Footprints in the Snow
Ya gotta hear Bill Monroe do this one. Bumba and Maybank sung this wonderful song yesterday and I am posting it just to present it – to introduce it to you. And if you like it at all please refer to the great Bill Monroe.
There’s a lot of Bill Monroe on UTube, and of course even more on records, CDs, etc. The father of Bluegrass did not write this one, but it was one of his signature songs. Of course, you must hear it sung by Bill Monroe – who could reach those high notes with such facility. And play the mandolin so masterfully. And knock off these wonderful songs in a New York minute – or was in a Kentucky Blue Moon? The lyrics to this song are among the most beautiful and pleasing to my mind, which I admit is not saying much. But check out the great Bill Monroe and this lovely song despite everything I’ve been saying.
A Short Tale of a Dog
A Short Tale of a Dog
I am a dog. And may I point out that I do not say that “I’m a dog” in any sort of figurative, and certainly not in any pejorative sense. I am an actual dog. That’s right, a dog. I am the proud posssessor of four legs, two long, floppy ears, a tail, and a friendly canine disposition that makes me man’s best friend – and woman’s best friend too, I may add.
I live at 34 Elm Street. I think we’re in the city of St. Louis, but I’m not 100% sure about that. I live with a family of four humans. They take good care of me. I eat well. Mostly chicken bits and that dry kibble stuff, which isn’t bad once you get used to it. Sometimes I get a bone!
I sleep a lot. Actually, most of my time is spent sleeping, which I have to say is quite nice. I have a decent-sized back yard. I get taken for walks every day, sometimes twice a day, which I particularly enjoy.
I get my end in every now and then depending on the season, if you know what I mean. And generally I socialize, I fraternize, quite a bit. I have several good friends here on Elm Street, and there are others I meet from time to time at the park. All in all, it’s quite a fine life this is. No complaints from this dog!
As for the promised story, the short tale, maybe I’ll work on it when I wake up from my nap. After all, I’m a dog.
Before I go, let me ask you this: Why does a dog turn itself around three times before it lays down?
That’s right! Because one good turn deserves another!
Westside Drive
OK, OK. I’ve posted this one before. It’s a song that I wrote back in New York thirty five years ago. Yikes! They tore down the West Side Drive right after I wrote this song. But they can’t hold that on me. I had already moved on. Other highways called.
The old Westside Drive had narrow lanes, tons of sharp curves, and sections paved with lumpy cobblestones – which made it quite an interesting experience in the rain or snow. I remember the Westside Drive fondly. I still like to sing this song, and the other day I was playing around, adding a second track (but no train, sorry). I put it on Soundcloud, and I want to see if I can link to Soundcloud. Here goes:
Driving in the morning sun on the West Side Drive
Just another day to be alive
And everybody’s got some place to go
Everybody’s acting like they know
I’m leaving you
Sitting back I’m looking at a dream
Traffic going by like an unconscious stream
But, hey baby, don’t you call so low
I could come back, but what for?
I’m leaving you….
And so on.
Friday Fictioneers
This Friday’s photo prompt for the Friday Fictioneers courtesy of R.W. is this bar: 
Magruder sat at the downtown bar room. It was already 3:30 in the afternoon. He had yet to make a sale.
Magruder was tired. His feet hurt.
The vacuum cleaner business wasn’t what it used to be, but what was?
People would ask him: “How’s the vacuum business, Mac?”
Magruder would respond:
“The vacuum business? It sucks! Ha Ha”.
Old joke, but what the heck. It was true.
He smiled to himself and slugged down his beer.
What a business! What a life!
Magruder looked across the room at the bar maid. She wasn’t a bad looker. Maybe later.
The Results of the Bumbastories World-Wide Worst Word Contest
The entries are in and the winner has been chosen!
First, thanks to all the brave and intrepid readers who were moved by civic duty enough to read contest posts #1 and #2, and sent in their nominations for the most objectionable word in the world.
