haiku for the day: December

Ain’t December just grand? There’s so many things to get excited about. So many things to make it one of my favorite twelve months. Well, now that you mention it I am not that fond of August and September. Those are the hurricane months. But, December, wow. Now that’s some month.

If December were a baseball trading card, it would be Babe Ruth. Just think of all the things you get in December. There’s Hanukkah. There’s the Twelve Days of Christmas. There’s Boxing Day. There’s Kwanzaa. To top it all off, there’s New Year’s Eve with the big ball dropping. I mean, c’mon. What’s not to like about December.

month of holidays
December celebrations
lights, joy and wonder

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Uncle Bardie’s Spotlight Song: Perfect Day

Uncle Bardie’s Stories & Such celebrates his fourth year bloggerversary with this week’s Spotlight Song, Lou Reed’sPerfect Day“:

There are some songs you just want to hear again and again. “Perfect Day” is one of those songs. And the version I prefer is the one by its song writer, Lou Reed. This is one of those songs I listen to when I am really bummed out at the world.

Cause for celebrating

They’re all on their way to work. Some translators. Some teachers. Some work in banks and some don’t. They all have one thing in common. They’re on the way to a job.

They catch the Emerald City Express from the Yellow Brick Road to Wiz Blvd. They all work for the Wizard. They are the happiest of people. Well, most of them are. Some still have a hangover from last night’s partying till all hours.

They partied to celebrate Dorothy’s return to the Emerald City. She was gone for sixteen months. Doesn’t seem like much but Oz had gone to hell in a handbasket since she took off for Kansas. Now she was back, and already she had reasserted her position as the Go-to Kid. She had taken care of the Wicked Witch of the North.

Three months ago, WWN, better known as Hissy Fitt, came down from the North. She had revenge on her mind. She’d made a bid for the Munchkin Sock franchise and lost it to Snow White and the Seven Sneezes.

As she rode her broom into town, she kept saying, “Winter is coming.” Can you imagine? “Winter is coming.” What in the name of the long legged frog was that all about?

Hissy took the Emerald City in three seconds flat. Oztown didn’t have a clue what hit it. It had no defenses to speak of. Before you could say, “Before you could say,” the City was snowed in. The Munchkins were freezing in their little booties. Oz was affright with fright. There was snow everywhere.

At first, there weren’t any complaints. The kids got some time off from school. The workers got to stay home and drink eggnog. A month later and all the workers had used up their vacation and sick leave. The kids were driving their parents nuts because they were downright bored. “Enough of snow ice cream and snowball fights. We want to go back to school and play with our friends,” the kids said in their high-pitched kiddie voices.

And there was no break in the snow. It just kept coming down. The roof of the stadium dome was weighed down with snow. So much so, the roof came crashing down upon Oz’s Green Mealies, the Wiz’s own Quidditch Team. Just when they were about to give up hopeski, Dorothy’s house landed on Hissy’s head and killed her. Only her pointed ears could be seen. And quickly they melted.

At that moment, the snow went away. Suddenly it was springtime in Alaska again. So, as you can see, there was cause for celebrating. For now, they suffer through the hangovers and get back to what they do best. Their jobs.

Uncle Bardie’s Spotlight Creator: The Florida Folk Festival

Once a week on Friday, Uncle Bardie celebrates the creativity in others by shining a Spotlight on a movie, a song or a creator. This week’s Spotlight Creator is the art and artists of the Florida Folk Festival:

Once a year on Memorial Day Weekend, many Floridans bring their families to the Stephen Foster Folk Culture Center State Park for the Florida Folk Festival. This family affair is a heck of a get together on the banks of the Suwannee. Not only does it feature some great music and musicians. It also features much of the food and culture of the Sunshine State. Everything from folk dancing to circus culture to medicine shows to puppetry can be seen at the Festival. Every year is a different experience.

Rachel Grubb

Passerine.

Uncle Bardie’s Second Blogoversary

I want to thank all the followers and readers of this blog. You are the reason I continue to dance the light fantastic. You are indeed the cat’s pajamas. Thank you. Now for something special. Here’s how my day is going.

As the song says, we’ve come a long way, you and I. It’s been a long and winding road. It’s like we’ve almost made it across the universe. In the beginning, there were those who said, “Let it be”. There are still unbelievers who want me to get back. They are afraid someone is going to crucify me. I keep telling them that I have enough instant karma to make it through the night. Then I give them a high five and ask them to give peace a chance.

