It happened again

Another of those "wake up from a sound sleep with the complete lyrics of an old song playing in my head" moments, Athena springing full-grown from the forehead of Zeus as it were, occurred this morning. Actually it was two songs this time, or, more accurately, two halves of the same song, and the song was "You're Just In Love" by Irving Berlin as sung by Ethel Merman and Russell Nype in Call Me Madam.

If there was ever any doubt, I know I am old because that song has to be 70 years old if it's a day. I remember hearing Ethel Merman and Russell Nype sing it on Ed Sullivan's Toast Of The Town program on a Sunday night on our old black-and-white, 12-inch screen, Philco television set when I was nine or 10 years old, and I was born in 1941. And there it was this morning, singing itself in my brain, complete with images of Ethel and Russell.

All the foregoing show-biz facts were dredged up typed without referring to any source. Here are the lyrics of the song, also typed sans reference to any source:

I hear singing and there's no one there
I smell blossoms and the trees are bare
All day long I seem to walk on air
I wonder why, I wonder why
I keep tossing in my sleep at night
And what's more I've lost my appetite
Stars that used to twinkle in the skies
Are twinkling in my eyes, I wonder why

You don't need analyzing,
It is not so surprising
That you feel very strange but nice
Your heart goes pitter-patter
I know just what's the matter
Because I've been there once or twice
Put your head on my shoulder
You need someone who's older
A rub-down with a velvet glove
There is nothing you can take
To relieve that pleasant ache
You're not sick, you're just in love

Back in the day, Russell Nype sang the first section and Ethel Merman sang the second section, and then they joined forces and sang their separate tunes together at the same time. And trust me, even though Russell's part had eight lines and Ethel's part had 12 lines, it all meshed together nicely and they both finished at the same time. In music I believe doing this is called counterpoint.

I would include an audio clip or perhaps even a video clip, but I think you should do some things for yourself.

I may be an idiot savant (though that term has fallen out of use) or I may just be an idiot.

And (as if you needed further proof) there is this, of course:

Here are some recent answers on Jeopardy! that I knew but which none of the real contestants could answer:

What are cargo cults?
What is Kilauea?
Who is Philip II?
What is fudge?
What is cathode?
What is Mount Rainier?
What is the Louvre?
Who is Jesse James?

Your Honor (British, Honour), I rest my case.

I will never understand Feedjit

I mean, when I look into its machinations it becomes curiouser and curiouser.

For example, just within the last 24 hours:

Someone in Taichung, T’ai-wan [sic] did a search on westminster abbey cross stitch and landed on this post.

Someone in Hollywood, Florida, did a search on evie chitty miss america and landed on this post.

Someone in Luxembourg did a search on emmy award statue and landed on this post.

Someone in South Shields, South Tyneside in the U.K. did a search on Newt Ascending Astaire’s Face and landed on this post.

Now that is just sad.

What gives, anyway? In The King and I, Yul Brynner sang a song called “Is...A Puzzlement!” and I share his confusion.

But, lo and behold, sometimes everything comes up roses (3:15).

For example, someone in Bayonne, New Jersey, did a search on the lord’s prayer in albanian and actually landed on the Lord’s Prayer in Tosk (Albanian).

And someone in Moscow, Russia, did a search on бенедикт XVI играет на рояле (Russian for benedict XVI plays the piano) and landed here. which though not exactly about Benedict XVI playing the piano does include a photograph of Benedict XVI playing the piano.

And someone in Ashburn, Virginia, did a search on welcome sweet springtime we greet thee in song and landed on “Welcome, sweet Springtime, we greet thee in song!”

So it appears that sometimes Feedjit seems to work as expected and sometimes it simply doesn’t. Sometimes it makes sense and sometimes it just seems to close its eyes and choose targets at random from everything out there in the wild blue cyber-yonder.

Just like real live human beings do.

A mind is a terrible thing to waste.

Or, as Vice President Dan Quayle once said, “It’s a terrible thing to waste one’s mind.” I think he gave us his garbled version around the time he said, “Why, yes, thank you, I believe I will have another potatoe.”

The older I get, the weirder I get. I admit it. (Honesty is the best policy.) One day a couple of weeks ago I woke up with “Jambalaya” running through my head and posted about it, as the few faithful readers of my blog may recall. Where it came from, I have no idea. Since today is Sunday, the Lord’s Day, you might think I would wake up thinking of “Holy, Holy, Holy” or “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God” or even “Jesus Loves Me,” but no. Instead, I woke up with the lyrics of Irving Berlin’s “You’re Not Sick, You're Just In Love” playing inside my head, sung by Russell Nype and Ethel Merman.

Proof:

(Him):
I hear singing and there’s no one there;
I smell blossoms and the trees are bare;
All day long I seem to walk on air;
I wonder why,
I wonder why.
I’ve been tossing in my sleep at night;
And, what's more, I’ve lost my appetite;
Stars that used to twinkle in the skies
Are twinkling in my eyes;
I wonder why.

(Her):
You don’t need analyzin’,
It is not so surprisin’,
That you feel very strange but nice.
Your heart goes pitter-patter,
I know just what’s the matter,
Because I’ve been there once or twice.

Put your head on my shoulder,
You need someone who’s older,
A rubdown with a velvet glove.
There is nothing you can take
To relieve that pleasant ache,
You’re not sick, you’re just in love.

Then he (Him, Russell Nype) and she (Her, Ethel Merman) started singing their parts in counterpoint, which means they sang two different tunes at the same time, interweaving the melodies, and it was all very impressive. Eventually Ed Sullivan came onstage to announce next week’s rilly big shoe. I think these particular memories are circa 1950 -- Irving Berlin’s Call Me Madam and TV’s Toast of the Town combined, all tucked away in black and white in the recesses of my gray matter.

Please believe me when I tell you that I didn’t look up any of the lyrics to create this post. I didn’t have to. They were just there, inside my forehead, waiting to spring forth full-grown like Athena from the forehead of Zeus.

It’s not like I went out of my way to memorize the lyrics to that song or anything, any more than I went out of my way to forget what I ate for dinner last Tuesday evening. It’s just how things are. I can remember Ethel and Russell from 60 years ago. I can’t remember what went down my gullet last week.

As I said, a mind is a terrible thing to waste.

I have a theory. Nothing we ever say or do or hear or see is forgotten. It’s all stored away in our brain somewhere, awaiting the Judgment Day, when everything will be brought into the light. Before that day arrives, however, God in His mercy allows us to purge ourselves of some of the nonsense we’ve collected on our way to the big event, much like Mrs. RWP often skims the fat off the top of the chicken soup she makes. Out with the bad; in with the good, and all that. Not that chicken fat is bad. It does have its uses. You just don’t want too much of it in your soup. And the more gunk we remove from our insides, the more room there is in there for God. Either we remove it voluntarily or we will have it removed forcibly from us later. Finally, in the end, I think, we will hear nothing but Him.

It’s my theory and I’m sticking to it.

I also believe in serendipity. For example, I just discovered this clip on Youtube wherein Kristin Chenoweth and Nathan Lane sing this very song. In keeping with the changes that have occurred in our world, Kristin sings Russell Nype’s part and Nathan sings Ethel Merman’s part.

One thing I do know for sure. Nathan Lane is no Ethel Merman. Okay, so she’s a little long in the tooth in that clip. So for you show-biz purists out there, here is the one, the only, Ethel Merman, a bit earlier in her career. One gets the feeling she could have kept on singing for hours.

Let J. Danforth Quayle try to top that! Politics only cloud the mind. Nothing clears the cobwebs away like a good Ethel Merman medley.

What was I saying again?