WA2K Radio is now on the air

Good morning, Bob. Great bios today, especially since I was familiar with all of them. Thanks, Boston.

A question and a song:

First, the question.

What is the etymology of the word sandwich?

Now for Bob, a song about the weather from Nighthawks at the Diner:



Emotional Weather Report

late night and early morning low clouds
with a chance of fog
chance of showers into the afternoon
with variable high cloudiness
and gusty winds, gusty winds
at times around the corner of
Sunset and Alvorado
things are tough all over
when the thunder storms start
increasing over the southeast
and south central portions
of my apartment, I get upset
and a line of thunderstorms was
developing in the early morning
ahead of a slow moving coldfront
cold blooded
with tornado watches issued shortly
before noon Sunday, for the areas
including, the western region
of my mental health
and the northern portions of my
ability to deal rationally with my
disconcerted precarious emotional
situation, it's cold out there
colder than a ticket taker's smile
at the Ivar Theatre, on a Saturday night
flash flood watches covered the
southern portion of my disposition
there was no severe weather well
into the afternoon, except for a lone gust of
wind in the bedroom
in a high pressure zone, covering the eastern
portion of a small suburban community
with a 103 and millibar high pressure zone
and a weak pressure ridge extending from
my eyes down to my cheeks cause since
you left me baby
and put the vice grips on my mental health
well the extended outlook for an
indefinite period of time until you
come back to me baby is high tonight
low tomorrow, and precipitation is

But, Letty you have to answer my questions first. They're on my birthday page.

Good morning, Raggedy. Thanks, gal, for the celeb updates. First the answer to your questions:

What's a PD? I don't know. <smile>
Who wrote the poem "Peace"? I'll have to look it up again.

I was trying to recall if Teresa Wright ever did the role of Annie Sullivan in The Miracle Worker.

Well, listeners, we do have fun and serious moments on our little radio, no?

Still don't know, Raggedy, but I know this. Your timing is better than mine.

I'm pleased to hear this, Letty.

You take of yourself, too, now.

program director

oops, i just assumed everybody would know

dj(i'm not a real disc jockey, i just play one on the internet)jd62

Letty, i heard that the Earl of Sandwich one day decided to put some sliced meat between slices of bread, and presto! the sandwich was invented. but this could be a total fabrication for all i know.

Well, folks. The hamster is running on empty today, and I have lost a couple of messages, but this one is for Mr. Turtle:

You are right about the etymology of sandwich, Yit, but according to my source, the French claimed that they were first. (probably were)

WHO COOKED THAT UP?
J.J. wonders

The origin of the name "sandwich" reminds me of a favorite riddle of my brother's when he was about seven or eight years old.

"If you were stranded on a desert island, what would you eat?"
The answer: "The sand which is there."

Although the sandwich has nothing to do with sand, it still has a vague connection with island life, because the Hawai'ian Islands were once called "The Sandwich Islands." They were named for the very same person for whom the sandwich that we eat was named, John Montagu (1718-1792), the Fourth Earl of Sandwich.

The Earl was the patron of Captain James Cook (the explorer who discovered the Hawai'ian Islands) and, because he was also the First Lord of the Admiralty during the American revolutionary war, he has sometimes been blamed by the British for the loss of the American Colonies. There is a story that he was an enthusiastic gambler and when he didn't wish to leave the gaming table -- or possibly just his desk -- to go to dinner he would ask for someone to bring him some meat between a couple of slices of bread. Later, when others began asking for the same thing, they would say something like, "I'll have what Sandwich is having..." Obviously it caught on, and people just started calling for "a Sandwich" when they wanted meat between two slices of bread. The word sandwich is therefore an eponym -- a word or phrase whose origin is a person or historical figure.

If the English claim to have invented the sandwich, the French disagree, saying that long before the word sandwich came into use, it was common for workers in the field and those going on a journey to take with them meat or fish between two slices of black bread.

Today the Americans in particular pile their sandwiches high with more than just meat or fish. Stacked sandwiches may be said to have begun with the "Dagwood," named for Dagwood Bumstead, the husband of the title character in Chic Young's comic strip, "Blondie." Another kind of stacked sandwich is made in long rolls rather than square bread slices, and they are called variously "submarines," "poor boys," "heroes," and "hoagies."

