Showing posts with label Johnny Cash. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Johnny Cash. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 18, 2018

A few poems, or Trees have leaves and roots and branches, not all Texans live on ranches

In my old hometown of Mansfield, Texas, 60 years ago, there was an electrician and repairer of television sets named Beverly Bratton. Let me back up and start over. As far as I know, there were no television sets named Beverly Bratton in my old hometown 60 years ago. What I meant to say was that our local electrician and television repairer was named Beverly Bratton, and the point I'm trying to get to is Beverly was a man.

Not a transgendered man, mind you, but a born-male baby whose parents gave a name that sounded decidedly female.

It has happened before. George Beverly Shea, whom everyone called Bev, sang at just about every Billy Graham crusade. Joyce Kilmer, a man, wrote a poem called "Trees". Johnny Cash famously sang about a boy named Sue (3:46) in his San Quentin Prison concert.

If you know of other examples of boys with girls' names, tell me in the comments.

Here, from 1913, is "Trees":

Trees
by Joyce Kilmer (1886 - 1918)


I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast;

A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in Summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;

Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.

Joyce Kilmer looked like this in 1908, when he was attending Columbia University:


Many years later, poet Ogden Nash wrote:

I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree;
Indeed, unless the billboards fall,
I'll never see a tree at all.

Here is Ogden Nash in his youth:


Here he is later in life weariing a spiffy houndstooth jacket, the money for which might have been better spent on dental work:


And many years after that -- today, in fact -- yours truly wrote the following:

Blogposts are made by fools like me, but only God can make a tree.

Here I am at age 27:


I end this post with these trees, whose age I do not know:


Monday, August 29, 2011

It’s Musical Monday

...so I’m taking a little survey.

1. Which version of “P.S., I Love You” do you prefer:
....A. This one by Mel (The Velvet Fog) Torme (2:48) or
....B. This one by Billie Holiday (3:36)? Why?

2. Which version of “Someone to Watch Over Me” do you prefer:
....A. This one by Ella Fitzgerald (4:33) or
....B. This one by Amy Winehouse (4:37)? Why?

3. Which version of “Good Night, Irene” do you prefer:
....A. This one by Eric Clapton and friends (4:01),
....B. This one by Willie Nelson and friends (2:35), or
....C. This one by Johnny Cash (2:42)? Why?

4. Who do you think was higher during the making of the videos in question #3, Eric Clapton or Willie Nelson? On what substance? Audiences count.

5. Rank all seven artists from 1 to 7, with 1 being the artist you like most and 7 being the artist you like least.

It is against the rules to say you don’t like any of the artists.

Also, for your information, there is no such thing as Musical Monday. I made it up. Blogworld does have a Sepia Saturday and a Wordless Wednesday, though. No, I don’t know why. I have yet to find a Meatless Tuesday, but I keep looking.

If enough people like this little survey, we may do another one sometime.

HOLD THE PRESSES! I found Meatless Tuesday. Not my cup of tea. Don’t say you weren’t warned.

Saturday, June 19, 2010

In which the blogger ponders unanswerable questions


Last night before I went to bed I watched The Singing Bee on CMT (Country Music Television), not because I like country music especially but because the only other choices were Leno, Letterman, and reruns of Roseanne on TVLAND.

I have never heard most of the songs on The Singing Bee and it amazes me that so many other people know them all. Wait, I lied. One time several months back I actually knew all the words to “I Walk The Line” as written and recorded by Johnny Cash in 1956.


My friend Tom used to sing it this way: “I keep my pants up with a piece of twine / I keep my eyes wide open all the time / I keep the ends out for the tie that binds / Because you’re mine, please pull the twine.”

But that’s a post for another day.

The only reason I’m telling you about watching The Singing Bee on CMT (Country Music Television) before I went to bed last night is that upon opening my eyes this morning the first words I heard on my own personal Cranium Radio were:

You bring the bourbon, I’ll bring the blonde.

I never heard those lyrics before anywhere and the thought occurred to me that if they are not already part of a country song they should be. Furthermore, I don’t drink bourbon and I’ve never dated a blonde. I’ve never cheated on my wife and I don’t intend to never will. So please explain to me, in 25 words or less, (a) why do we think such out-of-context thoughts? and (b) where do our creative thoughts come from anyway?

Typical answers such as God, the Devil, out of the blue, and too many dill pickles are ineligible for the grand prize, a lifetime supply of these:

Thursday, July 16, 2009

I don't know how we could possibly have overlooked it, but...


Yesterday, July 15, was St. Swithin’s Day.

That's him there in the stained-glass window.

St. Swithin was born about 800 near Winchester, Hampshire, in Great Britain and died July 2, 862. He was bishop of Winchester from 852 to 862. At his request, he was buried in the churchyard, where rain and the steps of passersby might fall on his grave. On July 15, 971, more than a century after his death, his remains were moved inside Winchester Cathedral. According to legend, after his body was moved inside the cathedral, a great storm ensued.

English tradition teaches that since it rained heavily on that day, July 15th will mark the start of a 40-day rainy season. According to the Encyclopedia Britannica, it is a popular belief that if it rains on St. Swithin’s Day, it will rain for 40 days, but, if it is fair, 40 days of fair weather will follow.

Here is a picture of Winchester Cathedral, the only cathedral to have had popular songs written about it, with the possible exception of the ever-popular “Caaaaaaaaaan-terbury, where the wind comes sweepin’ down the plain.”


According to Wikipedia, the song “Winchester Cathedral” was a top ten hit in the U.K. and a number one song in the U.S. in 1966. In related show-biz and political news, Rain was a 1932 movie starring Joan Crawford, and there was once a U.S. Senator from Idaho named Frank Church.

We will close this St. Swithin’s Day observance by listening to Johnny Cash sing “How High’s The Water, Mama?” while watching a clever rebus that illustrates the song’s lyrics perfectly.

If our celebration seems to have become more and more madcap as we went along, we can always blame it on having entered the dog days of summer.

<b> Itineraries are us and other useless information</b>

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