THE MERRY OLD LAND OF OZ

MORE CONCERNING WHAT MAKES ME THINK

So if this were Oz, and it kinda is, then Grizzbabe would be Glenda the Good Witch of the North who floated in inside a bubble and advised me to follow the Yellow Brick Road. We exchanged a few E-_mails and she was kind enough to support some fairly lengthy ones where I directly "Blogged" her. From there she went further by sending me EMails about a comment I had left somewhere and saying it was further reason I needed to blog. Too kind.

The three companions I would first take on would be Barbara, Ol Lady and Mother of Invention. I distincly remember the comments left by all three from the old abandoned blog and the posts they had done that compelled me to leave comments, if not on that particular post, on a subsequent one.

Barbara has to be the most Spiritual and loving of us all and it shows through in the softheartedness of her posts. Her post that made a huge impression on me was one where she and a group of ladies were preparing to go into some kind of 'Water Ritual" and Barbara was explaining how the act of cleaning before you go in was directly related to the cleansing effect of the ritual itself. Very wise. I think she brings the Qualities of Scarecrow Tin man and Lion all together, and I think I love her most of all. Her heart is huge.

Ol' lady has the most in common with me...she and I would have a blast with a conveyor Dishwasher and a party of 1000 to serve and clean up for. Rack em' and stack em' baby. She is hard working, tough, not scared of nothin', with a cream filled middle. Did I mention she can be crazy whenever she wants to be? The first post I remember reading from her was about a Van full of party goers in Lawn Chairs that would wobble like weebles whenever they took a turn but they didn't fall down. I think it was 714's that had started the evening and I couldn't help but think I might have been invoved in that somehow. But the Ol'lady has a way remembering that jogs my own. She is like a Country road with stories on both sides and down the middle and in the ruts. Her ancestral wisdom has been passed down like seed corn. She, like myself has led a very interesting life. Certainly she is the Scarecrow and Lion all in one. There are a lot of people that love the Old Lady.

Of course Mother of Invention is hopelessly the sweetest thing in Oz, probably Kansas too, because she combines The Woodsman with Auntie Em rather well, doncha think? Her heart is huge and it doesnt take more than a parargraph of hers to find this. The goodwill and compassion pours, "Spills out" from her site.I don't recall as well the first posts of hers that attracted me so much, but they are all flavored Red and served in Heart-Shaped cups. If ever she has had a cloudy day, we would hard catch but a hint of it. I can also see her as the Wizard, ruling Oz with a Mothers-loving touch and Music nightly in the Atrium of the Emerald City. Her heart is every bit as big as Barbaras.

Between these three I think I better understand what the Wizard told the Tin Man about the heart. He said "The size of a Human Heart is not judged by how much it loves, but how much it is loved by others." I was never sure how I felt about this before, but these three ladies have made my poor Munchkin heart feel much bigger.

THE WIND BEGAN TO SWITCH

THE HOUSE, TO PITCH...

Hey...
Anyone remember this one?
I never did finish the series and write about Dorothy.

Dorothy...She said she had a Hard-Scrabble Soul; the Ruby-Slippered One, my Rubber-Band Girl, the woman from DHRT, A Poiny-Toed Specialist First-Class, our Over-the Rainbow, Bars in the Window Bluebird looking to fly... to fly...home.

WE ARE THE WIZARDS

"Pay no attention that that Man behind the curtain!"

Then in a diminished voice...
"The great and powerful... Oz...has... spoken"


Toto pulled the curtain all the way back to reveal a tired old man, hunched over and pulling the levers that controlled the fearful image, the smoke and booming voice that had left Dorothy and her companions so full of awe and dread. The charade and masquerade now over, Dorothy voiced her reproach.
"You are a very bad man"
The poor man shamefully, humbly, offered her this:
"Oh no, no, no dear, I am a very good man, just a ...very bad... Wizard."

So ladies, you might cut us a little slack sometimes when we try to be things we are'nt. Aren't. 'Aint.

I hate to say it but I am going to...if I have learned anything, fellow Wizards, its that you better listen to the ladies in your life. They just seem to be more human than we are and they are right about what you ought to do. They have our best interests in mind ALL THE TIME.

I don't know Citizen H real well, but I would nominate him for the Coroner here in Oz. To quote Alice Cooper;
"My shots are clean and my... shots are fine".
If you are fuckin' around, he'd just as soon shoot you. I imagine him to be a good shot.
As in Real Damn Good.
You know where the Citizen stands, and like the Coroner, his decisions are final. I keep waiting for some fish stories to come out of his kayaking adventures.

