Wednesday, May 26, 2010

I’m no longer Alabamy bound


[Update: Because of a rare malady called bloggerus idioticus, yours truly neglected to include the link to the video clip at the place in this post where it should be possible to link to a video clip. This oversight has now been corrected, yours truly has been severely reprimanded, and the link is working properly. --RWP, May 26th, 1600 hours EDT]

We drove over to Alabamistan on Sunday afternoon. As usual, we first threw a couple of loads of laundry into the washing machine (one at a time, of course) and then into the dryer (ditto), turned up the thermostat on the air conditioner (because north Georgia has already had temperatures above 90 degrees Fahrenheit), bought two new toothbrushes, packed our suitcases, dropped off Jethro at his favorite doggie dude ranch, and we were on our way.

I wanted to include at this point in this post a video clip of someone singing “I’m Alabamy Bound” and accompanying him- or herself on the banjo, but the clips I found that included banjos had no singing and the clips I found that included singing had no banjos. The nearest thing I found was a man who accompanied his singing (I use the term loosely) on something called an Autoharp, but it is my goal to keep you wonderful folks out there in Blogland coming back to my blog, not running from the room with your hands over your ears.

Having just missed last week’s 31st annual Do Dah Day parade in Birmingham, Mrs. RWP and I have consoled ourselves on this trip by attending (a) the birthday party of one grandson and (b) the presentation of honors by their school to two grandsons.

Today we have returned to our beloved Cherokee County, Georgia, where accompanying oneself on an Autoharp while singing “I’m Alabamy Bound” is considered a crime against humanity.

What the heck, I’m going to go ahead and throw in the video clip anyway just to get your reactions. It may help, while watching and listening to it, to try to picture the original manuscript of the poem “Kubla Khan” ten seconds after poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge had penned the words “A damsel with a dulcimer...”

On second thought, no, it won’t.

7 comments:

Yorkshire Pudding said...

I really don't think that cowboy hat suits you Robert... On a more serious note - do any American people still hang out their washing to dry on lines or airers? The persistent use of electric dryers is a crime against the environment in my view - especially when it's good drying weather outside.

rhymeswithplague said...

Some people do still hang out their washing to dry on lines in American. They are considered both strange and underprivileged by everyone else.

Yorkshire Pudding said...

So I guess that means you do hang your washing out?

Pat - Arkansas said...

I'd laugh at Yorkshire Pudding's comments, but I'm saving my breath for walking around singing "I'm Alabamy Bound."

A Lady's Life said...

If I could only have a clothes line I would love to hang the clothes on the line. There is nothing like it. But instead we use the drier or hang on hangers to dry cause people don't like outdoor laundry.
Washing carpets out in the snow with a broom is just the best way to clean the dust from them. We used to do it all the time.Not anymore.:(

rhymeswithplague said...

Comment sections of blogposts often take on a life of their own. I thought the discussion here would center around banjos or Autoharps or really bad singing or maybe even damsels with dulcimers.

But no. Thanks to the irrepressible YP, it has become about drying clothes.

I do know for a fact from living in Texas as a boy that if you hang out your sheets to dry and there are mulberry trees in the vicinity, the birds will do their best to turn your sheets purple.

Katherine said...

Yes Robert, best not to have expectations while YP's about.

I guess hanging the washing out to dry is a bit like taking a bus journey. Or eating food at home that you made yourself from entirely home-grown ingredients: meats, fruits and vegetables. All three of these activities would earn you approval and praise in New Zealand... And in the States the assumption might be that you were too poor to do otherwise.

I heard of a conversation recently that went something like this: "(American accent) so, ah notice yore country has bin terrible hard hit by the depression."
"(Kiwi accent) oh no - we always live like an third-world country, and we're proud of it!"