The grilled cheese sandwich might be said to be a variation of a French recipe, the "Croque Monsieur," which has been around since early in the 20th century. According to the Larousse Gastronomique it is made by taking two slices of bread, buttered on one side only, with ham and cheese in the center, and frying the sandwich in clarified butter. Today it is often broiled with bechamel sauce on top. A "Croque Madame" is topped with a fried egg. Some say that the grilled cheese sandwich was further refined in San Francisco in the 1950's into what is called the "Monte Cristo." It is made by placing slices of swiss or gruyere cheese, ham and turkey between two slices of white bread, then dipped in an egg and milk batter, fried in butter, and served with a spoonful of currant jelly on the side.

The ingredients of a Club Sandwich can vary slightly from place to place, but it is invariably a three decker sandwich of toasted bread, with one layer of filling devoted to meat -- ham and/or turkey, possibly adding slices of crisp bacon -- and the other layer devoted to salad ingredients -- lettuce, tomato, avocado and/or onion slices. The origin of the name Club is thought to be either from the restaurant menu in a Country Club or from the snack bar service in a Club Car of one of the special trains that traveled from New York to Chicago in the 1930's and 1940's.

Well, listeners, we're back on the air, so let's play an oldie:

Well the south side of chicago
Is the baddest part of town
And if you go down there
You better just beware
Of a man named leroy brown

Now leroy more than trouble
You see he stand 'bout six foot four
All the downtown ladies call him treetop lover
All the mens just call him sir

And it's bad, bad leroy brown
The baddest man in the whole damn town
Badder than old king kong
And meaner than a junkyard dog

Now leroy he a gambler
And he like his fancy clothes
And he like to wave his diamond rings
In front of everybody's nose
He got a custom continental
He got an eldorado too
He got a 32 gun in his pocket for fun
He got a razor in his shoe

And it's bad, bad leroy brown
The baddest man in the whole damn town
Badder than old king kong
And meaner than a junkyard dog

Well friday bout a week ago
Leroy shootin' dice
And at the edge of the bar
Sat a girl named doris
And ooh that girl looked nice
Well he cast his eyes upon her
And the trouble soon began
And leroy brown learned a lesson
'bout messin' with the wife of a jealous man

And it's bad, bad leroy brown
The baddest man in the whole damned town
Badder than old king kong
And meaner than a junkyard dog,

Well the two men took to fightin'
And when they pulled them from the floor
Leroy looked like a jigsaw puzzle
With a couple of pieces gone

And it's bad, bad leroy brown
The baddest man in the whole damn town
Badder than old king kong
And meaner than a junkyard dog

A Slant of Sun on Dull Brown Walls


A slant of sun on dull brown walls,
A forgotten sky of bashful blue.

Toward God a mighty hymn,
A song of collisions and cries,
Rumbling wheels, hoof-beats, bells,
Welcomes, farewells, love-calls, final moans,
Voices of joy, idiocy, warning, despair,
The unknown appeals of brutes,
The chanting of flowers,
The screams of cut trees,
The senseless babble of hens and wise men --
A cluttered incoherency that says at the stars:
"O God, save us!"

Stephen Crane

FREDERICA, Del. - The apparent suicide of a woman found hanging from a tree went unreported for hours because passers-by thought the body was a Halloween decoration, authorities said.

The 42-year-old woman used rope to hang herself across the street from some homes on a moderately busy road late Tuesday or early Wednesday, state police said.

The body, suspended about 15 feet above the ground, could be easily seen from passing vehicles.

State police spokesman Cpl. Jeff Oldham and neighbors said people noticed the body at breakfast time Wednesday but dismissed it as a holiday prank. Authorities were called to the scene more than three hours later.

"They thought it was a Halloween decoration," Fay Glanden, wife of Mayor William Glanden, told The (Wilmington) News Journal.

"It looked like something somebody would have rigged up," she said.

edgar, I love Stephen Crane, buddy. "....a forgotten sky of bashful blue..." Wow! Thanks, Texas.

You know, dys, that news item puts the howl in halloween. Very tragic, cowboy.

