Song Lyric Sunday: The Streak

Image contains: Abbie, smiling.This feature is being hosted temporarily by Jim Adams while Helen Vahdati, the blogger who originally created it, is recovering from health issues. The theme this week is “laughter.” I couldn’t find a song about this, so I’m posting one I hope will make you laugh. It was popular in 1974 when running around in the buff was a fad. Enjoy a good laugh today. It’s the best medicine.

The StreakRay Stevens

Lyrics Couretesy of Google

 

Hello, everyone, this is your action news reporter
With all the news that is news
Across the nation
On the scene at the supermarket
There seems to have been some disturbance here
Pardon me, sir, did you see what happened?
Yeah, I did
I’s standin’ over there by the tomaters
And here he come
Running through the pole beans
Through the fruits and vegetables
Nekkid as a jay bird
And I hollered over t’ Ethel
I said, “Don’t look, Ethel!”
But it’s too late
She’d already been incensed.
Boogity, boogity
(There he goes)
Boogity, boogity
(And he ain’t wearin’ no clothes)
Oh, yes, they call him the Streak
(Boogity, boogity)
Fastest thing on two feet
(Boogity, boogity)
He’s just as proud as he can be
Of his anatomy
He goin’ give us a peek
Oh, yes, they call him the Streak
(Boogity, boogity)
He likes to show off his physique
(Boogity, boogity)
If there’s an audience to be found
He’ll be streakin’ around
Invitin’ public critique
This is your action news reporter once again
And we’re here at the gas station
Pardon me, sir, did you see what happened?Yeah, I did
I’s just in here gettin my tires checked
An’ he just appeared out of the traffic
He come streakin’ around the grease rack there
Didn’t have nothin’ on but a smile
I looked in there, and Ethel was gettin’ her a cold drink
I hollered, “Don’t look, Ethel!”
But it was too late
She’d already been mooned
Flashed her right there in front of the shock absorbersBoogity, boogity
(He ain’t lewd)
Boogity, boogity
(He’s just in the mood to run in the nude)Oh, yes, they call him the Streak
(Boogity, boogity)
He likes to turn the other cheek
(Boogity, boogity)
He’s always makin’ the news
Wearin’ just his tennis shoes
Guess you could call him uniqueOnce again, your action news reporter
In the booth at the gym
Covering the disturbance at the basketball playoff
Pardon me, sir, did you see what happened?Yeah, I did
Half time, I’s just goin’ down thar to get Ethel a snow cone
And here he come, right out of the cheap seats, dribbling
Right down the middle of the court
Didn’t have on nothing but his PF’s.
Made a hook shot and got out through the concessions stands
I hollered up at Ethel
I said, “Don’t look, Ethel!”
But it was too late.
She’d already got a free shot
Grandstandin’, right there in front of the home teamOh, yes, they call him the Streak
Here he comes again.
(Boogity, boogity)
Who’s that with him?
The fastest thing on two feet
Ethel? Is that you, Ethel?
(Boogity, boogity)
What do you think you’re doin’?
He’s just as proud as he can be
You git your clothes on!
Of his anatomy
He’s gonna give us a peekOh, yes, they call him the Streak
Ethel! Where you goin’?
(Boogity, boogity)
Ethel, you shameless hussy!
He likes to show off his physique
Say it isn’t so, Ethel!
(Boogity, boogity)
If there’s an audience to be found
He’ll be streakin’ around
Invitin’ public critique
Ethelllllll!
Songwriters: Ray Stevens
The Streak lyrics © CLEARBOX RIGHTS, LLC OBO AHAB MUSIC COMPANY, AHAB MUSIC COMPANY INC

 

My Books

 

My Ideal Partner: How I Met, Married, and Cared for the Man I Loved Despite Debilitating Odds

That’s Life: New and Selected Poems

How to Build a better Mousetrap: Recollections and Reflections of a Family Caregiver

We Shall Overcome

My Other Links

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Like me on Facebook.