Soubriquet, whom we have not seen in these parts recently, I think we will call him the Farm Hand Hickory, I believe Hickory was building a wind machine and is the Scarecrows Kansian counterpart. Soubriquet has taken to giving us lots of Video Tech, and I miss his rambling stories. He is a parcel of information, but in between the Grit of his Gears I sense a tender Tin Mans touch.
Somewhere they will erect a Statue for Souby.

Rods Duck Farm is truly unique and I go there to see what wordplay nonsense he may be up to.
I would call him Uncle Henry and 'A Horse of a Different Color" and I believe in the book series there was a duck character (not these) which would be right up his alley. "Lonesome Duck" from the 13th Book is described "The feathers were of many hues of glistening greens and blues and purples, and it had a yellow head with a red plume, and pink, white and violet in its tail."
Rod is a "Man of the Cloth" and would tell you that the only real Wizard was nailed to a cross.

My nephew Dave I'm going to nominate as 'The Lollipop Guild" because of the way he sings and dances (I have never seen or heard him do either) but have you got a load of that mug of his? Dave also would qualify as professor T.E. Woggle-Bug from the books, who hid himself in a Schoolhouse and became educated. Dave is the personification of the idea that you can "observe a lot just by watching". Dave was raised by two of the smartest folks you would ever want to know.
Daves humor is so understated that he might skate right bayou. He plays a helluva bagpipe.
I got my eye on you, boy!

At last we come to David, who draws conclusions and I was tempted to do an entire page to him, but if you have beeen around these parts for long you may note that on occasion I find his posts so worthwhile I defer my own to him. I would imagine this will occur regularly, such a Wizard is he. He raises very smart Topics and Tags and Subjects and always gets very intelligent comments, right up to where I throw my 2 cents in.
Remember Professor Marvel? David is like Professor Marvel, who told Dorothy her future after rumaging through her knapsack to get her vitals. 'Reaching into the infinite" he called it and that is what David does. He reaches into the infinite!

Me? I am the Guard that tells Dorothy and her companions to go away.... then breaks down into a flood of tears after hearing their story and lets them into the Emerald City.
He says "I had an Auntie Em myself once."
I am a sucker for a Broken Heart.

SHE LOOKS LIKE A YOUNG GIRL

Guess who I met live and in person this weekend?
Mother of Invention and her husband David!!!
They were in Dallas for a weddding and I met them out at the Airport.

We stood at talked for "aboot" an hour.

Hear I am giving them a big Texas Tag Team bear hug.

I started to wear like a big foam Cowboy hat, or get a big Cow outfit and a friend to get in it with me or make myself up to look like a Chinese tourist but I thought "I'll just play this one straight"

Reading her blog the last 3 years, and the comments she leaves I knew that they just had to be the sweetest kindest people you would ever want to meet.
What really struck me was how youthful they were. I knew mom was playful, and all the interaction she has had with kids has kept her heart young, but I had no idea they would look so young.

Also, David was really cool, and though I only know him as Mom's husband, there seemed to be a quick familiarity between us.

These folks seemed like just a couple of crazy kids ready for any lark that might pass their way!
I hear they get it from her father.
They even sounded like Texans except when they said "aboot". (about)

It was a real pleasure meeting them.

On a really bizarre note, it seems that Hurricane Ike beat them home to Canada Sunday and when they arrived the power was out for the whole town!

From the Bulletholes archives:

Of course Mother of Invention is hopelessly the sweetest thing in Oz, probably Kansas too, because she combines The Woodsman with Auntie Em rather well, doncha think? Her heart is huge and it doesnt take more than a parargraph of hers to find this. The goodwill and compassion pours, "Spills out" from her site.I don't recall as well the first posts of hers that attracted me so much, but they are all flavored Red and served in Heart-Shaped cups. If ever she has had a cloudy day, we would hard catch but a hint of it. I can also see her as the Wizard, ruling Oz with a Mothers-loving touch and Music nightly in the Atrium of the Emerald City. Her heart is every bit as big as Barbaras.

