I'm not hot shit in a wineglass, more curried goat in a paper cup

Yes, I still haven't showered, eaten breakfast, etc. No caffeine, no inhibitions, so I started back in on learning this song. Transcribing lyrics helps.

He Hadn't Up Till Yesterday
(sung by Sophie Tucker, 1928)

There's a boy I'm crazy about
And I know he's wild about me
At the love stuff he's not a real sheik man
Cuz I'm the roaring lion, he's the poor weak lamb
Has he squeezed me? No.
Has he pleased me? No.
Has he told me tales of France?
Has he ever kissed me unawares
and whispered, "Honey, take a chance?"

Well, he hadn't. Up till yesterday.
But I guess he will tonight.
I've been on the wrong track long enough,
I'm going to start and do things right.
And when I get my arms around him,
And I hug with all my might,
And if he's never called for his mother,
Then I guess he will tonight

And he hadn't, up till yesterday,
But I guess he will tonight.
I'm going to show him in the parlour
Why a girl turns out the light.
I won't waste any time on talking,
I'll start right in on sight.
And if he's never forgotten his Bible, (heh)
You can bet he will tonight.

Now I'm determined to make him give in.
I'm just crazy to have him begin.
He's not a sheik now, but when I get through,
Ronald Coleman will never do the things he'll do.
Shall I make him? Yes.
Shall I take him? Yes.
Shall I burn him up with bliss?
But up to now, I must confess,
He's never even tried a kiss

Well, he hadn't. Up till yesterday.
But I guess he will tonight.
That son of a gun's going to start right in
Getting next to things alright.
Say, for his love I'm so hungry
That his cheeks I'll start a-bite
And if he's never had his moments, (Whoah ho)
Well I guess he will tonight.

And he hadn't up till yesterday,
But I guess he will right soon.
He may be the slowest man under the sun,
But wait til I get him under the moon.
He's got to love his big fat mama,
He'll get no chance to fight.
And my name isn't Sophie Tucker
If that guy don't fall tonight.

Since reading, somewhere, the other day that the tune and chorus of Charlie on the MTA* were based on The Wreck of the Old 97 I of course had to find that song, which I located at The Blue Ridge Institute. (I don't know how, stumbled in through some back door.)

I've spend the last few days going back and listening again to The Wreck of the Old 97, feeling that learning it might be nice, and then today wandered off amongst some of their other offerings. Reading the backstory for The Vance Song (lyrics here, audio clip at the top) I didn't think I would like it, partly because it says the murderer composed it and sang it before he was executed. But the guy they recorded singing it - wow. He sounds like he's 180 years old and came from Ireland when he was 15 and he was just amazingly evocative. It sounds like it was recorded in someone's kitchen after they'd been drinking. It made me want to write my own death song. I may have to put off dying for a while 'til I can get the recording right.

----------------

*I don't think I made a note about it at the time, but I had to listen to every different version of Charlie on the MTA that I could find after Copperbadge made mention in his steampunk AU story The Dead Isle of the main character singing "Charlie on the MTA" to amuse himself when he's in prison. I hope he hasn't decided to change that, but I don't think he will, as it's a damned fun song. Okay, maybe I really want to learn all of Charlie rather than Old 97.

I'm amused by a bunch of things about "Charlie":

-It's often billed as "Irish music" by people posting it on YouTube. It seems to get covered by Irish bands quite often, but it's pretty firmly American music, I would say.

-In the lyrics is a mention of Scollay Square station (often incorrectly transcribed as "Scully Square Station") - which ceased to exist in 1962. Of course the song was originally composed in 1949, so it did exist at that time, but, as Eor pointed out, it does seem very New England that a place which no longer exists and is so forgotten that people misspell it is still immortalized in a song that's still popular and riffed on. In the Dropkick Murphy's Skinhead on the MBTA the Skinhead's wife hands him a grenade through the window at "Scully Square Station". (I can't quite forgive them for changing 'unlearned' - which is supposed to rhyme with 'return' - to 'unknown.' Why? Yes, that's my OCD showing through.)

Watch the Heebie-Jeebies version! :)

In the 'footnote longer than the entry' department...

ETA Waaaiiit, I just remembered the other thing I wanted to tell you! Ages ago Eor and I had both read a story which we associated with "Charlie on the MTA." We both thought we'd read it in Asimov's within the last 30 years or so, but it turns out it was A Subway Named Mobius, by A. J. Deutch, which came out in 1950 (just after "A Streetcar Named Desire," naturally.) So, a year after the original "MTA" song was written, but before it was really popularized by the Kingston Trio as "Charlie on the MTA" in 1959. It's a pretty cool story, but there's no character named Charlie in it. There ought to be. Professor Turnbull, in fact, the guy they still can't find at the end, his first name is given as Merritt - it should have been Charles. (Or, could someone please write me a spoof where it's "Merritt Turnbull on the MTA"?)

-Yes, the Massachusetts Bay Transit Authority's travel card IS called the Charlie Card because of this song, it's THAT much a part of Massachusetts culture.

So, through daegaer's post I found myself on this page where some guy is cooking through the alphabet and is now on snail porridge and he says Being as comfortably middle-class as I am, and thus filled with impotent rage about the state of the world accompanied by equal feelings of guilt that I don't do anything about it...

I stopped right there and began to wonder, is this what being middle class is about? Impotent rage and guilt? I carefully examined my soul for the guilt, and realized it's pretty much all the impotent rage for me. I'm not guilty about not doing anything about it, I'm angry because I have no prayer in hell of doing anything about the state of the world. I must not be middle class.

