WA2K Radio is now on the air

Very sad about Jimmy Griffin. He was only 61. Jimmy's on the far right.

Jimmy founded the group "Bread" and wrote several of their songs.

Ah, Raggedy pictures are forever, are they not?

Here's something that I found that I have been searching for:


NONE BUT THE LONELY HEART
Pyotr Tchaikovsky
(based on a poem by J.W. von Goethe)


None but the lonely heart
Can know my sadness
Alone and parted
Far from joy and gladness
Heaven's boundless arch I see
Spread about above me
O what a distance dear to one
Who loves me
None but the lonely heart
Can know my sadness
Alone and parted
Far from joy and gladness
Alone and parted far
From joy and gladness
My senses fail
A burning fire
Devours me
None but the lonely heart
Can know my sadness

It's maddening to be able to hear the music and not know the classical reference, listeners.

Memo from the WA2K Corrections & Retractions desk: Dr Livingstone died in 1873. Schweitzer was born in 1875, so it is unlikely, I presume, that they ever met. So who did find Dr L? I know the answer but I just can't think of it right now.

A Mr Stanley. Was he not an American? I can't remember, but I think so.

"Doctor Livingston, I presume."

Thanks, Mctag. You are correct. I would have woken up at 3 am tonight and stewed over that for an hour or so. Back to the music! -johnboy

Oops, sorry, for that misinformation, listeners, and a special thanks to McTag and John of Virginia for their editing.

I don't know everything, it appears.

Actually, folks. I was just seeing if these guys in the studio knew about the Amazon. My way of keeping them on their toes.

Henry Morton Stanley found Livingston if memory serves.

Actually, edgar. I was talking about the Stanley Steamer or if that doesn't work, Stanley Laurel.

Socratic Letty apologizes, drinks hemlock and dies.

Memories, pressed between the pages of my mind
Memories, sweetened thru the ages just like wine

Quiet thoughts come floating down
And settle softly to the ground
Like golden autumn leaves around my feet
I touched them and they burst apart with sweet memories,
Sweet memories

Of holding hands and red bouquets
And twilight trimmed in purple haze
And laughing eyes and simple ways
And quiet nights and gentle days with you

Memories, pressed between the pages of my mind
Memories, sweetened thru the ages just like wine,
Memories, memories, sweet memories

Without looking it up, who sang that?

Aaah. Mac Davis wrote it, but Elvis made it popular.

Heh! Heh! Raggedy, I knew that you would know. I was trying to trip up those two men who tackled me before I reached the goal line.

Ahem, listeners, A slight altercation among our staff, but we're all soul mates here.

Now a little diversion. From the Four Freshmen to the Beach Boys to the Letterman. Name those tunes.

and before I go to bed, I must share this song that never made it.

Dedicated to Msolga:

Would You Rather Be A Colonel With An Eagle On Your Shoulder Or A Private With A Chicken On Your Knee?

First Verse:
Once I heard a father ask his soldier son,
"Why can't you advance like the other boys have done?
You've been a private mighty long,
Won't you tell me what is wrong?"
And then the soldier lad
Said, "Listen to me, Dad":

First Chorus:
"I'd rather be a private than a colonel in the Army,
A private has more fun,
When his day's work is done;
And when he goes on hikes,
In ev'ry town he strikes
Girls discover him
And just smother him
With things he likes.
But girlies act so shy
When colonel passes by,
He holds his head so high with dignity;
So would you rather be a colonel with an eagle on your shoulder
Or a private with a chicken on your knee?"

Second Verse:
Ev'ry night you find some private in the park,
Spooning on a bench where it is nice and dark:
He's just as happy as can be
With his girlie on his knee,
But colonel never dares
To mix in such affairs:

Second Chorus:
"I'd rather be a private than a colonel in the Army,
A colonel out in France
Can never take a chance,
For though his job is great,
He dare not make a date;
All that he can do Is just parley-voo
Then hesitate;
But privates meet the ma,
And then they treat the pa,
And then they 'oo-la-la' with 'wee Marie';
So would you rather be a colonel with an eagle on your shoulder
Or a private with a chicken on your knee?"



