YOUR HEARTS IN TEXAS; FOR RED AND SOUBY

When the Red Dirt Girl was in town this week I had hoped that maybe she would be able to go with me to see my pal Buddy, and meet some of my friends at a Buddy Whittington Show, and we would jam to Slow Rolling Train or Grits Ain't Groceries, or any other of Buddy's great songs..
But it just didn't quite work out that way. I hope when Souby gets to Texas here in just a few weeks that maybe they will be able to come up sometime and we will have some good fun and listen to some Buddy.

It was great to meet Red after all these years. We mention from time to time the fun we had in the early days where Red would put up some picture of a shoe, and I would build some kind of menu around it. It may sound far fetched, but it wasn't that much of a stretch once we got rolling. In fact, lets see if maybe I have a picture of a shoe handy....
OH! What do you know? We just happen to have one here!

The rule has always been in determining a Coral Snake from a King Snake:

"Red touch yellow, kill a fellow

Red touch black, friend to Jack"

So it looks like we are in business, especially if there are some black fishnets somewhere near.

Now all we have to do is come up with a menu for this shoe. This shoe is almost biblical. It reminds me of the verse in Genesis that says the serpent was the "craftiest creature in the garden, except the woman".

So, for an appetizer, we should go with a nice Rattlesnake-Leek Consomme', with some Quail Quenelles floated on top maybe.
For the entree I'm  thinking Filet of Sole (haha) ala Pompei, garnished with Seedless Green Grapes, Lobster Coral and Mississippi Baby Shrimps in a light White Wine Sauce.
For dessert, a chocolate Treasure Box, painted with Gold filigree, filled with White Chocolate Mousse on a Raspberry Coulis and seasonal fruits garnish.

I've still got it baby!

I went back and looked around, and found an excerpt from a long time ago, not about me or Red, but about the real star of this show, Sobriquet. Here is his place in the Land of Oz, that I had compared my pals here to at one point:


Soubriquet, whom we have not seen in these parts recently, I think we will call him the Farm Hand Hickory, I believe Hickory was building a wind machine and is the Scarecrows Kansian counterpart. Sobriquet has taken to giving us lots of Video Tech, and I miss his rambling stories. He is a parcel of information, but in between the Grit of his Gears I sense a tender Tin Mans touch.
Somewhere they will erect a Statue for Souby.

A statue for Souby! Who would have thought in 2008 it would be in Texas!

Anyway, it was such a pleasure to meet an old friend for the first time. Its really amazing how well you can get to know someone over time on the blogs when they present themselves in a genuine fashion. A few of us have come a long ways together.
As soft and sweet as I always thought Red would be, I was surprised to find that she is even softer and sweeter in person, if not even a little bit demure. She really IS a lot like Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz!
This post is full of links to all sorts of places and I urge you to follow them to your hearts content. I dont think there is a way to tell the full story here, we lived it and watched it being lived. We really helped each other get through and get over.
Thats the trick sometimes you know, getting over what you just got through.

Oh, but back to Buddy and that Slow Rolling Train. heres a tune off his Dr. Wu Project. I'm not sure who wrote this song, but it really is a great song! They stop clowning around and get to the music at the one minute mark. Hurry home Souby. Take the fast train.

THE WICKED WITCH OF THE WEST

She is Elphaba, the Wicked Witch of the West.
Oz is just another dreary day without her.

She is Isis, Astarte, Diana, Hecate, Demeter, Kali.
She is Inanna.
She is a Carpenter and a Debutante.
She is the answer to Samsons Riddle.
She is Murphys Law and Brewsters Factor and Hobsons Choice.
She is the White Whale. She is Ahab.
She is Hannibal.
She is Calamity Jane and Annie Oakley and Cat Ballou.
No, she is too smart to be Cat Ballou.
Not just another Lost Angel.
She is 1 part Genius and 2 parts Magic and as far as pure thinking goes, she pushes me.
She tasks me.