Can't resist it, folks. Just too timely, and since Panz explained that the song was based on the woman in black who put the rose on Valentino's tomb, it's worth a replay:









Long Black Veil Lyrics (Dave Matthews Band)



Dave Matthews Band - Long Black Veil Lyrics
Ten years ago on a cold dark night
Someone was killed beneath the townhall light
There were few at the scene, but they all agreed
That the slayer who ran looked a lot like me
She walks these hills in a long black veil
She visits my grave when the night winds wail
Nobody knows, nobody sees, nobody knows but me

The judge said son, what is your aliby?
If you were somewhere else, then you wont have to die.
I said not a word, though it meant my life,
For I?d been in the arms of my best friend?s wife.
Oh, she walks these hills in a long black veil.
She visits my grave when the night winds wail.
Nobody knows, nobody sees, nobody knows but me.

Oh, now the scaffold is high, eternity is near
She stood in the crowd and shed not a tear
And sometimes at night when the cold winds blow
In a long black veil she cries over my bones.
She walks these hills in a long black veil
She visits my grave when the night winds wail
Nobody knows, nobody sees, nobody knows but me.

Oh, she walks these hills in a long black veil
She visits my grave when the night winds wail
Nobody knows, nobody sees, nobody knows but me.

Nobody knows. nobody knows, but me.
Nobody knows but me.

This is by no means related to your story, dys, but somehow...
One of my employees is trying to resolve a small issue with the IRS. Nothing serious. He got a letter asking him to fax a page of info. He fed it into my fax machine and it tried to send it for an hour or so (some sort of auto redial). He called the IRS office and after many attempts got a real person who chirped: "Our fax machine system hasn't worked for a couple of weeks now."

Hey, John of Virginia. Wonder if that fax is kin to our hamster.

Well, folks, Letty must go to bed and this song is by special request:





The Day Before You - Rascal Flatts

I had all but given up on finding
The one that I could fall into
On the day before you
I was ready settled for
Less than love and not much more
There was no such thing as a dream come true
Oh, but that was all the day before you

Now you're here and everything changes
Suddenly life means so much
I can't wait to wake up tomorrow
And find out this promise is true
I would never have to go back to
The day before you

In your eyes I see forever
Makes me wish that my life never knew
The day before you

The Heaven knows those years without you
Shaping my heart for the that day I found you
You're the reason for all that I've been through
Then I'm thankful for the day before you

Now you're here and everything changes
Suddenly life means so much
I can't wait to wake up tomorrow
And find out this promise is true
I would never have to go back to
The day before you.

From Letty with love.

Good morning, WA2K radio. This is a test. It is only a test. Should we have had a real emergency, you would have been given instructions on where to go and what to do. <smile>

News on the jazz front:



Coltrane still has steam By Chris Morris
Thu Oct 27, 1:12 PM ET



LOS ANGELES (Hollywood Reporter) - In a surprising development, saxophone trailblazer John Coltrane accounted for two of the top three jazz albums last week, 38 years after his death.


The two-disc Impulse! set "One Down, One Up: Live at the Half Note" entered at No. 3 on Billboard's top jazz albums chart for the week ended October 16. Sitting at No. 2 was Blue Note's recently released album by the Thelonious Monk Quartet with Coltrane, "At Carnegie Hall."

The Half Note album bowed with sales of 3,500 units (and went on to sell 2,400 in its second week), while the Carnegie Hall package has moved 44,000 to date. The latter title recently racked up an amazing 11-day run at No. 1 on Amazon.com's album best-seller list.

Both collections were hitherto unreleased.

If I Could Tell You
By WH Auden

Time will say nothing; but I told you so,
Time only knows the price we have to pay;
If I could tell you I would let you know.


If we should weep when clowns put on their show,
If we should stumble when musicians play,
Time will say nothing but I told you so.


There are no fortunes to be told, although,
Because I love you more than I can say,
If I could tell you I would let you know.


The winds must come from somewhere when they blow,
There must be reasons why the leaves decay;
Time will say nothing but I told you so.


Perhaps the roses really want to grow,
The vision seriously intends to stay;
If I could tell you I would let you know.


Suppose the lions all get up and go,
And all the brooks and soldiers run away;
Will Time say nothing but I told you so?
If I could tell you I would let you know.

edgar, you chose another of my favorites, Texas. Thanks for that reminder. I am almost certain that Auden wrote a poem called "Lunch on Omaha Beach, " but I haven't had much success in locating it. Perhaps one of our listeners will phone it in.

I noticed today, folks, that Florida is considering another law to ban certain video games.

Well, if video killed the radio star, then perhaps it's prophetic that video(games) killed the Hollywood star. What do you think, listeners?