A blast from the past

...or, if you wish, Throwback Thursday on a sunny Saturday morning.

Below is a song you probably haven't heard or sung in years and years. It occurs to me that if you were not brought up in the U.S. you may not have sung it at all. But no matter. Now is the perfect time to do it. It sprang to life in my brain today, unbidden, full-grown, just like Athena purportedly did from the forehead of Zeus. (Truth in blogging: I do not accept as true any so-called facts recorded in ancient Greek myths. Be that as it may, enjoy!):


"She'll Be Coming 'Round The Mountain"

She'll be coming round the mountain when she comes (toot, toot!)
She'll be coming round the mountain when she comes (toot, toot!)
She'll be coming round the mountain, she'll be coming round the mountain,
She'll be coming round the mountain when she comes (toot, toot!)

She'll be driving six white horses when she comes (whoa, back!)
She'll be driving six white horses when she comes (whoa, back!)
She'll be driving six white horses, she'll be driving six white horses,
She'll be driving six white horses when she comes (whoa, back!)

Oh, we'll all go out to meet her when she comes (hi, babe!)
Oh, we'll all go out to meet her when she comes (hi, babe!)
Oh, we'll all go out to meet her, we'll all go out to meet her,
We'll all go out to meet her when she comes (hi, babe!)

She'll be wearing red pajamas when she comes (scratch, scratch)
She'll be wearing red pajamas when she comes (scratch, scratch)
She'll be wearing red pajamas, she'll be wearing red pajamas,
She'll be wearing red pajamas when she comes (scratch, scratch)

Oh, she'll have to sleep with Grandma when she comes (snore, snore)
Oh, she'll have to sleep with Grandma when she comes (snore, snore)
Oh, she'll have to sleep with Grandma, she'll have to sleep with Grandma,
Oh, she'll have to sleep with Grandma when she comes (snore, snore)

(source: https://www.lyricsondemand.com/miscellaneouslyrics/childsongslyrics/shellbecomingroundthemountainlyrics.html)

As if that weren't enough, I know two more verses that the cited source does not include. They should be inserted just before the final verse:

Oh, we'll all have chicken and dumplings when she comes (yum, yum)
Oh, we'll all have chicken and dumplings when she comes (yum, yum)
Oh, we'll all have chicken and dumplings, Oh, we'll all have chicken and dumplings,
Oh, we'll all have chicken and dumplings when she comes (yum, yum)

Oh, we'll all have biscuits and gravy when she comes (slurp, slurp)
Oh, we'll all have biscuits and gravy when she comes (slurp, slurp)
Oh, we'll all have biscuits and gravy, Oh, we'll all have biscuits and gravy,
Oh, we'll all have biscuits and gravy when she comes (slurp, slurp)

So there are seven verses in all. Now go back and sing that song over again, this time inserting the additional verses. I'll wait now while you do it. Return to the next paragraph when you are finished.

Surprise, you are not finished! To sing the song the way we used to sing it, build upon the previous parenthesized stuff in the last line of each verse. That is, the last line of the second verse is "toot, toot! whoa, back!"; the last line of the third verse is "toot, toot! whoa, back! hi, babe!" and so on through all seven verses. For the cherry on top, don't just say "snore, snore" at the end of the seventh verse; make actual snoring sounds instead.

Now go back and re-live your childhooe, I mean my childhood.

You have just wasted valuable time that you will never regain, but wasn't it a lot of fun?

The world may well be going to Hell in a handbasket but I'm definitely in my second (or third or fourth) childhood. I've reached the age (or mental state) where I sometimes don't care any more. Well, I do care, but that is a post for another day.

An end-times lament bubbles to the surface

I wrote the following words more than 20 years ago. They are more than a poem. They are lyrics to a song for which I also wrote the music.


"Perhaps Today"

Perhaps today....
Perhaps today the Lord will come for His own.
Perhaps today we'll worship Jesus 'round His throne.
The skies will part and with a shout Christ will appear.
It's very near,
Perhaps today.

Perhaps today....
Perhaps today the Lord will catch away His Bride.
Perhaps today we'll see His hands, His feet, His side.
Oh, how we're looking for our Savior's soon return.
How our hearts yearn.
Perhaps today.

