BOTTLE OF WINE, FRUIT OF THE VINE – Marilyn Armstrong

Tom Paxton – “Bottle of Wine”


I’ve been a Tom Paxton fan forever. He may be one of the greatest writers and singers of folks songs. Ever. He is 80 now, still performing, still living on Long Island in New York.

May you live forever, Tom Paxton! You bring my youth back to me!

THE COPIOUS JOY OF MUSIC WE LOVED – Marilyn Armstrong

THE COPIOUS JOY OF THE MUSIC WE LOVED


From the group “Three Dog Night,” written by Hoyt Axton, this has to be the most joyful noise to come out of a radio during the 1970s. It still makes me want to dance!



LYRICS:
Jeremiah was a bullfrog
Was a good friend of mine
I never understood a single word he said
But I helped him drink his wine
And he always had some mighty fine wine
Singin’ Joy to the world All the boys and girls,
now Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea
Joy to you and me

If I were the king of the world
Tell you what I’d do
I’d throw away the cars and the bars and the wars
Make sweet love to youSingin’ now,

Joy to the world
All the boys and girls
Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea
Joy to you and me
(INSTRUMENTAL INTERLUDE)

You know I love the ladies
Love to have my fun
I’m a high night flyer and a rainbow rider
A straight-shootin’ son of a gun
I said a straight shootin’ son of a gun

Joy to the world
All the boys and girls
Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea
Joy to you and me Joy to the world

All the boys and girls
Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea
Joy to you and me

Joy to the world
All the boys and girls

Joy to the world
Joy to you and me

Joy to the world
All the boys and girls
Now Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea
Joy to you and me

Joy to the world
All the boys and girls
Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea
Joy to you and me

Joy to the world All the boys and girls
Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea
Joy to you and me …

MIDNIGHT AT THE OASIS – MARIA MULDAUR – Marilyn Armstrong

MIDNIGHT AT THE OASIS


Lyrics: Midnight at the Oasis

Sung by:  Maria Muldaur

Midnight at the oasis
Send your camel to bed
Shadows painting our faces
Traces of romance in our heads
Heaven’s holding a half-moon
Shining just for us
Let’s slip off to a sand dune, real soon
And kick up a little dust
Come on, Cactus is our friend
He’ll point out the way
Come on, till the evening ends
‘Til the evening ends
You don’t have to answer
There’s no need to speak
I’ll be your belly dancer, prancer
And you can be my sheik
I know your daddy’s a sultan
A nomad known to all
With fifty girls to attend him, they all send him
Jump at his beck and call
But you won’t need no harem, honey
When I’m by your side
And you won’t need no camel, no no
When I take you for a ride
Come on, Cactus is our friend
He’ll point out the way
Come on, till the evening ends
‘Til the evening ends
Midnight at the oasis
Send your camel to bed
Got shadows painting our faces
And traces of romance in our heads
Oh come on, oh come on
Woo hoo hoo, yeah, oh yeah
Oh oh, yeah, yeah

Songwriters: David Nichtern


In answer to “Whatever happened to Maria Muldaur”? I asked that many times, always wondering why her magical voice was never a big hit somewhere.

Her first — only — album was brilliant. She had such a wonderful, flexible, joyous voice … yet after that album, she essentially seemed to vanish from the music scene. It wasn’t lack of talent (obviously) and surely, with the numbers she racked up with her album, she had more than enough offers to do more.

The answer was simpler than I expected and I think it offers a good example of what “performing” means — both to those who make it “big” and those who say “no, thanks.” There are more who say “no” than you might expect.

She did continue to perform, both on her own and with the Grateful Dead and other groups. Solo performance wasn’t her favorite thing. She enjoyed writing songs, singing songs, singing backup with other groups and singers, but performing solo wasn’t “her.”

I asked a few people who knew her personally what happened and the answers were always the same. She wasn’t a driven performer. She loved music and singing, but she didn’t have the passion for fame.

She had a long career. I don’t know if she still performs. but she would be 80 now, so she may have retired. She was around and with us for all these years, but rarely as lead singer. She did not seek it.

Not everyone wants to be a star. Even when you can do it, it doesn’t mean you really want it. For all of us who are good at something but do not compete, the ability and the drive don’t always come as a pair.

“Midnight at the Oasis” was her big number and from a listener’s point of view, I wish she had done more. But I understand — because I don’t like performing either.

LEARNING TO HATE – BY ELLIN CURLEY

There’s a beautiful and poignant song in the musical “South Pacific”, by Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein. It’s called, “You’ve Got To Be Carefully Taught”. It opens with the lines “You’ve got to be taught to hate and fear, you’ve got to be taught from year to year.”

I’ve been thinking about those lyrics recently. I was struck by a common statistic in both the Brexit vote in the UK and our election of Donald Trump. In the UK, the voters who voted most heavily anti-immigrant and anti-EU were from areas that had few to no immigrants. The open-minded, pro-immigrant, pro-EU voters were clustered in the areas with the highest volume of immigrants.

Interesting.

The same phenomenon repeated itself in the United States. Trump supporters accepted, if not endorsed his xenophobic, anti-Muslim, racist rhetoric and dog whistling. His voters were concentrated in areas that were most heavily white, with the lowest number of immigrants and other racial minorities.

The cities, where immigrants and minorities are concentrated, were across the board Democratic and anti-Trump. It seems that if you have contacts with minority groups or people not exactly like yourself, you accept and don’t fear them.

If these groups of people are total unknowns to you, you’re open to believing all the negative rhetoric about them. You’re open to seeing them as dangerous and destructive to you and your way of life.

