WA2K Radio is now on the air

The Beatles, Yit? I think McTag is conducting a teaser campaign, or like my Irish friend once observed, telling half a secret. <smile>

Well, folks, at least he is representing Europe.

Hmmmm, perhaps if I play Amazing Grace on the bagpipes instead of the Campbells are Coming, we can get a full song outta that Brit.

Just call me Chicken Little, folks. Finally had to do it myself:

Flew in from Miami Beach BOAC
Didn't get to bed last night
Oh, the way the paper bag was on my knee
Man, I had a dreadful flight
I'm back in the USSR
You don't know how lucky you are, boy
Back in the USSR, yeah

Been away so long I hardly knew the place
Gee, it's good to be back home
Leave it till tomorrow to unpack my case
Honey disconnect the phone
I'm back in the USSR
You don't know how lucky you are, boy
Back in the US
Back in the US
Back in the USSR

Well the Ukraine girls really knock me out
They leave the west behind
And Moscow girls make me sing and shout
They Georgia's always on my my my my my my my my my mind
Oh, come on
Hu Hey Hu, hey, ah, yeah
yeah, yeah, yeah
I'm back in the USSR
You don't know how lucky you are, boys
Back in the USSR

Well the Ukraine girls really knock me out
They leave the west behind
And Moscow girls make me sing and shout
They Georgia's always on my my my my my my my my my mind

Oh, show me round your snow peaked
mountain way down south
Take me to you daddy's farm
Let me hear you balalaika's ringing out
Come and keep your comrade warm
I'm back in the USSR
Hey, You don't know how lucky you are, boy
Back in the USSR
Oh, let me tell you honey

BOAC is (was) the British Overseas Airways Corporation.

Acronyms can be dangerous, McTag.

For example, NAACP, see? Actually, Brit, I was just wondering about the song and nothing more.

You know, folks, it seems that the entire world has become a hashed metaphor. When I mentioned Chicken Little, I think most folks know the reference. It was a little fairy tale about the worker and the sloth. Now there's a movie called Chicken Little that confuses that moral with Henny Penny. I haven't seen the movie, nor shall I, but I wonder if it's done on purpose?

UhOh folks. Your PD must make another retraction:
The Little Red Hen
Sara Cone Bryant (Retold from Joseph Jacobs)



One day as the Little Red Hen was scratching in a field, she found a grain of wheat.

"This wheat should be planted," she said. "Who will plant this grain of wheat?"
"Not I," said the Duck.

"Not I," said the Cat.

"Not I," said the Dog.

"Then I will," said the Little Red Hen. And she did.

Soon the wheat grew to be tall and yellow.

"The wheat is ripe," said the Little Red Hen. "Who will cut the wheat?"
"Not I," said the Duck.

"Not I," said the Cat.

"Not I," said the Dog.

"Then I will," said the Little Red Hen. And she did.

When the wheat was cut, the Little Red Hen said, "Who will thresh the wheat?"

"Not I," said the Duck.
"Not I," said the Cat.

"Not I," said the Dog.

"Then I will," said the Little Red Hen. And she did.

When the wheat was threshed, the Little Red Hen said, "Who will take this wheat to the mill?"

"Not I," said the Duck.
"Not I," said the Cat.

"Not I," said the Dog.

"Then I will," said the Little Red Hen. And she did.

She took the wheat to the mill and had it ground into flour. Then she said, "Who will make this flour into bread?"

"Not I," said the Duck.
"Not I," said the Cat.

"Not I," said the Dog.

"Then I will," said the Little Red Hen. And she did.

She made and baked the bread. Then she said, "Who will eat this bread?"

"Oh! I will," said the Duck.
"And I will," said the Cat.

"And I will," said the Dog.

"No, No!" said the Little Red Hen. "I will do that." And she did.



No wonder our children get confused.

Sorry all.

this chicken is a bit more oomphy, attitude in fact



I am the little red rooster
Too lazy to crow for day
I am the little red rooster
Too lazy to crow for day

Keep everything in the farm yard upset in every way

The dogs begin to bark and hounds begin to howl
Dogs begin to bark and hounds begin to howl
Watch out strange cat people
Little red rooster's on the prowl

If you see my little red rooster
Please drive him home
If you see my little red rooster
Please drive him home
Ain't had no peace in the farm yard
Since my little red rooster's been gone

writtn by willie dixon

but as our president would say, is our children learning?

Heh! Heh! neat song, John.

Did you know, folks, that the Roosevelts once owned a one legged rooster? It's true.

You mean, Yit, as he would TRY to say.

Well folks, I have an appointment with an insurance agent. Pray for me.

Back later.

Why is it, listeners, that when a person comes to sell you something, they never let you explain your own situation.

I don't want that medicare prescription addition.

That's my mini rant for the day.

