Vegas & The Aftermath - Diary

[RED-DOG]

Not 100% accurate.  Some brain cells do regrow (in the hippocampus).

So how come they still crap in the same water they swim in?

[tikay]

And I suppose younger folks will see this as vomit-inducingly yukky, but my attention was caught by one phrase in particular - how to say so much in so few words. Chew on this .....

Well, we're doin' mighty fine, I do suppose,
In our streak of lightnin' cars and fancy clothes,

In the context of the song, it is just so perfect, & I could ruminate on that for days, it's today's society summed up perfectly. Here's the whole song.

Well, you wonder why I always dress in black,
Why you never see bright colors on my back,
And why does my appearance seem to have a somber tone.
Well, there's a reason for the things that I have on.

I wear the black for the poor and the beaten down,
Livin' in the hopeless, hungry side of town,
I wear it for the prisoner who has long paid for his crime,
But is there because he's a victim of the times.

I wear the black for those who never read,
Or listened to the words that Jesus said,
About the road to happiness through love and charity,
Why, you'd think He's talking straight to you and me.

Well, we're doin' mighty fine, I do suppose,
In our streak of lightnin' cars and fancy clothes,
But just so we're reminded of the ones who are held back,
Up front there ought 'a be a Man In Black.

I wear it for the sick and lonely old,
For the reckless ones whose bad trip left them cold,
I wear the black in mournin' for the lives that could have been,
Each week we lose a hundred fine young men.

And, I wear it for the thousands who have died,
Believen' that the Lord was on their side,
I wear it for another hundred thousand who have died,
Believen' that we all were on their side.

Well, there's things that never will be right I know,
And things need changin' everywhere you go,
But 'til we start to make a move to make a few things right,
You'll never see me wear a suit of white.

Ah, I'd love to wear a rainbow every day,
And tell the world that everything's OK,
But I'll try to carry off a little darkness on my back,
'Till things are brighter, I'm the Man In Black.

[RED-DOG]

No matter how I struggle and strive,
I'll never get out of this world alive.

Hank Williams.

[tikay]

This is almost certainly too cheesy for most, but again, it has a certain flavour, a certain something which sums up America. Note the enboldened piece.

I walked through a county courthouse square
On a park bench, an old man was sittin' there.
I said, "Your old court house is kinda run down,
He said, "Naw, it'll do for our little town".
I said, "Your old flag pole is leaned a little bit,
And that's a ragged old flag you got hangin' on it".
He said, "Have a seat", and I sat down,
"Is this the first time you've been to our little town"
I said, "I think it is"
He said "I don't like to brag, but we're kinda proud of
That Ragged Old Flag

"You see, we got a little hole in that flag there,
When Washington took it across the Delaware.
and It got powder burned the night Francis Scott Key sat watching it,
writing "Say Can You See"
It got a rip in New Orleans, with Packingham & Jackson
tugging at its seams.
and It almost fell at the Alamo
beside the Texas flag,
But she waved on though.
She got cut with a sword at Chancellorsville,
And she got cut again at Shiloh Hill.
There was Robert E. Lee and Beauregard and Bragg,
And the south wind blew hard on
That Ragged Old Flag

"On Flanders Field in World War I,
She got a big hole from a Bertha Gun,
She turned blood red in World War II
She hung limp, and low, a time or two,
She was in Korea, Vietnam, She went where she was sent
by her Uncle Sam.
She waved from our ships upon the briny foam
and now they've about quit wavin' back here at home
in her own good land here She's been abused,
She's been burned, dishonored, denied an' refused,
And the government for which she stands
Has been scandalized throughout out the land.
And she's getting thread bare, and she's wearin' thin,
But she's in good shape, for the shape she's in.Cause she's been through the fire before
and i believe she can take a whole lot more.