--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

How 'Ya Gonna Keep 'Em Down on the Farm
(After They've Seen Paree)

Reuben, Reuben, I've been thinking
Said his wifey dear
Now that all is peaceful and calm
The boys will soon be back on the farm
Mister Reuben started winking and slowly rubbed his chin
He pulled his chair up close to mother
And he asked her with a grin

Chorus (sung twice after each verse):
How ya gonna keep 'em down on the farm
After they've seen Paree'
How ya gonna keep 'em away from Broadway
Jazzin around and paintin' the town
How ya gonna keep 'em away from harm, that's a mystery
They'll never want to see a rake or plow
And who the deuce can parleyvous a cow?
How ya gonna keep 'em down on the farm
After they've seen Paree'

Rueben, Rueben, you're mistaken
Said his wifey dear
Once a farmer, always a jay
And farmers always stick to the hay
Mother Reuben, I'm not fakin
Tho you may think it strange
But wine and women play the mischief
With a boy who's loose with change

Chorus (sung twice after each verse):
How ya gonna keep 'em down on the farm
After they've seen Paree'
How ya gonna keep 'em away from Broadway
Jazzin around and paintin' the town
How ya gonna keep 'em away from harm, that's a mystery
Imagine Reuben when he meets his Pa
He'll kiss his cheek and holler "OO-LA-LA!
How ya gonna keep 'em down on the farm
After they've seen Paree'?

De riddum of that colonel-eagle-private-chicken line reminded me of

"How can you believe me when I said I loved ya
When you know I've been a liar all my life...?"

Judy Garland, among many others.

There's a guy works down the chipshop swears his Elvis
Just like you swore to me that you'd be true
There's a guy works down the chipshop swears his Elvis
Well he's a big liar
and I'm not sure about you.

Good Day all.
Celebrity Birthday time. Born this 15th day of January:

1909 Gene Krupa, drummer/bandleader (Chicago, IL; died 1973)
1918 Gamel Abdel Nasser, Egyptian president (Egypt; died 1970)
1929 Martin Luther King Jr., civil rights leader (Atlanta, GA; died 1968)
1937 Margaret O'Brien, actress (San Diego, CA)
1947 Andrea Martin, actress (Portland, ME)
1951 Charo, singer/actress (Murcia, Spain)
1957 Mario Van Peebles, actor (Mexico City, Mexico)
1958 Julian Sands, actor (Yorkshire, England)
1968 Chad Lowe, actor (Dayton, OH)

Happy 68th Margaret O'Brien:



Remembering:

Good morning, WA2K radio listeners.

WWI songs were funny and yet depictive of the times. Loved the Paree song, edgar.

We would like to welcome smorgs to our studio and hope that she sticks around.

Here's an interesting item about the Brits' Bard:

http://story.news.yahoo.com/news?tmpl=story&cid=97&ncid=97&e=10&u=/hsn/20050115/hl_hsn/vdornotvd

McTag and Smorgs, thanks for that brief humour. One of the most cleverly done WWI songs is reflective in the following by Irving Berlin:






Oh! How I Hate to Get Up In The Morning
Words and music by Irving Berlin
© Copyright 1918 by Irving Berlin
© Copyright Renewed
International Copyright Secured
All Rights Reserved

MIDI sequencing provided by Melody Lane


"Oh! How I Hate To Get Up In The Morning,
Oh! How I'd love to remain in bed
For the hardest blow of all is to hear the bugler call:
'You've got to get up, you've got to get up,
You've got to get up this morning!'"

Someday I'm going to murder the bugler
Someday they're going to find him dead
I'll amputate his reveille and stomp upon it heavily
And spend the rest of my life in bed!