Song Lyric Sunday: A Spoon Full of Sugar

Image contains: Abbie, smiling.This feature is now being hosted by newepicauthor. This week’s theme is “doctor/health/medicine.” As Mary Poppins says in this song, “In every job that must be done, there is an element of fun.” If I can listen to music while doing the most mundane tasks, they’re more fun for me. Enjoy, and see if you can find an element of fun in your daily chores. That will make bitter pills easier to swallow.

A Spoonful of SugarJulie Andrews

Lyrics Courtesy of Google

 

In every job that must be done
There is an element of fun
You find the fun and snap!
The job’s a game
And every task you undertake
Becomes a piece of cake
A lark! A spree! It’s very clear to see that
A Spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down
The medicine go down-wown
The medicine go down
Just a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down
In a most delightful way
A robin feathering his nest
Has very little time to rest
While gathering his bits of twine and twig
Though quite intent in his pursuit
He has a merry tune to toot
He knows a song will move the job along – for
A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down
The medicine go down-wown
The medicine go down
Just a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down
In a most delightful way
The honey bee that fetch the nectar
From the flowers to the comb
Never tire of ever buzzing to and fro
Because they take a little nip
From every flower that they sip
And hence (And hence),
They find (They find)
Their task is not a grind.
Ah-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h ah!A Spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down
The medicine go down-wown
The medicine go down
Just a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down
In a most delightful way
Songwriters: Richard Sherman / Robert Sherman
A Spoonful of Sugar lyrics © Walt Disney Music Company

 

My Books

 

My Ideal Partner: How I Met, Married, and Cared for the Man I Loved Despite Debilitating Odds

That’s Life: New and Selected Poems

How to Build a better Mousetrap: Recollections and Reflections of a Family Caregiver

We Shall Overcome

My Other Links

Visit my website.

Like me on Facebook.

Song Lyric Sunday: Second Hand Rose

Image contains: Abbie, smiling.This blog feature was created by Helen Vahdati. The theme this week is “new,” and the song is about the opposite. Poor Rose is tired of hand-me-downs and wants to wear new hats, shoes, etc.

The song is in my singing group’s repertoir. Recently, someone suggested we perform it during a style show for a local thrift shop, but I pointed out that it wouldn’t be appropriate because it would give used items a bad name, and the others agreed. I hope you enjoy this second-hand song.

Second Hand RoseBarbra Streisand

Lyrics Courtesy of Google

 

Father has a business strictly second hand
Everything from toothpicks to a baby-grand
Stuff in our apartment came from father’s store
Even clothes I’m wearing someone wore before
It’s no wonder that I feel abused
I never get a thing that ain’t been used
I’m wearing second hand hats
Second hand clothes
That’s why they call me
Second hand Rose
Even our piano in the parlor
Daddy bought for ten cents on the dollar
Second hand pearls
I’m wearing second hand curls
I never get a single thing that’s new
Even Jake, the plumber, he’s the man I adore
He had the nerve to tell me he’s been married before
Everyone knows that I’m just
Second hand Rose
From Second Avenue
From Second Avenue
No
Songwriters: Grant Clarke / James Hanley
Second Hand Rose lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Carlin America Inc

 

My Books

 

My Ideal Partner: How I Met, Married, and Cared for the Man I Loved Despite Debilitating Odds

That’s Life: New and Selected Poems

How to Build a better Mousetrap: Recollections and Reflections of a Family Caregiver

We Shall Overcome

My Other Links

Visit my website.

Like me on Facebook.

Silent Night, Fiction

Image contains: Abbie, smiling.The following short story was published in the fall/ winter 2018-19 issue of Magnets and Ladders. I can think of no better way to commemorate Christmas Day and the 200th anniversary of the creation of “Silent Night” than to include this story along with a recording of me playing and singing the song. Merry Christmas, everyone.

SILENT NIGHT

The day before Christmas, my seven-year-old daughter Hannah was rushed to the hospital for an emergency appendectomy. I opted to spend CHRISTMAS Day with her. My parents, as they’d done every year since the divorce, had invited Hannah and me to their house for Christmas dinner, but I couldn’t leave my little girl alone in the hospital.

