Theme Song

If yours truly had a theme song, this would be it. It should be sung to the tune of Jimmy Dean’s “Big John.”

1.He was a heck of a man
With a slight slight tan
Six foot none
And his hair was gone.
He was Don, Big Don,
Big Tall Don.

2.He wore a hat
To the right it tipped
And dark glasses too
So he wouldn’t catch flu.
He was Don, Big Don,
Big Tall Don.

3.He was a library clerk
And he loved to work
He came in at noon
Sometimes a little too soon.
He was Don, Big Don,
Big Tall Don.

4.He arrived at work one Monday day
Everything was thrown every which-a-way
He looked from side to side and all around
There wasn’t a clerk anywhere to be found
He heard a noise from a way far-off
A still small voice with an obvious cough
He went to the cabinet sitting in front
He pulled out a drawer and began his hunt.
He was Don, Big Don, Big Tall Don.

5.The voice he’d heard it was down in there
Where it was he couldn’t be sure
He reached on in and pulled himself through
The hole in the drawer fit like a shoe
He followed that sound deep deep down
Through the caverns and caves he followed that sound
When after a heck of a whole lotta feet
He found himself just about to retreat.
He was Don, Big Don, Big Tall Don.

6.The hole got smaller but the sound grew louder
So on he plunged and the tunnel got tighter
While up above the librarians stood
And listened the best that they could
For the Yodeling Don and the lost clerks
Trapped deep down in the depths of the earth
He kept on moving and moving on he went
Creeping and crawling through every little vent.
He was Don, Big Don, Big Tall Don.

7.Until upon a group he finally came
All stuck under a pile of books and magazines
Well he digged and he dugged and he digged real fast
The air in that tunnel surely wouldn’t last
He pushed and he pulled and he got a clerk out
Sent her above as the librarians gave him a shout
There were ten, twenty, thirty clerks or more
And pulling them out was like mining for ore.
He was Don, Big Don, Big Tall Don.

8.But out they did come one by one
And the books they fell ton by ton
Barely missing clerk by clerk until
There was only one clerk left to kill
Then Don had saved them all
He’d come to the rescue and didn’t stall
But now he was caught in the head
Banged by a ten pound book about lead.
He was Don, Big Don, Big Tall Don.

9.First he was stunned and then knocked out
As he fell to the floor turning about
They came crashing upon him they fell
As the last rescued clerk crawled through the shell
Of an underground that was all blocked off
By all those books that had fallen rough
Upon the man they’d known as
Don, Big Don, Big Tall Don.

The Coronavirus Blues

The lonely vending machine
He’s sitting in the corner
Waiting for the coins to drop
Nickels, dimes and quarters

But there ain’t no coin
There ain’t no coin
There ain’t no coin
To drop
But there ain’t no coin
There ain’t no coin
There ain’t no coin
For the slot

There’s a washing mahine
Standing in the laudromat
Waiting for the dirty clothes
Stained with mud and chocolate

But there ain’t no coin
There ain’t no coin
There ain’t no coin
To drop
But there ain’t no coin
There ain’t no coin
There ain’t no coin
For the slot

And the slots off in Vegas
They’re waiting for a handout
From the unlucky many
Who are down for the count

But there ain’t no coin
There ain’t no coin
There ain’t no coin
To drop
But there ain’t no coin
There ain’t no coin
There ain’t no coin
For the slot

Soon

Another lyric for your enjoyment.

Rigor mortis is setting in
When it does I’ll be stiff as a board
Just another corpus delicti
Part of a great skeleton hoard

Crossing over the River Styx
On I go to another side
Hoping to be one of the picks
Through the Pearly Gates to reside

Soon I’ll be in the grave or bust
Soon I’ll be ashes and rust
Soon I’ll be nothing but dust
Soon I’ll be part of the crust

I’ve done my share of roaming
I’ve got trav’ling shoes to prove it
Picked up a bit of sea and sand
Been to the sunrise and in the pits

Took on the valleys and mountains
Over rainbows and under bridges
Never sure where I was bounding
When I made my jump off the edges

Soon I’ll be in the grave or bust
Soon I’ll be ashes and rust
Soon I’ll be nothing but dust
Soon I’ll be part of the crust

Uncle Bardie’s Weekly Music Pick: At Last

It’s Thursday again. You know what that means. Uncle Bardie’s Weekly Music Pick. Uncle Bardiie gives a double thumbs up to this week’s selection: “At Last” by Etta James.

In the fifties and early sixties, an amazing group of female singers emerged to give American audiences some of the best vocals ever heard in the history of popular music. These included Brenda Lee, Connie Francis, Della Reese, Julie London, Sarah Vaughan, and Abby Lincoln.

Of this group, I have especially taken a hankering to the music of Dinah Washington, Patsy Cline and Etta James. It wasn’t just that they had great voices. It was as if they were reaching down deep into their souls and pulling up all the pain they had and pouring it out for the world to hear. That pouring out has a name. It’s called the Blues.

Some artists can take all their feelings and make them into great art. These three do that. When I hear their music, it makes me realize that I am not alone in feeling what I am feeling. I can experience deeply what they are feeling.

Etta’s “At Last” is a pure gem. Oh my, Etta can sing. With this one, she makes love all her own. It’s not just love. It’s Love with a capital L. And she’s giving everything to it. This is High Art. This is Van Gogh painting the starry night. This is Richard Burton doing the “To be or not to be” soliloquy. This is Martha Graham dancing “Lamentation”. This is Elizabeth Bishop making poems.

To get caught up in this song is to let yourself go and feel something human.  Very little allows us to do that these days. Mostly we are given doses of plastic that cut us off from our fellow human beings. Then we hear Etta James or Patsy Cline or Dinah Washington and we suddenly are busting out of our cocoons. We have heard something true.