A bugler in the army is the luckiest of men
He wakes the boys at five and then goes back to bed again
He doesn't have to blow again until the afternoon
If ev'rything goes well with me I'll be a bugler soon!

"Oh! How I Hate To Get Up In The Morning,
Oh! How I'd love to remain in bed
For the hardest blow of all is to hear the bugler call:
'You've got to get up, you've got to get up,
You've got to get up this morning!'"

Oh, boy! The minute the battle is over
Oh, boy! The minute the foe is dead
I'll put my uniform away and move to Philadelphia
And spend the rest of my life in bed!

Raggedy, that was perfect timing. Judy Garland and Margaret O'Brien really bring back latent memories. Cannot believe that little Maggie is still with us. Marvelous job, as always, Raggedy.

As I wondered round the world so lost and angry,
He called me home and reached out for my hand,
He spoke with words that sounded more like music,
The words my heart could finally understand.

He showed me pride and said I could feel better,
But no better than the smallest of the small,
He showed me victories where no one loses,
He showed me the answer for us all.

And the song I sing,
I sing for you, sweet Martin Luther King,
And the song I sing,
I sing for you, sweet Martin Luther King,

And as we walked the people gathered round him,
Open arms the only weapons that they bore,
He wore us into cloth of many colors,
And armed with love he marched us off to war.

And the song I sing,
I sing for you, sweet Martin Luther King,
And the song I sing,
I sing for you, sweet Martin Luther King.

The more he spoke of love the more they feared him,
The more he spoke the truth their lies would grow,
Then suddenly with no good-byes we lost him,
My sweet black prince of peace,
I miss you so

They cut his dreams down thinking they would not flower,
But he planted seeds everywhere he'd gone
So that someday in an endless field of colors,
A million dreams would bloom to carry on.

And the song I sing.
I sing for you, sweet Martin Luther King,
And the song I sing,
I sing for You, sweet Martin Luther King,

And the song I sing,
I sing for you, sweet Martin Luther King,
And the song I sing,
I sing for you, my sweet prince of peace,
My sweet prince of peace.

edgar, so dear those words. I keep thinking of proper tributes to those who fell at the hands of some misguided person or persons:



Has anybody here seen my old friend Abraham?
Can you tell me where he's gone?
He freed a lot of people but it seems the good die young
I just looked around and he's gone.

Has anybody here seen my old friend Martin?
Can you tell me where he's gone?
He freed a lot of people but it seems the good die young
I just looked around and he's gone.

Has anybody here seen my old friend John?
Can you tell me where he's gone?
He freed a lot of people but it seems the good die young
I just looked around and he's gone.

Didn't you love the things they stood for?
Didn't they try to find some good in you and me?
And we'll be free
Someday soon
It's gonna be one day

Has anybody here seen my old friend Bobby?
Can you tell me where he's gone?
I thought I saw him walking up o'er the hill
With Abraham, Martin and John


Background: Abraham, Martin, and John The song Abraham, Martin and John was written in 1968. Words & Lyrics by: Dion Demucii Arranged by: Richard Holler.

Folks, it's not just Americans who have been numbed by assassination. The world at large has suffered wounds by those who simply don't get it.

One of my favorites from WWII

Over the dim-lit flare path an anxious silence reigns
Scanning the blue horizon our anxious eyes were strained
The radio sets were humming and waiting for a word
When a voice broke through that humming and this is what they heard

Coming in on a wing and a prayer,
Coming in on a wing and a prayer,
Though we've one motor gone, we can still carry on,
Coming in on a wing and a prayer.
What a show -
What a fight -
Yes we really hit our target for tonight,
How we sing as we limp through the air,
Look below there's our field over there,
With a full crew on board and our trust in the Lord,
We're coming in on a wing and a prayer.

Listening, watching, hoping, was all that we could do,
Waiting for J for JIMMY and all the gallant crew,
When over our longing vision a dim grey shadow fell,
And like music came the message that told us all was well.