Hannah wasn’t on solid food yet, but a nurse offered to bring me a tray, perhaps realizing it would be difficult for me to navigate to the cafeteria with my limited vision. While Hannah slept, I sat by her bed and enjoyed a delicious turkey dinner complete with stuffing, mashed potatoes, green beans, and pumpkin pie. The food was surprisingly good for a hospital.

I said as much to the nurse when she came to collect my tray. “We have a chef now,” she said. “Of course many of our patients are too sick to appreciate it, but it’s certainly better than the fare we used to serve.”

The little girl in the other bed moaned and then started crying in earnest. I looked over and couldn’t see anyone sitting with her. “Oh, that’s Jessica,” said the nurse in a conspiratorial tone. “Poor kid, she fell out of her neighbor’s treehouse yesterday and broke her leg in three places. She’s in a body cast from her chest to her right foot.”

Hannah must have awakened for she said, “Ou, I guess I won’t complain about my tummy anymore. I’m glad I don’t have a treehouse, and I hope Santa didn’t leave me one.”

I marveled at how sensitive my daughter was. As the nurse went to Jessica and tried to comfort her, I said, “How are you feeling, sweetie?”

“I’m okay, but my tummy still hurts.”

“I thought you weren’t gonna complain about your tummy anymore,” I said, as I ruffled her hair.

Hannah giggled, then winced. “Out, Mommy, it hurts more when I laugh.”

“It sounds like you could use some pain medication too,” said the nurse, as she started to leave the room.

“No, it only really hurts when I laugh,” said Hannah.

“Well, in that case, laughter’s the best medicine,” said the nurse. “I’ll be back soon.”

“How old is Jessica?” asked Hannah.

“Oh, I think she’s about your age,” answered the nurse. “I’ll be back in a bit with some medicine for her, and that’ll make her feel better.” With that, she was gone.

Jessica was still sniffling, but it wasn’t as loud as before. “Mommy, you should go sing her a song,” said Hannah. “like you did for me last night when I was really hurting. I’m not hurting as much now, and I think she’s hurting more.”

Years earlier, I’d worked as a registered music therapist. That was before Hannah was born, before I’d started losing my vision, before my world changed. My husband hadn’t wanted a child but was resigned to the idea once he learned I was pregnant. The vision loss after Hannah’s birth was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Fortunately, he paid plenty of child support. That, along with my disability payments, allowed me to be a stay-at-home mom, and once I learned to use a computer with screen reading and magnification software, I brought in a little income from freelance writing.

Now, I looked over at the little girl in the other bed. My specialty as a music therapist had been with elderly nursing home residents, not hospitalized children. I hadn’t even done a clinical practicum with that population. I remembered bed-ridden residents who smiled and relaxed when I sat by their beds, held their hands, and sang. I even performed at some of their funerals. The fact that my singing in the emergency room the night before had calmed Hannah made me think that perhaps I hadn’t lost my touch. I rose and pulled my chair next to the other bed, where I sat and took the child’s hand that lay on top of the white sheet covering her.

“Hi Jessica,” I said. “I’m Joan. My little girl Hannah is in the other bed. What’s wrong?”

“My leg really hurts,” she answered. “I’ll never play in that stupid treehouse again.”

“That’s too bad,” I said, stroking her hair. “Would you like to sing a song with me?”

“Will that make the pain go away?” she asked.

“It’ll take your mind off of it. What’s your favorite Christmas song?”

She was quiet for a minute, then said, “I like Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer.”

“All right, let’s sing it together, shall we?”

I started, and soon, she joined in, followed by Hannah. When we finished that song, Jessica suggested “Jingle Bells,” then “Santa Claus is Coming to Town.” The nurse appeared and said, “What lovely singing. Jessica, I have some medicine that will make you feel better. I’m going to put it in your IV now.”

As she started to do this, I said, “Why don’t we sing one more song?”

“I want to hear you sing something by yourself,” said Jessica. “You have a pretty voice, and so did my mommy. She used to sing to me at night before I went to sleep.” A wistful look crossed her face.

“Why doesn’t she sing to you anymore?” I asked.

“She was killed in a car accident a few months ago,” she answered. A tear rolled down her cheek.