One of the blogs I have looked at almost as long as Grizzbabes took me a long time to actually leave a comment. The reason is that it may be in some ways the smartest blog I look at. Now ‘smart “ is largely overrated and if we were going for smart as reading material we probably, none of us, would ever have met. Still Kissyface stands as the smartest blog I will allow myself to look at.
If The Grizz and my three companions in Oz are all holding hands and singing "Kum-bay-ya", then Kissyface would well Qualify as a very Foxy, kinder and gentler Elphaba, better known as The Wicked Witch of the West.
It was Elphaba that admonished Dorothy to ‘Go home” in skywriting from her Broom. Indeed, that is all Dorothy wanted anyway. How could Dorothy have made it home without Elphaba? Hmm?
When the Solstice's and Equinoxi have their days on the Calender , and as the seasons of the Earth and phases of the Moon move through their cycles, I can hardly wait for my lesson and rush to the site for instruction from Kissyface. Her blogs become treatises on all manner of occasion and during Halloween and Valentines Day the reading becomes extremely interesting. She combines Norse with Celt and throws in the Greek and Roman equivalents and I find it all so fascinating.
But she does not stop there....she is Elphaba yet because she is so controversial. She will speak right up with a sharp tongue and a wicked little mouth and because of that she is not for everybody. She is for me.
When we are all trying to recover from MLK Day, she pulls Muhammed Ali from her pointy hat, reminding us of another Great one.
Lately she has taken to finding very nice Photography and writing a bit of Poetry or Prose or something inspired by that image. Back when I was trying to explain what I thought was the difference between passion and Love she came up with this, and I do not know if she had me in mind when she wrote it or if I am just tilting windmills... it seemed to say what I wanted to say...I’ll let you decide...its but an excerpt.

From 'Fifteen"

“People, tread with naked, tender steps,
the careful paces of those who know that each touch
bite of bread
every seed sewn, every limb torn down,
garment dropped
button popped
every lay me down
should be handled like a prayer
whispered in earnest to the Mother
the ear of the lover
to the hole you dig in the ground
because each time is new
every all the time a beginning.”

Kissyface, I believe, Groks Holiness.
She talks to Angels.

REACHING INTO THE INFINITE

Continued from "ALTO, TEXAS", a Mothers Day post---

I passed through Tyler, the Rose Capitol of the World, and all the roses in planters for sale at the side of the road. They made me think of all my lost loves.
I guess I've been lucky.

I bought a small rose for planting, for momma.  It wont  live, it wont last long down there, but I wanted to do it just the same.

Apparently Tyler is also the Psychic Capitol of the world too. I must have passed 10 places I could go  inside and have my cards read, my fortune told. I wondered what interesting things they might say. I wondered whose face these psychics could conjure when they looked into my eyes, if Madame Cassandra might know where she is, if she could see us naked in her minds eye, if she would know.

If she would know.

It made me think about “The Wizard of OZ” and how Dorothy had run away from home and happened upon  Professor Marvel.  He invites her into his trailer and is going to read her fortune. He has her close her eyes,  in order to be “better in tune with the infinite".

He says " We cant do these things without reaching into the infinite”

And while her eyes are closed he reaches into her purse, and finds the picture of Auntie Em. He tells Dorothy that somewhere there is a woman who is worried, with a broken heart, because she has lost something.  Professor Marvel  may be a shyster and a hustler, but he is a very kind man, smart too, and is just trying to do the right thing like any good psychic in tune with the infinite might. And Dorothy realizes he is talking about her Aunt Emily, and takes Toto and runs home to Auntie Em.

Anyway, this was my day dream as I left Tyler, still not knowing what the future might bring. Us humans, we always want to skip to the end of the story, but it just doesn’t work that way. We have to go along, a day at time, a breath at a time, a pain at a time.

And the psychics and rose dealers do it that way too.

I got to Alto where I found a man mowing in front of what had been  Aunt  Verda’s  house.  He said that Mary and Junior were living in Mama’s old property, and that their sons were living across the street now.  I had not expected to find kin there, but I did, 2nd and 3rd cousins.  I took a picture of an old shed that a cousin and I had thrown every potato from good-sized stack of new potatoes at, watching them splat against the wood, delighted. It almost killed Uncle Carroll to see what we had done with his hard work, and Uncle Jack was liable to have killed us if it weren’t for Aunt Laura.

Walking up to the house, I passed where  the root cellar had been. There was no longer a trace. I passed a giant pecan, and there was a big hunk of metal grown into the bark, and I wondered how long it had been there, and which of us cousins might have done the tree this injustice. I put my hand on it, and it felt good to touch this tree that had overseen many a summer day of my youth. In fact it felt kind of like reaching into the infinite, as though the vibrations of every conversation at the family place might be in the vibration of old pecans memory, like the way traces of every meal lay in the metal of a cast iron skillet..