I gotta tell you that there are days I am like the Nowhere Man on Penny Lane, heading for Strawberry Fields. There are other days I feel like I am back in the USSR. Instead of getting a Dear John letter, somebody keeps sending me a Dear Prudence message, saying, “I want to hold your hand.” It always ends with “p.s. I love you.” I do want you to know that I work eight days a week, each day a hard day’s night to make this a good blog, one that is entertaining and fun.

I woke up this morning with good morning, good morning ringing in my head as the alarm keeps shouting, “It’s getting better. All the time.” ‘Bout that time, my next door neighbor knocks on my door and sings, “Yer having a birthday.” The phone rings and you’ll never guess who is on the line. Michelle, that’s who. Makes me long for yesterday. Guess it’s going to be just another day in the life.

Go into the kitchen and fix my usual breakfast: a big stack of lucy-in-the-sky-with-diamonds. Mmmmm, good. While I enjoy the stack, I think about what I am going to do for the benefit of Mr. Kite. After all, I know perfectly well he helped me when I was in need of a little help from my friends. I stack the dishes in the sink, look out the window, and you know what. I can’t believe it. Here comes the sun. It is going to be another good day sunshine.

I walk out to water my octopus’ garden in the shade. I am feeling pretty frisky. That Maxwell’s silver hammer banging in my head has gone away. I look across the road and see Polythene Pam. I want to say something to be neighborly. After all, her majesty’s a pretty nice girl, but she doesn’t have a lot to say. If I wasn’t dating Lovely Rita, maybe I would get up the nerve and ask her out. I hear she is something of a paperback writer.

I return to the inside of my house. There in the living room sits my mother, Julia. “Hey, Jude,” she says to me. She always calls me Jude.

“How did you get in here?”

“I came in through the bathroom window. You know you need to quit being such a fool on the hill.”

“Mom, you keep doing that and you know I am going to have to hire the Taxman.” I say that so she will realize she can’t buy me love.

“Why can’t we just come together?” she asks, giving me that Eleanor Rigby smile of hers.

“Look, I am not going to fake that revolution you keep asking for.”

“If you did,” she says, “you’d have to run for your life.”

“All things must pass,” I assure her.

“All you need is love,” she says.

“Well, baby, you’re a rich man too.”

“When I’m sixty-four, will you still love me?” she asks. Then that is that. The day tripper is out of there, making me dizzy Miss Lizzy. I yell after her, “Hello goodbye.”

I call Doctor Robert. He says, “Don’t bother me.”

“I dig it,” and I hang up.

So I go out and drive my car. Some guy almost swipes me. I yell, “Don’t pass me by.” I come upon some workers fixing a hole. I turn onto Blue Jay Way, looking for some help. Feeling helter skelter, I am wondering who is going to help me carry that weight. Feels like I am…here, there and everywhere.

I pull up to Lovely Rita’s front door and knock, my knock saying, “I got to get you into my life.” She opens the door and smiles. “Hello, little girl,” I say and give her a hug.

She pushes me away. “Honey, don’t.”

“I am the Walrus and I wanna be your man.”

“Well,” she says, “I’m happy just to dance with you.”

“You know you’re such a Lady Madonna. Why don’t you join me on my magical mystery tour?”

“I called you last night and I got no reply,” disappointment on her face.

“Aw c’mon, Sexy Sadie. You’re my honey pie. It’s something in the way you move.”

We go to this little out-of-the-way place called the Glass Onion. Maggie Mae, the waitress, comes by and takes our orders. I order an I-me-mine. They have the best anywhere around.Lovely Rita orders the one-after-909. We laugh. “Oh, darling,” she said, “you do love your I-me-mines, don’t you?”

“It reminds me of the day Mean Mr. Mustard left the neighborhood.”

“He thought he was a Mother Nature’s son, all those goats in his yard.”

The Savoy Truffle step to the stage and do their only hit, “Everybody’s Got Something to Hide Except Me and My Monkey”.

“You know,” she says, “I never really liked that song. It is long, long, long.”

” It’s only a northern song.”

We leave and continue the continuing story of Bungalow Bill. It’s like they say, “Happiness is a warm gun.” Well, obladi-oblada we are watching the yellow submarine at Pepperland. She leans over to my ear and whispers, “I guess we can work it out.”

At the end of the day, the last thing she says to me, “You’ve really got a hold on me.” That’s when I realize that I would not lose that girl.

It’s the end of another day and I’m so tired. So good night one and all. I’m off for some golden slumbers. If you see Rocky Racoon, tell him Uncle Bardie says hey.

The End.