At first, I thought this was counter-intuitive. But I realized that it makes perfect sense. When you live with a diverse group of people, you see that everyone, regardless of race, nationality or religion, shares your life experience. Most importantly, you see all other people as individuals. To you, they’re not, nor can they be seen as, a monolithic, mysterious blob of humanity, threatening everything you hold dear.

On a personal note, I grew up in New York City. Even in the ‘50’s and ‘60’s, I saw different races and nationalities everywhere. I also went to integrated schools. When I was four years old, I had an eye-opening experience that I still remember. I’m a Jewish Caucasian. My beloved Nanny was a Christian black woman.

To me, Ethie was part of the family. She was just like me in every way. The first time that belief was challenged was when something came up about her going to church. It suddenly hit me that Ethie wasn’t JEWISH! She wasn’t just like me, she was different in some ways. It still didn’t register on me that her skin was a different color. That didn’t even show up on my four-year-old radar. I just remember grappling with the idea that Ethie was not really family.

She was not JUST LIKE US. She was, in some crucial way, different. I didn’t love her any less. I learned something that day. That I could love someone who wasn’t exactly like me.

Different was okay.

I guess isolation from different religious and ethnic groups leaves you susceptible to hate and fear.



You’ve got to be taught
To hate and fear,
You’ve got to be taught
From year to year,
It’s got to be drummed
In your dear little ear
You’ve got to be carefully taught.

You’ve got to be taught to be afraid
|Of people whose eyes are oddly made,
And people whose skin is a diff’rent shade,
You’ve got to be carefully taught.
You’ve got to be taught before it’s too late,
Before you are six or seven or eight,
To hate all the people your relatives hate,
You’ve got to be carefully taught!

SoCS — ROUND AND ROUND, PERRY COMO – REBLOG – FANDANGO

Can two minds thing MORE alike? I remember this song because I had it on a 45 RPM. Remember then? I had a little record player and a pile of records in every color of the spectrum. I always like Perry Como, though I never understood how come he could sing with his teeth apparently clenched.

FOWC with Fandango — Highway
(ROUND & ROUND)


 

This, That, and The Other

When I saw Linda G. Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt, which is to “use the word ‘round’ as a word by itself or find a word that contains it,” the first thing that came to mind was “a round tuit,” as in “I’ll get around to it.” But then I realized that I already wrote a post about round tuits. In fact, that post, which you can read here, was written for one of Linda’s One-Liner Wednesday prompts. So there goes that idea.

The next thing that came to mind was the saying, “What goes around comes around.” But guess what? I wrote this post for a Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Tale Weaver prompt. Sheesh! Another idea down the drain.

So now what? Think, Fandango. Oh wait, I got it! And I bet only those of you out there who are as old as I am will relate to my SoCS…

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SEPTEMBER WITH A PINK WILDFLOWER – Marilyn Armstrong

FIRST PINK SQUARE PICTURE OF SEPTEMBER!


Can you believe it’s September? How did that happen?

But today, as we were driving from town to town, seeing doctors, picking up prescriptions, stopping home to grab lunch and out again, I noticed that trees are beginning to change color. Not masses of them, but some. I saw a yellow one, a red one, and a mixed one with more red than green.

So despite the fact that it has been insanely hot and we are expecting more heat next week, fall will relentlessly arrive anyway. Because the seasons will have their way with the year, as time will have its way with our bodies.

We took pictures by the farm around the corner and there were wild, pink flowers growing along the edge of the field where the cows were grazing. Such a pretty pink, so I made them square.

Pink wildflowers by the farm

GIRLFRIEND OF THE WHIRLING DERVISH – Marilyn Armstrong

I always thought this goofy song was made up for a Looney Tunes cartoon. I vaguely remembered it as Daffy Duck, but it turned to be Porky Pig. Moreover, it’s a real song, written by Johnny Mercer et al. It has been performed by a variety of artists, including Bette Midler.

Why did this come up? Well, we were watching baseball and some dumb commentator referred to a player as “The Whirling Dervish.” And I started humming “She was the girlfriend of the whirling dervish …” and then, I simply had to find that cartoon.

After which, I had to find the song and the lyrics. It is still — even not as a cartoon — a silly song.



The Girl Friend of the Whirling Dervish

Song by Bette Midler

Lyrics:

One fine day, I chanced to stray
On a little side street in old Bombay
And met a sentimental oriental
She saw me and I saw she
Had a manner too bold and much too free
Her eyes were positively detrimental
When I asked about this gay coquette
I discovered much to my regret

She’s the girl friend of the whirling dervish
She’s the sweetest one he’s found
But ev’ry night, in the mellow moonlight
When he’s out dervishing with all his might
She gives him the run-around
All the boy friends of the whirling dervish
Are his best friends to his face
But there’s no doubt, when he isn’t about

They all come hurrying to take her out
She leads him a dizzy pace
He dreams of a Hindu honeymoon
He doesn’t dream that ev’ry night when he goes out
To make an honest rupee
She steps out to make a lotta whoopee
Oh, the love song of the whirling dervish
Has a sweet and tender sound

But will he burn if he ever should learn
That while he’s doing her a real good turn
She gives him the runaround
She’s got a nervish, throwin’ him a curvish
Which, of course, he doesn’t deservish
Poor old whirling dervish!


Songwriters: Johnny Mercer / Al Dubin / Harry Warren

The Girl Friend of the Whirling Dervish lyrics
© Warner/Chappell Music, Inc


So I decided to do it as a post. Because it’s silly and totally pointless and it makes me laugh.

These days, a laugh is about the only thing that really makes me feel better. It’s also the only thing that keeps me sane.