I stepped to the back porch, and my 90 year old cousin Mary came to the door. She had seen me coming up .We recognized each other instantly and we both held each other and I just cried and cried and cried. She said she had been thinking of me just that morning. We sat and looked at pictures for an hour, and then something interesting happened .  Her son came in, a third cousin I had never met. He is only a few years older than I but somehow we never crossed paths.

He sat down after introductions. We told a few stories back and forth and then he had a question for me.  It was one of those questions it takes five minutes to ask and boiled down to this:

“Have you secured eternal life by accepting Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior?

I told him that I had not, that I was a recovering drug addict, and had only recently learned to pray again, and that I was growing closer to a god of my understanding through prayers and meditation, and I was very grateful to God for helping me stay clean, but  that I would leave eternity to my God, and just try to follow my program.

Of course, he doesn’t recognize a god of my understanding, my understanding having failed me most of my life, and I get that point. It didn’t turn into a religious argument, and I’m glad my program has helped me to be tolerant of other peoples views. I assured him that many addicts do find a deeper faith outside of the program, and that I would remain open-minded as my program has taught me to try to be. We closed with a prayer and then the next interesting thing happened.

As we stood up, I took his hand, and I leaned in to hug him. I was surprised to find that this man, full of Jesus love, my third cousin, took a step back in order not to receive my hug. All Gods Childrens is different I guess.

Then  I went for the real reason I was there. I stood next to mom and dad at their grave, and for the first time in forty years I stood next to them clean and sober, involved in a spiritual program that shapes my life as best as I will let it, keeps me striving not so much for eternal salvation, but just to have the strength and courage to do the next right thing one day at a time, and it felt good. It just sure felt good.

I think mom and dad would like that very much.

Me,   I’ll have to leave the infinite for my God and the psychics.

Oh, for those of you who read Part One....yes, Kevins rustic handmade horse training pen is still there, fashioned to gether from 1000 saplings and held together with baling wire, god knows what and Kevins cowboy spirit.
It is a sight to behold. The picture does not do it justice.

JACK AND JENNY

Red Dirt Girl, the Red scribbler, Miss Kitty Cat, 49 Indian, Dorothy in Oz, The Pointy Heeled One, and sometimes Anonymouse... has channeled this to me and wants it posted right away.
She may have been having a little Donkey trouble lately...

"I have always had a problem with donkeys: stubborn, biting, irascible creatures who often think they are mules.
I could never quite figure out how to get their donkey rears in gear.
I've tried the golden carrot on a stick trick - no bite.

hmmm .....
I even tried parading other sexy donkeys in front of him:
Okay... got maybe a "HEE HAW " and a Horses laugh.... but still immovable.
I began to really feel like a Red Dirt Loser.

I mean, well - how HARD IS IT to get your ASS in gear ?? "

"Ahhhh........ if I had only known ....... how simple and how, how ....... perfectly right. And to think I wasted all that time ........trying to out-Mule a Mule!"

RED DIRT GIRL

WHAT WEIGHS MORE: A POUND OF GOLD OR A POUND OF FEATHERS?...

One of my NA Facebook pals asked me what I thought was the "measure of a man"....


I'm not too good at straight answers.

I'm still in a Scarecrow mode, so I'll answer with an anecdote from "The Wizard of Oz" that puzzles me from time to time...
"When it came time to give the Tin Man his heart, the wizard says:"The size of a heart is not measured by how much it loves, but by how much it is loved by others""
On a lighter note, I have attached a picture of Roy Rogers... without Roy.

I LOVE ROY ROGERS

By the way its the feathers that weigh more.

THE FAMILY GEWELS

Gewels and me are goin' on a date maybe someday!
I sure am hopin' so.
I have been wanting to do a post so that I can maybe say
'Welcome to the Family, Gewels"
but I thought I didn't know her well enough.
I thought I might maybe put her and another sister (who cannot be with us presently) together somewhere in Oz. i just don't have that formed in my mind yet and I wanted to recognize Gewels now regardless of what I don't know.
We all like her.
What else can one say?
Is there any other material maybe relevant here?
I know that she's had rough go the last several months and currently qualifies her as what Dylan called one of "these battered brothers and sisters of mine" on an album subtitled 'Songs of Redemption".
ActuallyI just looked and that phrase must maybe come from elsewhere.
Can't say where. Don't recall.
Could maybe be anywhere.
Whatever.
I took a fast liking to her straightforward sly sense of humor (she likes to try to bust my chops) and am finding her kind and soft words spread throughout my own newfound blog family. She seems to take to Tropical climes and brings home nice pictures from picturesque places.
I wan't her to know that for every maybe there is another maybe.
Maybe's are inevitable.
And, she has nice toes.
Based on that, I give you Gewels, and a "Song of Redemption" from 'Desire".