Perhaps today....
The shining Daystar will arise within my heart.
The dark of night will end, eternal day will start.
The Lord has promised to return. God is not slack.
He's coming back,
Perhaps today.

Perhaps today....
We'll be with Christ in glory on that blissful shore.
We'll praise and magnify His name forevermore.
The Lamb of God will be the object of our song.
Oh, Lord, how long?
Perhaps today.
Oh, Lord, how long?
Perhaps today!


Neither the poem nor the music has ever been published. The state of the world being what it is nowadays, however, I decided to share the poem here on my blog today.

On this day in 1809

...a male child was born in Kentucky to Thomas Lincoln and his wife, Nancy Hanks Lncoln. They named the child Abraham. Fifty-six years later, while serving as president of the United States, Abraham Lincoln was assassinated by actor John Wilks Booth at Ford's Theater in Washington, DC.

It won't be mentioned on any news broadcast today because sixty years ago Lyndon Baines Johnson persuaded Congress to combine Liincoln's Birthday and George Washington's Birthday (February 22nd) into a single observance called Presidents Day in order to create a new national holiday and give federal employees another three-day weekend off from work. This year Presidents Day occurs on Monday, February 16th.

Sorry, Abe.

Also, sorry, George.

Some of us still remember when both of you were remembered for your individual accomplishments and not just as part of a group.

To add insult to injury, a few weeks ago the U.S. Mint announced that production of the Lincoln penny, a one-cent coin produced since 1909, has been discontinued.

Fortunately, we still have the Jefferson nickel, the Roosevelt dime, and the Washington quarter. but I haven't seen a Kenndy half-dollar in a very long time.

I heard today that one bitcoin is worth fifty-six thousand dollars ($56,000.00 USD).That is a lot of pennies.

As usual, there is no rhyme or reason, no flow or continuity, to my post.

Why should today be any different?

That's probably the very question Lyndon Bains Johnson should have been asking.

January is fast coming to a close

...and February will soon be upon us. Time keeps marching on, relentlessly, in spite of all our efforts to slow it down.

The ink on the New Year's resolutions isn't even dry yet (I didn't make any, by the way) and this year is already 8% gone, or will be as of 12:01 a.m. on Sunday, er, Saturday night, er, take your choice.

This is now my fifth post of 2026, my 2,321st since this blog began on September 28, 2007. That's a lot of water under the bridge or over the dam or wherever it goes went.

I'm rambling.

I'm so old I remember B.O. Plenty and his daughter Sparkle Plenty in the Dick Tracy comic strip. I remember Jubilation T. Cornpone andd Mammy Yokum in the Li'l Abner comic strip. I remember Mutt and Jeff. I remember the Katzenjammer Kids.

Mrs. RWP (the lovely Ellie) and I must be regressing. We have spent many an evening recently watching old black-and-white episodes of What's My Line? and To Tell The Truth from the 1950s and 1960s. Seems like yesterday, but it was 65, 70 years ago that we watched them originally. Another sign of my advanced age.

I'm not complaining. It's good to be alive and kicking, even with all the alarming and disheartening goings-on in the news as of late. As some wag (not me) once said, "Halitosis is better than no breath at all."

T.T.F.N.

I got a dream, you got a dream, all God’s children got a dream

Today, January 19th, the United States is (British, are) observing a federal holiday in honor of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.'s birthday even though his actual birthday occurred last Thursday. Dr. King was born on January 15, 1929, in Atlanta, Georgia, and was assassinated by James Earl Ray in April 1968 in Memphis, Tennessee. In recognition of Dr. King's dream, all banks, schools, and government offices are closed and mail delivery is suspended, but commercial establishmenrs are open for business as usual. Go figure.

January 19th also happens to be the 80th birthday of Dolly Parton and the 217th birthday, if anyone cares, of the leader of the Confederate forces against the Union during the U.S. Civil War (1861-1865), General Robert E. Lee. Dolly was born in 1946 (as was Donald J. Trump) and Robert E. Lee was born in 1809 (as were Abraham Lincoln and Alfred, Lord Tennyson).

But enough already with the brain dump. Instead, let's all go out there and work on the content of our character as we interact daily with others. No one is guaranteed another breath. I recall that two of my work colleagues were taken in an instant. Bill Montague died in a horrific automobile collision on I-24 in Tennessee. Kenn Pollari was walking across a street in Phoenix, Arizona, when a speeding car struck and killed him. Both gentlemen had expected to sit down to dinner with family and friends later in the day.

