Wednesday, September 12, 2007

Fast Forward from Ralph-The Land that made me me

Saying for the Day-O! Call back yesterday and bid time return. ~ William Shakespeare

This came in the E-mail yesterday from Ralph and I so enjoyed it that I thought I would share it.
The Land That made Me Me

Long ago and far away,
In a land that time forgot,
Before the days of Dylan,
Or the dawn of Camelot.
There lived a race of innocents,
And they were you and me,
Long ago and far away
In the Land That Made Me Me.

Oh, there was truth and goodness
In that land where we were born,
Where navels were for oranges,
And Peyton Place was porn.
For Ike was in the White House,
And Hoss was on TV,
And God was in His heaven
In the Land That Made Me Me.

We learned to gut a muffler,
We washed our hair at dawn,
We spread our crinolines to dry
In circles on the lawn.
And they could hear us coming
All the way to Tennessee,
All starched and sprayed and rumbling
in the Land That Made Me Me.

We longed for love and romance,
And waited for the prince,
And Eddie Fisher married Liz,
And no one's seen him since.
We danced to "Little Darlin'",
And Sang to "Stagger Lee"
And cried for Buddy Holly
In the Land That Made Me Me.

Only girls wore earrings then,
And three was one too many,
And only boys wore flat-top cuts,
Except for Jean McKinney.
And only in our wildest dreams
Did we expect to see
A boy named George, with Lipstick
In the Land That Made Me Me.

We fell for Frankie Avalon,
Annette was, oh, so nice,
And when they made a movie,
They never made it twice.
We didn't have a Star Trek Five,
Or Psycho Two and Three,
Or Rocky-Rambo Twenty
In the Land That Made Me Me.

Miss Kitty had a heart of gold,
And Chester had a limp,
And Reagan was a Democrat
Whose co-star was a chimp.
We had a Mr Wizard,
But not a Mr T,
And Oprah couldn't talk, yet
In the Land That Made Me Me.

We had our share of heroes,
We never thought they'd go,
At least not Bobby Darin,
Or Marilyn Monroe.
For youth was still eternal,
And life was yet to be,
And Elvis was forever,
In the Land That Made Me Me.

We'd never seen the rock band
That was Grateful to be Dead,
And Airplanes weren't named Jefferson,
And Zeppelins weren't Led.
And Beatles lived in gardens then,
And Monkeys’ in a tree,
Madonna was a virgin
In the Land That Made Me Me.

We'd never heard of Microwaves,
And "gay" meant fancy-free,
And dorms were never coed
In the Land That Made Me Me.

We hadn't seen enough of jets
To talk about the lag,
And microchips were what was left at
The bottom of the bag.
And Hardware was a box of nails,
And bytes came from a flea,
And rocket ships were fiction
In the Land That Made Me Me.

Buicks came with portholes,
And side show came with freaks,
And bathing suits came big enough
To cover both your cheeks.
And Coke came just in bottles,
And skirts came to the knee,
And Castro came to power
In the Land That Made Me Me.

We had no Crest with Fluoride,
We had no Hill Street Blues,
We all wore superstructure bras
Designed by Howard Hughes.
We had no patterned pantyhose
Or Lipton herbal tea
Or prime-time ads for condoms
In the Land That Made Me Me.

There were no golden arches,
No Perrier’s to chill,
And fish were not called Wanda,
And cats were not called Bill.
And middle-aged was thirty-five
And old was forty-three,
And ancient was our parents
In the Land That Made Me Me.

But all things have a season,
Or so we've heard them say,
And now instead of Maybelline
We swear by Retin-A.
And they send us invitations
To join AARP,
We've come a long way, baby,
From the Land That Made Me Me.

So now we face a brave new world
In slightly larger jeans,
And wonder why they're using
Smaller print in magazines.
And we tell our children's children
of the way it used to be,
Long ago, and far away
In the Land That Made Me Me.

(author Unknown)

@@@@ News from Pigeon Falls-The little town in my basement where the trains still run, dragons fly, and Petrovich has translated another driblet.- Not only does poor Pigeon Falls have no pigeons and bad coffee with Nancy gone on her honeymoon but Petrovich has tacked another driblet to the bulletin board in the Town Halland published it on his website. He says that he is not sure what it means but the first line assures him that it applies to Pigeon Falls. Here is the driblet:

Hard times in the City of the Birds with no birds.
White! White! White!
My eyes hurt.
I am so cold.
Where are the four legged ones?
White ! White! White!
(Untranslatable line)
I am so cold.
Nothing to hunt.
Even the wolf turns away.
The King’s men can’t help.
White! White! White!
My eyes hurt.
It is so cold.
Where are the birds? Bring back the birds.
How long?
The music stops. No singing.
White! White! White!
My eyes hurt.
I am so cold.
Help comes but it does not help.
The King’s men know nothing.
White! White! White!
My eyes hurt .
It is so cold.
Where is the song?
Where is the singer?
Sing! Sing! Sing!
I can not stand the white.
I am so cold.
( Untranslatable line)
I will look no more at this vision.
I need a warm drink.
At this point the prophet ceases to speak and falls into a deep sleep.
******

Today's Link-Marginalized Action Dino- Some thoughts on Canadian politics.
Breathing was a little better today. Tomorrow I go to see the Lung doctor. I put a shelf together in the basement this morning. I watched my soap. Betty went to the doctor and her eyes are doing fine. My regular DR. called and all my lab tests were fine. After Betty came back from the Doctor we went to the Post Office. I got last Friday's prize out before the next drawing. Wow! I"m baking some bread. Now I need a breathing treatment.
GBYA

6 Comments:

Blogger Margaret said...

The poem made me giggle, reading it from the other side of things.

5:51 AM  
Blogger bazza27 said...

Great send from Ralph, so many struck a chord, but I particularly liked the bit about microchips.

6:55 AM  
Blogger Stacy said...

Thanks for sharing the poem, Dr. J. I'd seen parts of it before, but never the whole thing. Funny!

7:03 AM  
Anonymous quilly said...

I loved the poem! And I think the folks in Pigeon Falls might want to lay in extra firewood for this winter.

9:48 AM  
Blogger Kev Brown said...

A mighty fine poem, and with that many verses it could have been Bob Dylan who wrote it!

9:53 AM  
Blogger Janvangogh said...

Sounds like Gregnicov got stuck in a blizzard. I thought Pigeon Falls was in the UP. So how is this a problem?

12:18 PM  

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