MOZAMBIQUE
I like to spend some time in Mozambique
The sunny sky is aqua blue
And all the couples dancing cheek to cheek
It's very nice to stay a week or two
And maybe fall in love just me and you.

There's a lot of pretty girls in Mozambique
And plenty time for good romance
And everybody likes to stop and speak
To give the special one you seek a chance
Or maybe say hello with just a glance.

Lying next to her by the ocean
Reaching out and touching her hand
Whispering your secret emotion
Magic in a magical land.

And when it's time for leaving Mozambique
To say goodbye to sand and sea
You turn around to take a final peek
And you see why it's so unique to be
Among the lovely people living free
Upon the beach of sunny Mozambique


DON'T LOOK NOW BUT ITS A DOUBLE POST DOO-DAH DAY

THE WIZ

"no mere mortal can resist the evil of the thriller"

The Christmas Holiday of my 9th Grade year, under the guise of ‘Christamas Caroling” I met up with several Neighborhood friends. After regaling the first house with a rousing rendition of “Where Shepherds Lay” we paired up and headed for the fields and bushes for the purpose of ‘making –out”.
Up to that point I did not know who Rhonda was, but there is a certain ‘growing closer” that can be experienced by the simple act of a very wet kiss. We grew very close that night. Wanting to grow closer still we ‘Caroled” nightly in the trusty woods, all the way to New Years Eve.
It was all so simple then.
For the next year and half, Rhonda was my girl. She had curly hair and a very cute ‘Button’ (word of the Week?) nose and when she said “R-Ruff’ it drove me wild. We had Purple Pants and Green Felt shoes with stars on them that matched and of course there were the Captain America shirts we wore with this get up always on the same day. Oh God.
Our shoes always matched.

We used to go to “Skateland” on Friday nights. The music of the day was “I’d Like to Buy the World a Coke”, ’My Sweet Lord” “American Pie” and “Rockin’ Robin”. ‘Rockin’ Robin “ was one of my favorites by Michael Jackson.
"Tweet-tweet...tweeedly-deet"
So simple then.
As we skated, we danced, and on the ‘Couples Skate” we got to hold hands and they would play something slow like “Nights in White Satin” or "Killing Me Softly"and Rhonda and I would gaze into each others eyes. Then, "All Skate" and the lights would come back on and they would crank it back up with ‘Bad Moon Risin’”.

It was all so prophetic, and Rhonda moved to Phoenix. Five years later, a married Rhonda came to town for her friends Wedding and we went to dinner. We could have taken up where we left off. R-R-Ruff.

During my Senior Year, love found me again by way of “Susie the Slut”. We were Engaged for a time, but she had sense enough to break it off before we made a really big mistake.
I will explain her nickname in another post because this post is about (was supposed to be about) the Movie we went to see. It was called “The Wiz” and it was the Soul Version of the “Wizard of Oz”. Playing the Scarecrow was none other than little Michael Jackson.
Now we all knew that Michael could dance from his "ABC" and “Rockin’ Robin” days, but the exhibition he put on in this Movie was unbelievable. It was but a warm up for Michael, just a precursor of what he would do in the next 10 years.
So where is this really going?
The music for Barbaras Party of course. I would suggest for her Party that she needs to have one of the best selling albums ever...its not something I sit around and listen to, but it is great for Dancin'! I remember watching The Boys from the Crystal Crotchless dance to this stuff. It took me a while to find the genius in it.
Michael Jacksons “Thriller”.
Vincent Price doin' the Rap part:
"And whosoever shall be found
Without the soul for getting down
Must stand and face the hounds of hell
And rot inside a corpses shell"

Pretty scary, huh?

I will also nominate what I think is the best Live album ever done and mandatory boogie for the crowd I party with.
Littlefeat’s “Waiting for Columbus”...from start to finish this album rocks with its slow southern syncopated style. With “Tower of Power” providing horns and Lowell George still at large, from ‘Fat Man in the Bathtub” to "Rocket in my Pocket" to “Willin'’’ this album gets me movin’ every time.

Gewels said that 'Dixie Chicken" stayed with her all day long last week.