“Oh honey, I’m sorry,” I said, as I stroked her hair. Tears welled in my own eyes.

Holding them back, I said, “What song did your mom like to sing to you this time of year?”

“‘Silent Night,'” she answered.

“Yeah, sing that one, Mom,” said Hannah.

I took a deep breath and began. To my surprise, the nurse joined in, singing alto. Our two voices blending together in harmony was almost too much, but I managed to continue.

As we started the second verse, I sensed a presence at my side and turned to see a man standing there. “Daddy!” Jessica said, her eyes wide with delight.

“Hey princess,” he said, reaching over me and ruffling her hair. Then he said, “oh, don’t stop singing on my account. It’s beautiful.”

His voice broke, and it was all I could do to keep from losing it. We started the song where we’d left off and finished the second verse. To break the spell, I turned to the nurse and said, “You and I need to talk. I sing in a women’s group that could use an extra voice.”

“Wow, that sounds interesting,” she said. “You also have a nice voice. I need to see to other patients, but I’ll come back later after my shift, and you can tell me more about it.” She turned and started to leave the room.

Jessica’s father put a hand on my shoulder and said, “You and I also need to talk. It’s only been two months since I lost my wife, and I never dreamed I’d say this to another woman, but could I buy you a cup of coffee, maybe in the cafeteria?”

From the doorway, the nurse said, “Our coffee here isn’t as good as the food. Why don’t you two go across the street to Starbuck’s?”

We hesitated. “Your kids will be fine,” she said. “They’re both out of the woods. I have your cell numbers in their charts. If anything drastic happens, I’ll call you. Joan, you’ve been here all day. You need a break. Go!” With that, she was gone.

I looked at this stranger, not knowing what to think. Finally, I said, “I’ve been divorced for about six years. I’m losing my vision, and I never imagined another man would ask me out for coffee.”

I expected him to back away, but instead, he said, “Any man not interested in you is a fool. You’re a beautiful woman. You’re good with kids, and you have a lovely voice.”

Flabbergasted, I said, “You just got here. Don’t you want to spend some time with Jessica?”

Jessica said, “I’m okay. My leg doesn’t hurt so much now that the nurse gave me some medicine in my IV. Daddy, Joan could make you happy like Mommy did.”

“Yeah,” said Hannah. “Mom, I think this guy could make you happy like Daddy did.”

Jessica’s father laughed and said, “I think these two, along with that nurse, are trying to play matchmaker.” He extended his hand. “By the way, I’m Don Gray.”

“Joan Clark,” I said, taking his hand and shaking it.

Still uncertain, I turned to Hannah and said, “Honey, don’t you remember what I’ve told you about not going off with a stranger?”

“Yeah, but he’s not a stranger. He’s Jessica’s dad.”

“She’s got a point,” said Don.

“My dad told me not to go off with a stranger too,” said Jessica. “but he’s okay. He’s been really sad since Mom died.”

I could feel my heart melting as more tears threatened. “Jessica and I could sing another song,” said Hannah. “How about 99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall?”

“Yeah,” said Jessica. She started the song, and Hannah joined in. Laughing, we both made our way out the door.

“Do you need to take my arm?” Don asked.

“Yes, please,” I answered, realizing I’d left my cane in the room. As I grasped his muscular arm and walked with him down the hall, I had a good feeling about this.

 

My Books

 

My Ideal Partner: How I Met, Married, and Cared for the Man I Loved Despite Debilitating Odds

That’s Life: New and Selected Poems

How to Build a better Mousetrap: Recollections and Reflections of a Family Caregiver

We Shall Overcome

My Other Links

Visit my website.

Like me on Facebook.

Song Lyric Sunday: All I Want for Christmas is You

Image contains: Abbie, smiling.This blog challenge was created by Helen Vahdati. The theme this week is “season.” Tis the season for wanting stuff, but this song’s singer is only requesting one thing.

I can relate to this sentiment. Even after six years, all I really want for Christmas is my late husband, but I know I won’t get that wish until, perhaps, the day I leave this world. If our story interests you, check out My Ideal Partner. I hope that this Christmas, you get as little or as much as you want.