Now back to the music:

Only Love Is Real

As I bask in the glow of a just-lit fire
Feeling the warmth as the flames grow higher
I think it's true that nothing
is really new under the sun
Watching a new love grow
from old love's embers
Yesterday's gone but today remembers
Doesn't it seem to come down the same for everyone
(Chorus)
Only love is real
Everything else illusion
Adding to the confusion of the way we connive
At being alive
Tracing a line till we can define
The thing that allows us to feel
Only love is real
Childhood dreams like muddy waters
Flowing through me to my son and daughters
Everything I ever thought is confirmed as truth to me
Even as I see the way that I want to go now
Still I had wished I had known what I know now
Maybe I could have spared you
Giving your youth to me
(Chorus)

Only love is real
Everything else illusion
Adding to the confusion of the way we connive
At being alive
Tracing a line till we can define
The thing that allows us to feel
Only love is real

Carol King

Hey Letty, I forgot to mention, I loved that Thanksgiving Turkey. I sent it to some of my friends.

Today's song

I got a little red rooster
Too lazy to crow in the day....

Oh heck

John already played that one

Bowdlerised I see

The original Red Rooster sung about by the bluesman (John Lee Hooker? Willie Dixon? Rolling Stones too) was....what?

McTag, those are the original lyrics, as far as i know. the Stones made a terrific recording, but Howlin' Wolf sang it first.

Raggedy and I enjoyed it, McTag, and I'm glad that you did as well.

Well, Brit, I'm happy to see you are aware of the "good"? doctor.

"Othello" By William Shakespeare
Adapted & Directed by Russ Banham
Seattle Shakespeare Company
206-733-8222
www.seattleshakes.org

Most avid theatre-goers, and certainly those well-steeped in Shakespearean drama are familiar with the practice of "bowdlerization", the egregious expurgation of salacious or potentially offensive material from a work of literature. The term's etymology can be traced to one Dr. Thomas Bowlder (1754-1825), who in 1818 published "The Family Shakespeare", in which he "endeavoured to remove every thing that could give just offence to the religious and virtuous mind". Over time, the term has taken on a somewhat broader connotation, referring to any extreme cutting of a text.

While this may bring to mind images of wild-eyed, scissors-wielding Puritans, there are times when even the most reverent "Bardophile" (to use G.B. Shaw's somewhat dismissive appellation) sees need for some judicious trimming. When done with care, sensitivity and thoughtfulness, such cutting can actually enhance the audience's understanding and enjoyment of the work. In what is being billed as a "chamber theatre production" of "Othello", Seattle Shakespeare Company director, Russ Banham takes this notion to its logical conclusion by paring away minor characters and subplots to focus exclusively on the primary storyline. Although purists will no doubt object to yet another case of "the director (thinking he) knows better than the writer", in all honesty, the result is a riveting, thoroughly engaging production that places emphasis squarely on the actors' interaction both with each other and with the audience.

Back later, listeners. With a song that won't go wrong.

Listen to the voice of the turtle, folks. He knows about wolves and hookers.

Incidentally, this one is for Booman:


St. Louis Blues
(W.C. Handy)

Transcribed from vocals by Esther Bigeou, recorded October 5, 1921,
FromThe Complete Works of Esther Bigeou, Lillyn Brown, Alberta Brown & the Remaining Titles of Ada Brown in Chronological Order (1921-1928), Document Records DOCD-5489.


I hate to see that evening sun go down,
I hate to see that evening sun go down,
'Cause my lovin' baby done left this town.

If I feel tomorrow, like I feel today,
If I feel tomorrow, like I feel today,
I'm gonna pack my trunk and make my getaway.

Oh, that St. Louis woman, with her diamond rings,
She pulls my man around by her apron strings.
And if it wasn't for powder and her store-bought hair,
Oh, that man of mine wouldn't go nowhere.

I got those St. Louis blues, just as blue as I can be,
Oh, my man's got a heart like a rock cast in the sea,
Or else he wouldn't have gone so far from me.

I love my man like a schoolboy loves his pie,
Like a Kentucky colonel loves his rocker and rye
I'll love my man until the day I die, Lord, Lord.

I got the St. Louis blues, just as blue as I can be, Lord, Lord!
That man's got a heart like a rock cast in the sea,
Or else he wouldn't have gone so far from me.

I got those St. Louis blues, I got the blues, I got the blues, I got the blues,
My man's got a heart like a rock cast in the sea,
Or else he wouldn't have gone so far from me, Lord, Lord!

Wow! them words has been bowdlerized!

Folks, it is COLD here. Time to throw a log on the fire.

hooker? is that someone who hooks their tee shots? i do have a lupine song from Sam the Sham & the Pharoahs:

Owoooooooo! Who's that I see walkin' in these woods? Why, it's Little Red Riding Hood.

Hey there Little Red Riding Hood,
You sure are looking good.
You're everything a big bad wolf could want. Listen to me.
Little Red Riding Hood
I don't think little big girls should
Go walking in these spooky old woods alone. Owoooooooo!

What big eyes you have,
The kind of eyes that drive wolves mad.
So just to see that you don't get chased
I think I ought to walk with you for a ways.
What full lips you have.
They're sure to lure someone bad.
So until you get to grandma's place
I think you ought to walk with me and be safe.

I'm gonna keep my sheep suit on
Until I'm sure that you've been shown
That I can be trusted walking with you alone. Owoooooooo!
Little Red Riding Hood
I'd like to hold you if I could
But you might think I'm a big bad wolf so I won't. Owoooooooo!

