudin' and fightin' and a-fussin,'
That's all that's goin' on with us'n.
We are such neighborly people peaceful and sweet,
All except when we happen to meet.
Daughter, baby daughter,
Poisened all the neighbors chickens.
Daughter hadn't oughter
Least 'till she could run like the dickens.
They hit her with a shovel!
Feudin' and fightin' and a-fussin'
No use a-standin' here a-cussin,'
Let's give our daughter a pistol now that she's four
And go feudin' and fightin' some more.

You know, Yit. When I was a kid, I'll bet I read Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn five times each. In Huck Finn, there was a segment about a feud that was going on, and depicts the foolishness of such things, but I can't remember the details right now. Thanks, turtle man, for that song. It was a perfect segway.

It's a shame that unions have demolished the very thing that was their godsend. Ah, well, listeners. That's the way of such things, I reckon.

Just in case our audience has forgotten the term "segway" it means going from one song into another in rapid fashion.

Well, the Europeans have been rather silent. Probably because they never experienced any feuds.

My cellphone plays- wouldn't you just know it- "Scotland the Brave", very loudly. Can be embarrassing, sometimes. But I wouldn't like Fuer Elise, I don't think.

Monkeys? Well, I'm the king of the swingers
The jungle V I P
I've reached the top, and it's time to stop,
And that's what's bothering me.
I wanna be a man, man-cub
And stroll right into town
And be just like the other dudes
I'm tired of monkeying around.

I'll ape your man-erisms
We'll be a set of twins
No-one will know where man-cub ends
And orang-utan begins
And when I eat bananas
I won't peel them with my feet
Can't remember the next bit
And learn some etiqueet

"...this successful life we're livin'
Got us feudin' like the Hatfields and McCoys.."

-Luckenbach, Texas
Waylon Jennings (1977)

McTag, you are funny. What happened to soccer, Brit? Hey, Walter would love Fur Elise! But he's all tied up on a reservation.

Here's a soccer song from Manchester:

MANCHESTER CITY

Thanks to:
- Christian King



We all follow the City
over land and sea and stretford
we all follow the city
on to victory

we are not were not really here
we are not were not really here
just like the fans of the invisible man
were not really here

you are my CITY
my only CITY
you make me happy
when skys are grey
you'll never know just
how much I love you
so please dont take my City away

jingle bell, jingle bells jingle all the way
oh what fun it is to see the City win away

oh when the blues go marchin in
oh when the blues go marchin in
I want to be in that number
oh when the blues go marching in

I said Blue Moon
I saw you standing alone
without adream in my heart
without a love of my own

in 1965 my friend, we sank into division two
the stretford end cried out ha ha that is the end of you
joe mercer came
we played the game
we went to rotherham
we won the game 2-0
and we were back into division one
since then we've won the league
we've won the cup
we've been to europe too
and won
and when we win the league this year we'll sing this song to you
CITY

I'm City till I die
I'm City till I die
I know I am
I'm sure I am
I'm City toll I die

The rest of the lyrics, listeners, were not fit to print.

Tribal football songs
Chanted like invocations
Prayers
Or curses
Hurled like weapons from the crowded terraces
Encompassing dreams
Hopes, most fervent wishes
Bloodcurdling threats
And childish silliness
Of the men-children

No, he definately wouldn't: we have a small musical box with that theme.
A couple of (godchildren) have been here during their holidays, and so I heard it thou´sand times per day for weeks :wink:

(And 'yes', I really made a reservation today, by phone and in French )

Wow! That was awesome, McTag. Where did that come from?

You know, listeners, I am continually amazed at the talent and thoughtfulness of the participants here, and in our vast audience.

How about a little change of pace, folks:

This is for all the Brits and their high tea time:




- When I Take My Sugar to Tea Lyrics

When I take my sugar to tea,
All the boys are jealous of me,
cause I never take her where the gang goes,
When I take my sugar to tea.
I?m a rowdy dowdy,
That?s me, she?s a high hat baby, that?s she,
So I never take her where the gang goes,
When I take my sugar to tea.
Every sunday afternoon,
We forget about our cares,
Rubbing elbows at the ritz,
With those millionaires.
When I take my sugar to tea,
I?m as ritzy as I can be,
?cause I never take her where the gang goes,
When I take my sugar to tea.
(musical interlude)
Every sunday afternoon,
We forget about those cares,
Rubbing elbows at the ritz,
With those zillionaires.
When I take my sugar to tea,
I?m as ritzy as I can be,
?cause I never take her where the gang goes,
When I take, take my sugar to tea.

I promise, McTag, if you will tell us the etymology of "soccer" I will go back and remove the question marks.

Walter! I missed your having come into our studio.

Folks, Walter has just taken us to the most beautiful inn, but I'll have to let him explain where it is.

Perfect timing, was it not?

It took him a "sum" of work..

... and they only spoke French!

That's a hotel at St. Valery sur Somme, situated at ... what its name says ... HOTEL DU PORT ET DES BAINS

(I'll stay there just for a couple days in early September, though.)

I replied to that last query, but my computer blew up instead of transmitting the message.

Now I've re-booted it, hope its all right.

I'm off now though, bath and bed. Night-night.

LIFE BEYOND FIFTY:



Maybe it's true that life begins at fifty.
But everything else starts to
wear out, fall out, or spread out.

There are three signs of old age.
The first is your loss of memory,
the other two I forget.

You're getting old when you don't care where your spouse goes,
just as long as you don't have to go along.

Middle age is when work is a lot less fun
and fun a lot more work.

Statistics show that at the age of seventy,
there are five women to every man.
Isn't that the darndest time for a guy to get those odds?

You know you're getting on in years
when the girls at the office start confiding in you.

Middle age is when it takes longer to rest than to get tired.

By the time a man is wise enough to watch his step,
he's too old to go anywhere.

Middle age is when
you have stopped growing at both ends,
and have begun to grow in the middle.

Of course I'm against sin; I'm against anything that I'm too old to enjoy.

Billy Graham has described heaven as
a family reunion that never ends.
What must hell possibly be like?
Home videos of the same reunion?

A man has reached middle age
when he is cautioned to slow down by his doctor
instead of by the police.

Middle age is having a choice of two temptations
and choosing the one that will get you home earlier.

You know you're into middle age when
you realize that caution is the only thing
you care to exercise.

At my age, "getting a little action" means
I don't need to take a laxative.

Don't worry about avoiding temptation.
As you grow older, it will avoid you.

You're getting old when you're sitting in a rocker
and you can't get it started.

You're getting old when
your wife gives up sex for Lent,
and you don't know until the 4th of July.

The cardiologist's diet:
if it tastes good, spit it out.

Doctor to patient: I have good news and bad news:
the good news is that you are not a hypochondriac.

It's hard to be nostalgic when you can't remember anything.

Last Will and Testament:
Being of sound mind, I spent all my money.

Well, folks. Our Francis would certainly know of which Walter speaks. <smile>

I tried to find "somme" lyrics by Somme songs by one Julian DeMato, but no luck.

Soooooo, Francis and Walter may have to settle for Fur Elise. <smile>

Any requests, boys?

I wanted to post a nice chanson, but since I watch meanwhile the videos from the Toronto aircrash, I think it's not appropriate.