"So we raise her up every morning
And we bring her down slow every night,
We don't let her touch the ground,
And we fold her up right.
On second thought
I *do* like to brag
Cause I'm mighty proud of
That Ragged Old Flag"

[tikay]

No matter how I struggle and strive,
I'll never get out of this world alive.

Hank Williams.

Cash even wrote about Hank Williams - "The Night Hank Williams Came to Town". I've never heard of him.

Harry Truman was our president
A coke an burger cost you thirty cents
I was still in love with Mavis Brown
On the night Hank Williams came to town.

"I Love Lucy" debuted on TV
That was one big event we didn't see
'Cause no one stayed at home for miles around
It was the night Hank Williams came to town.

Mama ironed my shirt and daddy let me take the truck
I drove on out to Grapevine and picked old Mavis up
We hit that county line for one quick round
On the night HANK WILLIAMS came to town.

A thousand people sweltered in the gym
Then I heard someone whisper; "Hey, that's him"
That's when the crowd let out this deafening sound
It was the night Hank Williams came to town.

On and on he sang into the night
'Jambalaya', 'Cheatin' heart', 'I saw the light'
How'd they get Miss Audrey in that gown
On the night Hank Williams came to town.

Mavis had her picture made with Hank outside his car
She said; "He sure is humble for a Grand Ole Opry Star."
Mavis said: "Why don't we hang around
It ain't often that Hank Williams comes to town."

While Hank signed his autograph on Beaulah Rice's fan
Mavis got acquainted with the Driftin' Cowboys Band
The effect on all our lives was quite profound
On the night Hank Williams came to town.

[RED-DOG]

Well, how do you do, Private William McBride,
Do you mind if I sit down here by your graveside?
And rest for awhile in the warm summer sun,
I've been walking all day, and I'm nearly done.
And I see by your gravestone you were only 19
When you joined the glorious fallen in 1916,
Well, I hope you died quick and I hope you died clean
Or, Willie McBride, was it slow and obscene?

Did they Beat the drum slowly, did the play the pipes lowly?
Did the rifles fir o'er you as they lowered you down?
Did the bugles sound The Last Post in chorus?
Did the pipes play the Flowers of the Forest?

And did you leave a wife or a sweetheart behind
In some loyal heart is your memory enshrined?
And, though you died back in 1916,
To that loyal heart are you forever 19?
Or are you a stranger without even a name,
Forever enshrined behind some glass pane,
In an old photograph, torn and tattered and stained,
And fading to yellow in a brown leather frame?

The sun's shining down on these green fields of France;
The warm wind blows gently, and the red poppies dance.
The trenches have vanished long under the plow;
No gas and no barbed wire, no guns firing now.
But here in this graveyard that's still No Man's Land
The countless white crosses in mute witness stand
To man's blind indifference to his fellow man.
And a whole generation who were butchered and damned.

And I can't help but wonder, no Willie McBride,
Do all those who lie here know why they died?
Did you really believe them when they told you "The Cause?"
Did you really believe that this war would end wars?
Well the suffering, the sorrow, the glory, the shame
The killing, the dying, it was all done in vain,
For Willie McBride, it all happened again,
And again, and again, and again, and again.

[RED-DOG]

I was sittin in miami pourin blended whiskey down
When this old gray black gentleman was cleanin up the lounge

There wasnt anyone around cept this old man and me
The guy who ran the bar was watchin ironsides on tv
Uninvited, he sat down and opened up his mind
On old dogs and children and watermelon wine

Ever had a drink of watermelon wine? he asked
He told me all about it, though I didnt answer back
Aint but three things in this world thats worth a solitary dime,
But old dogs and children and watermelon wine.

He said, women think about they-selves, when menfolk aint around.
And friends are hard to find when they discover that youre down.
He said, I tried it all when I was young and in my natural prime;
Now its old dogs and children and watermelon wine.

Old dogs care about you even when you make mistakes;
God bless little children while theyre still too young to hate.
When he moved away I found my pen and copied down that line
bout old dogs and children and watermelon wine.