All I Want for Christmas Is YouMariah Carey

Lyrics Courtesy of Google

I don’t want a lot for Christmas

There’s just one thing I need
I don’t care about the presents
Underneath the Christmas tree
I just want you for my own
More than you could ever know
Make my wish come true
All I want for Christmas
Is you
I don’t want a lot for Christmas
There is just one thing I need
I don’t care about the presents
Underneath the Christmas tree
I don’t need to hang my stocking
There upon the fireplace
Santa Claus won’t make me happy
With a toy on Christmas day
I just want you for my own
More than you could ever know
Make my wish come true
All I want for Christmas is you
You baby
I won’t ask for much this Christmas
I won’t even wish for snow
I’m just gonna keep on waiting
Underneath the mistletoe
I won’t make a list and send it
To the North Pole for Saint Nick
I won’t even stay awake to
Hear those magic reindeer click
‘Cause I just want you here tonight
Holding on to me so tight
What more can I do
Baby all I want for Christmas is you
YouAll the lights are shining
So brightly everywhere
And the sound of children’s
Laughter fills the air
And everyone is singing
I hear those sleigh bells ringing
Santa won’t you bring me the one I really need
Won’t you please bring my baby to meOh I don’t want a lot for Christmas
This is all I’m asking for
I just want to see my baby
Standing right outside my door
Oh I just want him for my own
More than you could ever know
Make my wish come true
Baby all I want for Christmas is you
All I want for Christmas is you baby
All I want for Christmas is you baby
Songwriters: Mariah Carey / Walter N. Afanasieff
All I Want for Christmas Is You lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing

 

My Books

 

My Ideal Partner: How I Met, Married, and Cared for the Man I Loved Despite Debilitating Odds

That’s Life: New and Selected Poems

How to Build a better Mousetrap: Recollections and Reflections of a Family Caregiver

We Shall Overcome

My Other Links

Visit my website.

Like me on Facebook.

Jingle Bell Pop

Image contains: Abbie, smiling.This Audible original program examines the evolution of popular Christmas songs. Starting with the creation of “Silent Night” a hundred years ago on Christmas Eve, it talks about how such songs as “Jingle Bells” and “Santa Baby” were written and recorded. It includes interviews with songwriters and others who explain how certain songs and albums were produced. In the background, you’ll hear snippets of these songs.

Being a musician and a music listener, I was fascinated to learn what inspired such songs as “All I Want for Christmas is You” and how these songs were written. I made a note of one or two of the Christmas albums mentioned, since no doubt they’re on Amazon Music, so I can ask my Echo device to play them. If you’ve ever wondered how and why these songs were written and sung, Jingle Bell Pop is where you’ll find this information. Even if the only thing you play is the radio, this production will enlighten you.

 

My Books

 

My Ideal Partner: How I Met, Married, and Cared for the Man I Loved Despite Debilitating Odds

That’s Life: New and Selected Poems

How to Build a better Mousetrap: Recollections and Reflections of a Family Caregiver

We Shall Overcome

My Other Links

Visit my website.

Like me on Facebook.

Wednesday Words Poetry Challenge: Fly and Sing (Synonyms Only)

Image contains: Abbie, smiling.The following nonet was inspired by Colleen Chesebro’s weekly poetry challenge and a song. This week’s words are “fly” and “sing,” and you’ll note that I used “carry tunes” and “soaring” as synonyms. You can click the button below the poem to hear me recite it, then play and sing the song that also inspired it.

SINGING CHRISTMAS PRAISES

 

During the holiday season, I
carry tunes of joy, peace, hope, love,
celebrate this holy night
of the blessed Saviour’s birth
with soaring voice, heart,
fall to my knees
while angels
behold
Him.

 

My Books

 

My Ideal Partner: How I Met, Married, and Cared for the Man I Loved Despite Debilitating Odds

That’s Life: New and Selected Poems

How to Build a better Mousetrap: Recollections and Reflections of a Family Caregiver

We Shall Overcome

My Other Links

Visit my website.

Like me on Facebook.