Sunday, February 28, 2016
The Arguments of Music
“It’s no use,” cracked Happy. “The Earbud God
fetched ‘em back.”
He had awakened at three for the bathroom,
and couldn’t get back to sleep. So he plugged
in the earbuds.
His thing was wartime music. Bing Crosby,
The Andrew Sisters with Don’t Sit Under
the Appletree.”
“All those blocky clothes. The women looked like
football linebackers,” mused Dorothea.
“You want, instead, the lousy garage bands of eternity?
Or the crap you have today with shit lasers shooting
everywhere and the cretinous audience waving at the
glazed performers!”
“I’ve seen some of the latter actually responsive!”
“Hey!” he stamped it. “With Bing you got every word!”
“Unfortunately. Maudlin sick crap full of true love
while the whole world cheated.”
“Better than today’s incomprehensible Horst Wessel Song!–-
new propagandist smear-jive to further dull the dull wits.”
The earbuds never found. New ones bought to transmit
the historical past.
Happy again, well, happy.
Labels: Andrew Sisters, Bing Crosby, earbuds, Horst Wessel Song, lasers, Music, music history, musical styles, wartime
Saturday, November 14, 2015
The Appetities of Women
Turning Cliff
When Tess returned from her crazy fling in the Poconos,
Cliff instantly forgave, which really knocked her off-stride.
“He’s too good!” she complained to Letzy, who agreed.
They decided to toughen him up! Final object: The
Anti-Cliff!
Succeeded so well that Betts Harkin, who had just
moved from Scranton, gathered him up. “Hey! I thought
too much Brotherly Love in the City of Brotherly Love!
Then I met Cliff and forgot all the little feminine ones!”
Now, Tess spurned! When she tried to complain to
the “Broads Only Thursday Wine Group,” she was told
to shut up. “Besides, any man that can be switched
back and forth like that isn’t worth shit!”
That last from old married woman, Delsey Karks,
with the--don’t you know?--perfect husband!
The following week he pulled a rowboat up to
the Gas Company dock. Dressed as a pirate mid
roses! Assorted.
He “kidnapped” her from her desk mid squeals aplenty
from the other women.
They rowed to dinner in Manayunk, troupadored by
Biffer Hoxley and his guitar .
Prisoner of Love and other Bing Crosby era passions.
‘No freakin taste!” Together remark Tess and Letzy .
watching them out the tall window.
“What’s a swash anyway?” Letzy asks.
“I don’t know, but I bet she can’t wait for him
to buckle it.”
“Can you UNbuckle it?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised.”
Channel Six had covered, and the subsequent rowing back
of Biffer, alone.
For some reason, they wanted to further cement the “Old
Lady Demographic,” with the poignant shot of Biffer
leaving the rowboat, trudging the pier to the parking lot.
Anchor Destiny D’Onofrio, who had graduated from Archbishop
Carroll with Tess, sent her the story on her phone before it aired,
and she threw it up on the largest screen in the office.
A party was ensuing where staff, and interns heading back to
college, ingested cake.
Tess thought she'd try a slice. “My fifth!” bragged Dinah Dell from
Villanova. “Sugar High, like, totally insured! But, hey! that’s some
Major-League Butt up there!” shrieked she as Biffer eased the guitar
into his Fiat.
Labels: Bing Crosby, fling, jealously, married love, News-6, Philadelphia, Poconos, relationship, serenade, sexual appetite, sugar high, women
