linda ronstadt

Still gorgeous after all these years.

“Someone once asked me why people sing. I answered that they sing for many of the same reasons the birds sing. They sing for a mate, to claim their territory, or simply to give voice to the delight of being alive in the midst of a beautiful day. Perhaps more than the birds do, humans hold a grudge. They sing to complain of how grievously they have been wronged, and how to avoid it in the future. They sing to help themselves execute a job of work. They sing so the subsequent generations won’t forget what the current generation endured, or dreamed, or delighted in.”

Linda Ronstadt     Simple Dreams: A Musical Memoir  

Posted for Cin’s Feb Challenge  on Witchy Rambles

Just Jazzy 157

“She decided to free herself, dance into the wind, create a new language. And birds fluttered around her, writing “yes” in the sky.”  (Monique Duval)

These little musicians teach us that if we can weather the storm, we can sing again in the sunshine.

These little musicians teach us that if we can weather the storm, we will soon be singing again in the sunshine.

I’d Like To Teach The World To Sing

English: European Turtle Dove (Streptopelia tu...

English: European Turtle Dove (Streptopelia turtur). Shot taken in Israel עברית: תור מצוי, ישראל (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Daily Prompt: I Got Skills

If you could choose to be a master (or mistress) of any skill in the world, which skill would you pick?

I´d like to build the world a home
And furnish it with love, grow apple trees
And honey bees and snow white turtle doves.
I’d like to teach the world to sing in perfect harmony.
I’d like to hold it in my arms and keep it company.

It’s the real thing what the world wants today.
That’s the way it will stay with the real thing.
It’s the real thing, won’t you hear what I say?
What the world needs today is the real thing.

I’d like to see the world for once
All standing hand in hand — standing hand in hand.
And hear that echo through the hills
For peace through all the land – it´s the real thing.

I’d like to teach the world to sing in perfect harmony – perfect harmony.
I saw on the peace that echo goes on and never goes away.

It’s the real thing what the world wants today.
That’s the way it will stay with the real thing.
It’s the real thing, won’t you hear what I say?
What the world needs today is the real thing.

It’s the real thing what the world wants today
That’s the way it will stay with the real thing…

I'd like to teach the world to sing

I’d like to teach the world to sing (Photo credit: fatskier)

Complete This Thought

copy paste

copy paste (Photo credit: razorfrog)

Start the sentence with I, add one of these words or phrases, and dig deep to finish the thought:…, want, have, wish, hate, fear, hear, search, wonder, regret, love, ache, always, usually, am not, dance, sing, never, rarely, cry, am not always, lose, am confused, need, should, dream…

Feel free to cut and paste and complete it any way you want.  I was going to do a sentence for each of them, but this is what happened instead.  Some muse or other took over and a kind of poetry happened.

What Am I?

I am old

But I want to stay young forever.

I have everything I need and yet

I wish for more.

I hate nothing but hate itself

And fear what it can do.

I hear only what I want to hear

And tune out all the rest.

I search inside for peace

And wonder if this is what it feels like.

Regretting nothing, loving fiercely,

Aching for time to slow down

While I’m running out of it.

Usually life makes me happy.

I am not complaining.

Even though I dance awkwardly

And sing off-key.

I never can stay sad for long

And rarely cry about anything

But I am not always brave.

I lose focus and become confused.

I need the quiet to bring things back

So I should appreciate it when it’s all around me.

Sometimes I dream so hard I can’t wake up.

In the Spotlight

Yes, I’ve been “on stage”. Don’t remember a spotlight though. What I do remember is being seven years old, in grade two with my best friend, and having a teacher with a flair for the dramatic.

“Once there lived side by side, two little maids,

Used to dress just alike, hair down in braids,

Blue gingham pinafores, stockings of red,

Little sun bonnets tied on each pretty head.”

We didn’t even have to audition for the parts. We were chosen. I think perhaps the cute factor had a lot more to do with it than any kind of talent. Picture the two of us at our school Christmas concert; braided hair, fussy little ruffled checkered aprons, red tights, sun bonnets made from bristol board and crepe paper. Shockingly gorgeous. Trotting out onto the stage arm in arm. Reciting the little poem in unison (there’s much more to it, but I’ll spare you that). Then we have to pretend to have a fight, and go stomping off to stage right and left respectively where we glare at each other, which makes us giggle. ( I improvised at rehearsal sticking out my tongue, but that part got cut.) Finally we sing this little refrain back and forth to each other, all snotty, hands on hips.

“I don’t want to play in your yard,

I don’t like you anymore,

You’ll be sorry when you see me,

Sliding down our cellar door,

You can’t holler down our rain barrel,

You can’t climb our apple tree,

I don’t want to play in your yard,

If you can’t be good to me.”

You HAVE to hear it to truly appreciate how adorable it must have been. There are several renditions on YouTube, all cloyingly sweet and gag-worthy.