I had to catch a plane up to atlanta that next day
As I left for my room I saw him pickin up my change
That night I dreamed in peaceful sleep of shady summertime
Of old dogs and children and watermelon wine.

[Eck]

Talking of cash this is one of my favourites.





However I was amazed to find out that the writer of this song was Sting, i'll do you a favour and not post his rendition as it just feels so wrong.

[tikay]

He does Humour too - I never tire of the wordiness in this.

Well, I left Kentucky back in '49
An' went to Detroit workin' on a 'sembly line
The first year they had me puttin' wheels on cadillacs

Every day I'd watch them beauties roll by
And sometimes I'd hang my head and cry
'Cause I always wanted me one that was long and black.

One day I devised myself a plan
That should be the envy of most any man
I'd sneak it out of there in a lunchbox in my hand
Now gettin' caught meant gettin' fired
But I figured I'd have it all by the time I retired
I'd have me a car worth at least a hundred grand.

[CHORUS]
I'd get it one piece at a time
And it wouldn't cost me a dime
You'll know it's me when I come through your town
I'm gonna ride around in style
I'm gonna drive everybody wild
'Cause I'll have the only one there is a round.

So the very next day when I punched in
With my big lunchbox and with help from my friends
I left that day with a lunch box full of gears
Now, I never considered myself a thief
GM wouldn't miss just one little piece
Especially if I strung it out over several years.

The first day I got me a fuel pump
And the next day I got me an engine and a trunk
Then I got me a transmission and all of the chrome
The little things I could get in my big lunchbox
Like nuts, an' bolts, and all four shocks
But the big stuff we snuck out in my buddy's mobile home.

Now, up to now my plan went all right
'Til we tried to put it all together one night
And that's when we noticed that something was definitely wrong.

The transmission was a '53
And the motor turned out to be a '73
And when we tried to put in the bolts all the holes were gone.

So we drilled it out so that it would fit
And with a little bit of help with an A-daptor kit
We had that engine runnin' just like a song
Now the headlight' was another sight
We had two on the left and one on the right
But when we pulled out the switch all three of 'em come on.

The back end looked kinda funny too
But we put it together and when we got thru
Well, that's when we noticed that we only had one tail-fin
About that time my wife walked out
And I could see in her eyes that she had her doubts
But she opened the door and said "Honey, take me for a spin."

So we drove up town just to get the tags
And I headed her right on down main drag
I could hear everybody laughin' for blocks around
But up there at the court house they didn't laugh
'Cause to type it up it took the whole staff
And when they got through the title weighed sixty pounds.

[CHORUS]
I got it one piece at a time
And it didn't cost me a dime
You'll know it's me when I come through your town
I'm gonna ride around in style
I'm gonna drive everybody wild
'Cause I'll have the only one there is around.

[Spoken] Ugh! Yow, RED RYDER
This is the COTTON MOUTH
In the PSYCHO-BILLY CADILLAC Come on

Huh, This is the COTTON MOUTH
And negatory on the cost of this mow-chine there RED RYDER
You might say I went right up to the factory
And picked it up, it's cheaper that way
Ugh!, what model is it?

It's a 59, 60, 61, 62, 63, 64 automobile,
It's a 65, 66, 67, 68, 69 automobile....

[tikay]

Well, how do you do, Private William McBride,
Do you mind if I sit down here by your graveside?
And rest for awhile in the warm summer sun,
I've been walking all day, and I'm nearly done.
And I see by your gravestone you were only 19
When you joined the glorious fallen in 1916,
Well, I hope you died quick and I hope you died clean
Or, Willie McBride, was it slow and obscene?

Did they Beat the drum slowly, did the play the pipes lowly?
Did the rifles fir o'er you as they lowered you down?
Did the bugles sound The Last Post in chorus?
Did the pipes play the Flowers of the Forest?