Emma in Iowa may tell me I'm wandering again. Maybe the very thing the world needs right now is fewer protesters and more wanderers.

Then again, maybe not.

Maybe I shall turn into The Putz (David Barlow of Tooele, Utah) before your very eyes. If you came along too late to experience his unique, almost indecipherable blogposts, you don't know what you missed.

All of us have dreams of one sort or another. Some live to see them come true. Some never do.

This is my fourth post of 2026 and my 2,320th since this blog began on September 28, 2007.

Better late than never

One day in the spring of last year, when Mrs. RWP's 90th birthday was about three months away, I remembered that when her father turned 80 back in 1975 his son had arranged for the then-President of the United States, Gerald R. Ford, to send written birthday greetings. We didn't bother to do something similar on Mrs. RWP's 80th birthday because she is a staunch Republican and the occupant of the White House at the time was a Democrat. But now that a Republican occupies the office I did a little investigating and learned that the practice of sending presidential greetings to older Americans at significant milestones in their lives is still being observed.

So I jumped through a few hoops took the necessary steps to learn how the process worked. I contacted our Congressional Representative's office with the information needed for similar greetings to be sent to Mrs. RWP (the lovely Ellie) from our current president, Donald J. Trump. The only caveat in the process was a warning to be sure to send the information at least a month to six weeks in advance of the event. Since Mrs. RWP (the lovely Ellie) would be observing her birthday towards the end of July, I provided the information in May. I told no one so that everyone would be surprised.

Mrs. RWP's birthday ultimately arrived, and during the day's festivities the whole family gathered for pictures in our back yard (British, garden):

...but no letter ever arrived. I thought perhaps it might show up in a day or two. I waited. And waited. And waited some more.

It didn't. No letter ever came. I was very disappointed but didn't share my disappointment with anyone. After 2025 turned into 2026, however, I finally mentioned to my wife about a week ago what I had done and expressed regret that the surprise for her birthday had never materialized (British, materialised).

Lo, and behold! (as comedian Brother Dave Gardner used to say), today I was the one who got the surprise.

The letter arrived, nearly six months after Ellie's birthday.

It contained both Donald Trump's and Melania Trump's signatures, though they are indecipherable.

Better late than never, although I am tempted to say better never than this late.

At least it did finally arrive.

This is my third post of 2026 and my 2,319th since this blog began on September 28, 2007.

I know it's raining cats and dogs because I can see the poodles

I am not a big fan of rain, and right now, according to my Apple phone, North Georgia is in the middle of a "Flood Watch" that started yesterday and will last until at least this evening. The rain has been pouring down, upsetting everyone's plans (well, maybe not everyone's) and interfering with normal daily activities to the extent it can.

Things could be worse. We could live in Malibu, California, or Hong Kong where mudslides occur (I still remember the one in the film "The World Of Suzie Wong" unless my brain is playing tricks on me again). Speaking of California, the communities of Malibu and Pacific Palisades and Altadena in Los Angeles County could have used some of this wet stuff last year. Unfortunately, they burned to the ground because nearby reservoirs were empty.

Don't tell me to have a stiff upper lip, wear overshoes, and carry an umbrella. I might do that in an emergency but not as a part of daily existence. Places like Seattle and Jolly Olde England and the Amazon rain forest may be nice to visit, but I wouldn't want to live there.

I think I remember that the Olympia peninsula in the Pacific Northwest state of Washington receives more rain than any other part of the United States. Parts of Florida run a close second. When we lived in Palm Beach County for six years (I was with IBM in Boca Raton), one year we received 108 inches of rain. And Hillsborough County, where Tampa is, is called the lightning strike capital of the nation. In Florida, it may pour and pour, but half an hour later the sun is shining and the ground is dry because all of the water has been absorbed into the sand. Georgia, which has red clay, is not so fortunate. When deluges like the one we're currently getting come, the ground quickly becomes saturated and downright soggy. Any low, flat places flood quickly. Fortunately, we live near the top of a hill, so unless the rain comes down in such amounts that the tops of the mountains are covered and there is enough water to float Noah's Ark, I should and will stop complaining.

This is my second post of 2026 and my 2,318th post since this blog began on September 28, 2007.