Unfortunately no video exists for this particular performance, and not even one photograph. Nothing I’ve done on a stage since then has even come close. If we all get one shot at stardom, I guess that was mine.

Powered by Plinky

Hurdy Gurdy

(with appologies to Donovan and George Harrison)

I am the Hurdy Gurdy Man, singing songs of love.

I know man, I’m your biggest fan.


Yeah, ever since that day when I was down by the sea, gazing with tranquility, and your music came washing over me. I’ll never forget it.

Ah. Perhaps you were just one small voice in the crying of humanity.

Hey, I don’t cry man! Come on. I was just sitting there in the unenlightened shadows, and then you came along and blew them clear out of the water.

Yes. I suppose I did. Histories of ages past, down through all eternity – colossal bore, all that. Could do with some serious blowing away.

Yep. The truth was buried deep, beneath a thousand years of sleep. Your songs are gonna save us all.

A turn around is certainly overdue. Would you like to join me, singing songs of love? At least until the truth is found?

Oh man! I would follow you anywhere! I’ll even learn how to sing! This is the best day of my life!

I like you. I think I’ll call you Roly Poly Man. You can be my songs of love and transcendental consciousness awakening side kick.

Hurdy gurdy, hurdy gurdy, hurdy gurdy, gurdy…..

Hmmm. Roly poly, roly poly, roly poly, poly… I think we’re on to something.

Hurdy Gurdy man, you are THE MAN!

And together we are ON A MISSION! Rock on Roly. Let’s get down.

Powered by Plinky

98 Things…

April 21

98 Things A Woman Should Do In Her Lifetime

Today at Chapters I picked up this little book by Rebekah Shardy.  I had two very good reasons for doing so.  I have to go through Chapters when I leave the mall after getting my hair done, and I cannot possibly go through Chapters without buying something.  Okay, three reasons.  There’s just something irresistable about a little four-inch square book.

Some of these 98 things I have already accomplished:

– go a month without shaving your legs  (only a month? hahaha….I am SO past that it isn’t even funny)

– invent a punch that will raise eyebrows and lower inhibitions (come to my house for Christmas.  You will not leave sober.)

– serve something flambe (YES!  I really did do that once!  No buildings burned down!)

– sing to a child.  (Even though it’s not ALWAYS appreciated.) (Rockabye Baby used to make my daughter sob…..”Don’t song mommy!”)

– tell Richard Simmons to just shut up and sit down ( not face to face but via the t.v., which is the next best thing)

These are the ones I really think would be worth trying:

– paint a mural of your imagined past lives (it would have to be a damned big piece of paper)

– teach someone, besides a child, to read

– be someone’s fairy godmother.  Wand optional.

– write an unauthorized biography of your family, including embarrassing photos, a tribute to the infamous black sheep, and favourite recipes.  (Except for the recipes, I could do that!)

– burn a cd with music you want played at your funeral:  baffle generations to come by including the rap song “I Like Big Butts”. (Sadly, I fear no one in my family would find that strange.)

– cry in the rain (If you have to cry, that would be the perfect place for it.)

– remember life is too short for ironing, non fat dairy creamer and regret of any kind.

– don’t indulge in one judgemental thought for an entire day.  Okay, an hour.  (Sigh)

– write three haiku poems about your most amazing, horrible and baffling sexual experiences and frame them for your boudoir.  (OMG.  If I can just keep the hysterical laughter under control for a sufficient length of time I’m sure there are great rewards to be reaped from such an endeavor.)

There is no way in hell I’d ever attempt any of these:

–  stay in a convent for a week.  (What in the world for?  Would it be a test for me, or for them?)

– ride a motorcycle alone across the Nevada desert.  (WHY?  No good could possibly come of it.  Unless someone is trying to kill me.)

– learn to belly dance and integrate it into your lovemaking.  (Okay, this lady does not know my husband.  He already thinks I’m crazy – why add to his arsenal of proof?)

– design a picnic around aphrodisiacs – raw oysters, champagne, rose petal jam on chocolate fingers – then whisper in another’s ear the sensual images that passing clouds suggest.  (See the belly dancing comment above.  He would have me committed.)

And finally, these are all do-able and sound like harmless fun!

Explore your inner pagan by creating your own seasonal rituals:

– at the spring equinox, detox with a juice fast, sauna, and deep muscle massage

– at the summer solstice, hire a manicurist to give pedicures to you and four friends while your pampered klatch sips mint juleps

– at the fall equinox, organize a black clad beatnik poetry reading with the themes of rain, dissolution, and romance

– at the winter solstice, plant a circle of globed candles in a snowdrift and make wishes every night until they burn out

What a great little book!  It also suggests you write an autobiography about the life you didn’t choose.  Gah.  I’m having trouble writing about the one I did choose, complete with my own 98 things I felt were important enough to do in my lifetime.  It’s just fun to see things from a new perspective.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going out to buy some castanets, and then I’m going to practice telepathy with my cat.