And did you leave a wife or a sweetheart behind
In some loyal heart is your memory enshrined?
And, though you died back in 1916,
To that loyal heart are you forever 19?
Or are you a stranger without even a name,
Forever enshrined behind some glass pane,
In an old photograph, torn and tattered and stained,
And fading to yellow in a brown leather frame?

The sun's shining down on these green fields of France;
The warm wind blows gently, and the red poppies dance.
The trenches have vanished long under the plow;
No gas and no barbed wire, no guns firing now.
But here in this graveyard that's still No Man's Land
The countless white crosses in mute witness stand
To man's blind indifference to his fellow man.
And a whole generation who were butchered and damned.

And I can't help but wonder, no Willie McBride,
Do all those who lie here know why they died?
Did you really believe them when they told you "The Cause?"
Did you really believe that this war would end wars?
Well the suffering, the sorrow, the glory, the shame
The killing, the dying, it was all done in vain,
For Willie McBride, it all happened again,
And again, and again, and again, and again.

Wow. I woulda learned History so much better if they'd taught us via song lyrics.

[tikay]

Talking of cash this is one of my favourites.





However I was amazed to find out that the writer of this song was Sting, i'll do you a favour and not post his rendition as it just feels so wrong.

I know it's so, but it's hard to believe Sting could have written that - it seems "so" Cash. Sting, FWIW, I loved in his Police days, but he's so bloody sanctimonious these days, flying back & forth across the Atlantic telling us he's saving the world for us.

[RED-DOG]

Talking of cash this is one of my favourites.





However I was amazed to find out that the writer of this song was Sting, i'll do you a favour and not post his rendition as it just feels so wrong.

I know it's so, but it's hard to believe Sting could have written that - it seems "so" Cash. Sting, FWIW, I loved in his Police days, but he's so bloody sanctimonious these days, flying back & forth across the Atlantic telling us he's saving the world for us.

I just hate the thought of all that tantric sex.

[Karabiner]

Sting was voted as the most banal lyricist of modern times in a poll recently.

[tikay]

To quote Cordes & Doherty (not Pete)

"Burnout is a psychological term for the experience of long-term exhaustion and diminished memory retention, usually in the work context. It is also used as an English slang term to mean exhaustion. Burnout is often construed as the result of a period of expending too much effort at work while having too little recovery"

In other word Mr Kendall -- please take a break and recharge -- you're worth it !!! your brain will thank you

I've thought more about this Mr Duke Sir, & especially your kind words.

But I've decided this "burnout" theory, this "exhaustion" idea, it's just modern-day wet society tosh & mumbo-jumbo. Hard work never did any harm. It's just sheer bloody forgetfullness - there's no point finding excuses for our failures. Everyone gets given excuses by the psycho-analysts these days. But mostly, it's just because we mess up.  If we addressed our failures, instead of hiding behind excuses, we'd be better off.

But I do appreciate your thoughts. I never knew you even read this Diary - I'm amazed at Diary snippets (Tom's too) that get back to me, all over the place from so many preople.

I've tried to keep a diary of little daily thoughts all my life, & always failed - but now I'm addicted. I have been addicted to so many things in my life. Work, (cured now), Horse Racing & Betting (cured now), snooker (cured, my eyes went), golf (cured, my legs went), poker (given time, I'll rid myself of it), TV work (the buzz will go eventually), sex (sell-by-date expired), laughing (hope I'm never cured of that), & motorway coffee - which musta have cost me a fortune, I'm totally addicted to that. And now, I can't stop writing. I'm sorry for all the drivel in it, but I'm sure, mixed up in between all the nonsense, there's a few interesting bits.

I want to write - just for myself - my life story. There's been a twist or turn or two, but it's not for public consumption. You'd not believe the bad stuff in there, for which I'm so embarrassed. You do that with age - look back & cringe.

[tikay]

Sting was voted as the most banal lyricist of modern times in a poll recently.

My vote too. Most banal person, more like.