Well, (and there’s another one, WELL!) a number of the entries were extremely objectionable. AWESOME was like a very AWESOME entry, and even writing it now bothers me. LIKE was also like a REALLY good choice for a bad word.
But basically, the judges, who went through all the entries with a fine-tooth comb that had a couple of teeth missing, basically they decided on BASICALLY.
Yes, BASICALLY. You see BASICALLY is a BASICALLY a boring word: Unnecessary and BASICALLY a pain in my you know what.
The winner is Madhu, the blogger who suggested BASICALLY as the most objectionable word in the world after a careful consideration of perhaps five minutes. Madhu, by the way, has one of the most interesting and lovely sites on WordPress. Check it out if you’ve never seen it.
Madhu wins a free copy of Up in the Bronx. Some might object that Madhu is too nice a person to receive such a prize, but basically once she receives the book she’ll just have to deal with it. Congrats Madhu and thanks to all the participants.
The Cement Elephants Speak Out On Matters Spiritual
Most people gravitate toward the concrete as opposed to the spiritual. (And this universal and genetically-wired preference is in no way any slight on the cement elephants who appear at the bottom of this page).
People, most people, simply like to talk about concrete subjects: money, food, bargain internet provider rates. Things like that. Boring stuff generally. The world of fashion, recipes. Their health and their appearance of course. These are elemental interests. Animal interests, you could say.
However, there remains the spiritual realm. Here one must talk of Art, the Seven Muses, Quantum Physics, the Music of the Heavenly Spheres (also seven, why is that, Billy?), Religion perhaps (well, maybe not religion). Anyhow, it’s the Spiritual. It calls to us.
Just last week Bumbastories recorded the following conversation between the cement elephants, Franklin and Hubert:
“Ah Franklin! Praise be the glory of the midday sun. Even to us cement elephants, limited in our travel options to this lake of tar, stuck in the mud, so to speak, for eternity. Even to us the midday sun shines as a beacon of hope.”
“Amen, Brother Hubert!”
“Yes, Franklin. I believe in taking a spiritual outlook on life, I do.”
“You are wet behind your ears… I mean wise beyond your years, Brother Hubert.”
“Thank you, Franklin.”
More Words to Grind your Teeth To
Bumbastories thanks the brave and intrepid readers who commented on the “Worst Words” of the week challenge. Entries and comments are still welcome, though. We want everyone to have a chance. The Grand Prize for the most objectionable word remains a copy of Up in the Bronx, the celebrated novel by yours truly. And it is still up for grabs. So far there’s been some strong support in some of the Blue states for awesome. Women voters like like. Well, they kinda do. Hispanic voters in Red areas remain uncommitted. The jury is still out! Meanwhile Bumbastories is moving things along (or not moving at all as the case may be) in presenting a follow-up chapter in this War of the Words International Competition.
Today we focus on the journalists, that much-maligned (well, deservedly so) collection of keyboard punchers, texters, tweeters, and dweebs who have a proclivity for all sorts of adverbial abuse.
First to mind is the ever-present utterly. Most of us regular citizens do not abuse this word (which always sounds a bit awkward to me, sounds too much like an udder, which doesn’t sit well in ordinary conversation and that’s no bull, sorry. Sorry for milking that joke). In any case, or (to put the the TV pundit’s spin on it) THAT BEING SAID, journalists utter the words UTTER and UTTERLY utterly too much (sorry again)(and again).
Utter confusion. Utter disarray. There is no plain old confusion nor any partial disarray in the newspapers. It’s utterly amazing. Really!
Other words that are popular. And very annoying!
Sustainability
Transparency. (Honesty is a forgotten commodity, truth and openness too much to expect).
Talking about too much to expect, REALLY, were you expecting anything better from this blog? I MEAN, LIKE….. well YOU KNOW???
There are others. Please send in your nominees for the most teeth-grinding, irksome, when-will-they-stop-using-that-word-all-the-time? word in the world.
Words That Make Me Grind My Teeth
Bumbastories announces a world-wide competition:
Words that you can’t stand. Words that you wish other people wouldn’t say all the time. Words that are trite. Words that are just dumb and people use them way too much. Like all the time!