Of course I thought "I'll get all kinds of things done, being home today," but what do I REALLY do? Stalk triedenture's LJ for at least 25 posts and fall madly in love with her webcomic. And watched this video which she linked to on YouTube, Flight of the Conchords - Business Time. Great stuff, very funny. :) When I can (some time when I'm not listening for the doorbell for a terribly important package) I'll have to watch more of them.

37) "Politically Correct Bedtime Stories" by James Finn Garner
38) Asimov's science fiction, June 2006

That puts me a week ahead - woot! Only not so woot because I haven't done the things I've got to do for today, yet, and I specifically told eor I'd try to do them before he gets home because he has to work tomorrow and it might be nice to spend some time together.

And because eor's last two entries quoted this song it's going through my head, and I love it and think everyone should be exposed to this song at least once, Adam Brodsky's "The Feel Like I'm Gonna Cut My Head Off Blues." (Giant razor sharp blades are available at Lowe's?) (I don't think Brodsky will mind, as he generally encourages sharing of his music.)

Off to do some things, and stuff.

In my first lines post I turned up that on the first of November I was listening to Mel Brooks music in fast forward (because I was trying to locate the breaks in order to snip the wav files up into mp3s).  In particular the one I was listening to when I posted about it being 'trippy' was "Vorobyaninov's Theme (The Walk Through Russia)" from The Twelve Chairs.  Don't download it because it's from a Mel Brooks movie; you might expect something funny and be disappointed.  It's quiet and melencholic, and better for Halloween than Christmas.

I was good and went to the gym yesterday, though I was also bad and went late, so it was for a very short period of time.  So of course today I went back to bed and slept soundly for another couple of hours after Eor left for work.  There may actually be a connection between the two, as my shoulder was hurting last night so I took a Tylenol PM, which has a small amount of anti-histimine in it to make a person sleep soundly.  If I haven't used it in a while it can make me crash hard. 
( work, retention of employees )

Hm.  Just realized I have one egg left in the fridge.  I was going to do a small shopping trip this morning, but it might be too late, and all I really need is eggs, so maybe a quick walk to the corner store will do.

... (a walk to the corner store happened) ...

Yay, eggs have been fetched and scrambled.  Although I couldn't find them at the first corner store I went to, can you believe that?  Milk, sandwiches, no eggs.   

... (work happened and now I'm home again)...

I forgot to post this.  Because I left my computer downloading Stephen Fry reading The Hitchhiker's Guide.  A huge file - I may need to get it onto a CD, quickly.

Hey, LooksToAlaska - Percy's expanding his shop. 

(And for the rest of you - last year when Hawk was visiting I directed him down to Percy's store to see if he could rent a bike, and Percy just outright lent him one of his own.  Lent his own bike to a guy he never met.  I guess he could tell that here was a guy who was just jonesing to ride.  When Hawk stopped somewhere a guy came up to him and said, "A friend of mine has one like that" - it was an unusual Brazilian bicycle, apparently, and this guy was checking to make sure Hawk hadn't stolen it.  So Percy knows a lot of people who look out for him.)

I was actually looking for an article I saw yesterday in the paper about Bill Cunningham, who used to live down the hall from me, years ago, when I lived in a huge building downtown.  I remember him as round, bouncy, somewhat insane.  No wonder I haven't seen him around in years - he's now skeletally thin and in a wheelchair, one of his legs having been amputated due to developing diabetes.  But he's still doing his art, and it only gets better, apparently.  There were a couple of small photos of his pieces, and I was hoping there was an online version of the story so I could link back to it.  No such luck, or at least I can't find it. :(  I've written to the newspaper, though, maybe they'll be able to help me. 

The connection was that the Percy article was called "Art Thinking" or something like that, so I hoped it was the article about Bill. 

It's a beautiful day and I went for a walk to the Transportation Center (train/bus terminal).  It was a place I new I could use a bathroom and get a drink of water, and then walk back.  Unfortunately I did that after having told Eor that I was going to the Western Prom... I sort of overshot and kept going, so when he went looking for me I was not to be found.  Oops.  So we both had lovely, but independent, walks.  I just didn't expect him to go looking for me, and I hadn't realized until I got moving that I really needed to walk for at least an hour. 

Among the many lovely musical selections I listened to on my way was "Jackie Chan," by (I think) The Toasters. :)  It got me thinking about Jackie Chan movies, the goofy nobility of the characters he usually plays, and thinking of that as to film noir as ska is to jazz...  and don't tell me film noir and Jackie Chan movies are completely incompatible - Cowboy Bebop would give that the lie.  I wish I could write something like that. 

So, I wrote to Rude909 yesterday asking if repeat podcast-type things of his show are available, and he wrote back to me (I'm amazed - he used to only check his email once a week) and said no, but (among many other things) he referenced this show which IS available to listen to whenever you want; Local Motives.  It's the shows, chunked up conveniently into songs and chat, so you can hear (and save) local Maine bands performing live in the studio.  I love this sort of thing.  Unique moments, saved.  Hopefully I'll be able to sit down and listen through some of these, soon.  Now, off to work.

"It was supposed to be a story about roommates.  And then you wanted to stick something about vampires in there."

"And werewolves."

"Mm," he said, nodding, "And then it all piled up, all that Mary-Sue, and it kind of struck you like ape-scent galora."

At least, that was what I thought he said.  As it turned out he was saying "Ape-scent gloriola."  Phwoot!  Listen to this song!  Jose'e Chouinard, the figure skater from Canada, did a routine to it, about eight years ago. Damn, she rocks.  Oh, I can't believe it waited until tonight before I was truly aware of it.  Eor told me it was cool, and how did I not hear it - really hear it - until I was, like... drunk. 

("now, if the sweater has like reindeer on it or is a funny color like yellow, I'm sorry, you can't get away with a sweater like that.  Look for brown or grey or blue.")

Oh yes - this is a drunken post, by the way.