"Many years since she ran away,

yes that guitar player shore could play

she always liked to sing along

she always ended with a Song"

THE ANTI-MEDUSA

PART OF THE BLOGGERS THAT MAKE MY DAY SERIES
Medusa was one of 3 sisters. She had Snakes for hair, a double-ugly scowl permanently stuck to her face and turned men to stone were they to see her. She had a nasty disposition and was a terror of the underworld. In the 3rd grade I was so fascinated with her that I did a report om her and had a meeting with my Principal to discuss her. Later in life I would have other meetings with other Principals, but this is not about me.
Here in Oz we have the Anti-Medusa. She has shiny Green Hair, the flashiest laser beam smile in the Universe and I can feel the laughter and warmth coming past the satellite or through the fibers or whatever it is that the Internet is. she turns me into a gallon of Butter Double Nut Crunch Ice Cream.

Somewhere over the Rainbow and in another Galaxy, there are little Green Haired men trying to build a Rocketship just to come to Earth to see Annelisa. They are working day and night.
Their doctors and Dentists have charts and full color glossies using her as a guide. Did I mention her smile yet?
Their Religious Leaders argue and write great volumes over whether she be a Deity or merely the most High, for she is Graced with Gods Bounty.
And the Scientists just keep working on that Rocketship. Night and Day.
Their whole Culture is based on either finding her or being more like her in every way.
She enters Forests that become enchanted upon her arrival. I would wager that were she to walk through Saint Annes Court, or Soho, or even Doncaster that the Enchantment meter would Red Line.
Did I mention her smile?
Now you may have heard of Blogathons and Carnivals and such, but her site is pure Picadilly 3 Rings Circus every day. And like so many of you kind ladies, she responds at length to each and every comment she receives, even mine, bringing a quick familiarity to fast friends all over the World. I imagine her to be able to type 1000 words a minute, even underwater.

The Trees spruce and leaf
The hills roll for her.
The dales dole for her and
The moles they mole for her.
The Swans hey-ho-bonny-o for her.
(pleas'do follow the link for she is the Harp playing alone)
The chipmunks genuflect for her
The clouds of the sky billow and sail for her
And Sparrow takes to his wing.
Some where a Rocketship flames for her.
Did I mention her smile?


Oh how I would love to be a frog in her Garden. I would imagine along the trails she enchants, the frogs are fairly lined up, fascinated, dreaming of being smacked by her.
Better keep a sharp eye, Girl!

CUTTY SARK

My first snockering was with dads Cutty Sark. 

Susan Peebles spent the night with my sister. I drank a 6 oz glass just straight up out of
the bottle, no ice, nada. I have vague recollections of being placed in the shower, and laughing my ass off, then waking up the next morning, smelling like whiskey and Herbal Essence shampoo, covered in coffee grounds with an invisible railroad spike sticking out the front of my head.
The coffee grounds were from my sisters feeble attempt to make coffee.

The railroad spike, I guess we've all had that one.
Took about 4 days to get over it, and I still cant handle the smell of whiskey.

In fact, just looking at the label makes my head swim.

I AM IRONMAN!

I am sitting here wearing to my new cologne from Avon and listening to an old Black Sabbath album from 1970. Its the first of the Heavy Metal Fragrances and forever changed the smell of Rock and Roll.
From the Avon catalog::
“A victorious fusion of energizing Mercury, Lead, Plutonium 239 and exotic Isomers spiked with real Slag. Comes in 2.5 fl. oz. The essence of mind-body excellence. Ironman is the ultimate triathlon race involving three endurance events: a 2.4 mile swim in heavy boots of lead, a 112 mile bike ride through a Magnetic Field and a 26.2 mile run in order to take vengeance by filling you full of dread”

I can’t wait for them to come out with “Paranoid”


Has he lost his mind?, Can he see or is he blind
Can he walk at all? Or if he moves will he fall?
Is he live or dead? I see thoughts within his head.
We'll just pass him there. Why should we even care?

He was turned to steel in the great magnetic field!
When he traveled time for the future of Mankind.
Nobody wants him He just stares at the world.
Planning his vengeance that he will soon unfurl.
Now the time is here for ironman to spread fear.
Vengeance from the grave kills the people he once saved
Nobody wants him they just turn their heads.

Nobody helps him now he has his revenge.

Heavy boots of lead fills his victims full of dread.
running as fast as they can Ironman lives again.
from the album paranoid, balck sabbath, 1970