What a big heart I have
The better to love you with.
Little Red Riding Hood
Even bad wolves can be good.
I'll try to be satisfied
Just to walk close by your side.
Maybe you'll see things my way
Before we get to grandma's place.

Hey there Little Red Riding Hood
You sure are looking good
You're everything that a big bad wolf could want. Owoooooooo!
I mean baaaaaa! Baaa?

Yit, I love that song, buddy.

Now, folks, here is Thurber's version:

The Little Girl and the Wolf
by James Thurber
One afternoon a big wolf waited in a dark forest for a little girl to come along carrying a basket of food to her grandmother. Finally a little girl did come along and she was carrying a basket of food. "Are you carrying that basket to your grandmother?" asked the wolf. The little girl said yes, she was. So the wolf asked her where her grandmother lived and the little girl told him and he disappeared into the wood.

When the little girl opened the door of her grandmother's house she saw that there was somebody in bed with a nightcap and nightgown on. She had approached no nearer than twenty-five feet from the bed when she saw that it was not her grandmother but the wolf, for even in a nightcap a wolf does not look any more like your grandmother than the Metro-Goldwyn lion looks like Calvin Coolidge. So the little girl took an automatic out of her basket and shot the wolf dead.

(Moral: It is not so easy to fool little girls nowadays as it used to be.)

Master Song
I believe that you heard your master sing
when I was sick in bed.
I suppose that he told you everything
that I keep locked away in my head.
Your master took you travelling,
well at least that's what you said.
And now do you come back to bring
your prisoner wine and bread?
You met him at some temple, where
they take your clothes at the door.
He was just a numberless man in a chair
who'd just come back from the war.
And you wrap up his tired face in your hair
and he hands you the apple core.
Then he touches your lips now so suddenly bare
of all the kisses we put on some time before.

And he gave you a German Shepherd to walk
with a collar of leather and nails,
and he never once made you explain or talk
about all of the little details,
such as who had a word and who had a rock,
and who had you through the mails.
Now your love is a secret all over the block,
and it never stops not even when your master fails.

And he took you up in his aeroplane,
which he flew without any hands,
and you cruised above the ribbons of rain
that drove the crowd from the stands.
Then he killed the lights in a lonely Lane
and, an ape with angel glands,
erased the final wisps of pain
with the music of rubber bands.

And now I hear your master sing,
you kneel for him to come.
His body is a golden string
that your body is hanging from.
His body is a golden string,
my body has grown numb.
Oh now you hear your master sing,
your shirt is all undone.

And will you kneel beside this bed
that we polished so long ago,
before your master chose instead
to make my bed of snow?
Your eyes are wild and your knuckles are red
and you're speaking far too low.
No I can't make out what your master said
before he made you go.

Then I think you're playing far too rough
for a lady who's been to the moon;
I've lain by this window long enough
to get used to an empty room.
And your love is some dust in an old man's cough
who is tapping his foot to a tune,
and your thighs are a ruin, you want too much,
let's say you came back some time too soon.

I loved your master perfectly
I taught him all that he knew.
He was starving in some deep mystery
like a man who is sure what is true.
And I sent you to him with my guarantee
I could teach him something new,
and I taught him how you would long for me
no matter what he said no matter what you'd do.

I believe that you heard your master sing
while I was sick in bed,
I'm sure that he told you everything
I must keep locked away in my head.
Your master took you travelling,
well at least that's what you said,
And now do you come back to bring
your prisoner wine and bread?

edgar, that's an odd song; certainly not one to use as a pillow.

Perhaps a willow? Yes, a willow, listeners:

Ann Ronell

Willow weep for me
Willow weep for me
Bent your branches down along the ground and cover me
Listen to my plea
Hear me willow and weep for me
Gone my lovely dreams
Lovely summer dreams
Gone and left me here
To wheep my tears along the stream
Sad as I can be
Hear me willow and weep for me
Whisper to the wind and say thay love has sinned
To leave my heart a sign
And crying alone
Murmur to the night
Hide her starry light
So none will find me sighing
Crying all alone
Wheeping willow tree
Wheeping sympathy
Bent your branches down along the ground and cover me
Listen to me plee
Hear me willow and weep for me
Willow
Willow
Wheep for me

Goodnight.

From Letty with love

ONE TOO MANY MORNINGS

Down the street the dogs are barkin'
And the day is a-gettin' dark.
As the night comes in a-fallin',
The dogs 'll lose their bark.
An' the silent night will shatter
From the sounds inside my mind,
And I'm one too many mornings
And a thousand miles behind.

From the crossroads of my doorstep,
My eyes they start to fade,
As I turn my head back to the room
Where my love and I have laid.
An' I gaze back to the street,
The sidewalk and the sign,
And I'm one too many mornings
An' a thousand miles behind.

It's a restless hungry feeling
That don't mean no one no good,
And ev'rything I'm a-sayin'
You can say it just as good.
You're right from your side,
I'm right from mine.
We're both just one too many mornings
An' a thousand miles behind.