And sometimes you even hear yourself using them!
Words like ACTUALLY. The way some people apparently feel compelled to pepper their admittedly bland speech with ACTUALLYs. As in “ACTUALLY I was just leaving the building, but now that you’re here I think I’ll ACTUALLY stay for some lunch”
Actually, sometimes I myself …..(Ooops)
Then there’s the silly little SO. Now SO is all right in its place. In the beginning of a sentence SO is just fine. As in “So, as I was saying…”
Or “So, what’s the story, Jerry?”
People often say “I am SO sorry”, and I guess that’s all right. But it’s starting to push it a little bit.
Because before you know it, it’s “I am SO excited about that new TV show. Like (Oh yeah, there’s another one: LIKE. One of the perennials) Like (sorry) “I am SO into this group”.
There’s way too much of this SOOO-ing going on.
There are, unfortunately, lots of words that make me grind my teeth, as the title says. Like a scratchy chalk on a damp chalkboard.
Words like………
Well, you fill in the blanks. Send in your favorite hated words (No oxymoron intended) Send in your comments, which are always welcome of course. Last week Bumbastories did a feature article on “you guys”, so you can’t use that one.
Please send in your nominations for the most annoying words. There are plenty of ‘em. Words that ruffle your feathers, rankle your rinky dinks, irk your Earkel, pull your chain, get your knickers in knots, and shiver ye timbers. Words that……
The winner of this special competition wins a free copy of Stephen Baum’s Up in the Bronx novel. Second place prize is two free copies of Up in the Bronx.
Let It Be
Here (No pun intended with hear) this song of wisdom and elegance played by Bumba so you could sing along.
This is a
SING ALONG CHALLENGE.
And, believe me, once you hear the piano playing you’ll understand why I used the word challenge.
Click on either of the buttons below only if you’re going to sing along. Bumba has spared you the pleasure of his croakings and pretty much played an accompaniment for your vocal. Sort of a karaoke thing. The song Let It Be by Lennon&McCartney is a great rock/pop classic!
Click either one to sing Let It Be. Warning: the second one is kind of sad.
Often on this blog I’ve presented old songs that I consider classics and certainly one test of the quality of a work of art is its endurance over the passage of time. So we ponder here at Bumbastories (we do an awful lot of pondering here at Bumbastories), we ponder which of today’s songs are of classic quality, i.e., that people will still be singing them 50 or 100 years from now. Certainly the entire Beatle repertoire looks to be off to a good start in this respect. The Beatles are still extremely popular. But which of the Beatles songs -if any – will people be singing in 2113?
Let It Be is one of their most anthemic (Now, how many songwriters have written more than one song that was “anthemic”? Irving Berlin, Gerschwin?) Anyhow, hats off to the great Paul McCartney, and to John Lennon may he rest in peace, to George Harrison may he rest in peace as well, and Ringo, God love him. We hopes you sing along.
The song is a great one, in my opinion, because of the elegance of the chord progression. The words, the imagery of the lyrics are masterful as well. The song is playable by the beginner musician (which is why I play it, and why you can play it too).
The chords (in C) are: C then G, to the Am to the F. The C again. G. F..C.
and the chorus goes into the Am: Am then G, F, C. C, G,F..C
A very simple chord progression that no one had done before. Or since, except for when they play this song. Huh?
Library Blues
This week’s Friday Fictioneers (100 words or less) photo prompt, courtesy of Rochelle W, is this lovely bookshelf, which bears a strange resmblance to
our friend’s George Packard’s personal bookshelf. So….so prompted:
George Packard, retired schoolteacher, straightened out the books in his bookcase. He stepped back to admire his collection. He basked in a familiar feeling of satisfaction: a lifetime of reading, of learning. What happiness these books had brought him!
Ach! But why was he saving them all? Hoarding them? Savoring them so? Was he going to read them all again? Why all this clinging? This holding on?
