Dogs

I was Unca Dan at 17 at the house of college girls on the south side of Bloomington. There was a miniature Schnauzer living there too, but I don't remember it as fondly as I did this thing. I can't recall the dog's name now, but it belonged to one of Marti's roommates. I was Unca because the dog was my nephew. It like rubbing behind the ears and popcorn and pretzels. We never let it drink, but it might have enjoyed that as well. I wouldn't be surprised if it died of lung cancer. We smoked like chimneys then -all the girls and I and my buddy Jim that came over to hang out. We played chess for hours and smoked and drank homemade wine.  

Transitions in animals

So, the little Lassie dog gave birth to a bunch of these, and after a huge infestation of fleas and us putting Flea-bite down for mange I think, the mother was given away with all of her puppies but one, which we christened Bowser. I was reminded that Lassie did indeed survive us at least. Bowser grew into a large dog that could easily jump our fence and often did. Tabby was the only one that could teach Bowser anything. He left the cat alone after a few painful encounters. He would instead bound over the fence and go collect welcome mats from other porches or go wandering off across the neighborhood in search of big adventures- or maybe he was looking for his father. We all tend to do that. My Mom was a stay at home Mom then, so she was the one that had to go after him and bring him back. She knew nothing about training dogs.

In the midst of a very heavy Indiana snowstorm Bowser went forth and my Mom went after him. Bowser, in his excitement let the leash be put on and then bounded off pulling old Mom down in the snow several times. When she finally did get him in the car, she took him to the pound and brought back another dog.

 

We were shocked. We swore we would never ever do this to our children. Josie, above, was actually a very sweet dog and guarded us kids as if we were her own. Bowser hopefully made it to some farm, or at least to someone who knew how to train dogs.  

Animals

Tabby was a cool cat. He ate birds. He'd come back after being gone a night with huge cuts and wounds from fighting with the other cats in the neighborhood. He'd lay on my back as I lay on the floor to watch television. He would eat popcorn. Then one day he didn't come back.

Animals I have known #1

We had an old dog when I was little. His name was Flea-Bite. They must have gotten him for my oldest brother and by the time I was conscious enough to understand the concept of dog, he was already old. He didn't bark that I can remember and he didn't play much. He was just a mellow old dog. We had a big wooden dog house in the back yard, but he seldom used it. He came and went inside and out like the rest of us. He did like the cat. We had a gray and black tabby cat named appropriately "Tabby" that used to stretch out across the dog's back. Later, after Flea-Bite was no longer with us, the cat would stretch out on my back as I lay on the floor to watch TV. We adopted a stray little lassie looking dog that immediately got pregnant from a German Shepherd that came from somewhere to bound over our fence to get to her. I recall the bounding part. She had six German Shepherd puppies and our basement got a major infestation of fleas. And or mange or god knows what. Lassie (we were highly creative with names) and Flea-Bite didn't survive and all the puppies were given away but one.
Its important to have a grandpa dog around. If for no other reason than to rest your head on while you read comic books.    

One of these days soon

Pretty soon, one won't be home any more, except for trips to visit. We knew it would come, but I'm already sad before its happened

Sherlock The Music Historian

On of my band mates brought us a song that he thought was a Civil War ballad, and we all loved the song and he sang it really well, and it was easy to play, so we rehearsed it and did in our mini-gig at Boulevard Music last Sunday night. The second fiddle player who is not on the video posted to this blog was in the audience (she didn't end up playing with us because she hadn't rehearsed with us and was nervous about playing songs she hadn't practiced). She noticed that the song was inaccurate. That Sherman never marched from Memphis to the sea. It was from Atlanta to the sea and he never made it to Tennessee at all. I jokingly said it was probably written by a couple of New York boys who had never been outside the city. There is a little town between Atlanta and Savannah named Nashville. Perhaps the songwriter walked through there and got mixed up about what state he was in. So I decided to investigate: (Isn't the internet a wonderful place?)

Geld-Udell Music Corporation in 1959, and Geld-Udell Productions in 1962

http://www.imdb.com/name/nm1122364/bio

They did some of the music in Shenandoah the Jimmy Stewart Movie and later did a Tony award Musical on Broadway by the same name, but this song isn't in the musical version. It may be in the movie, but you'll have to rent to movie to see. (If it's in a Jimmy Stewart movie, it has to be authentic.) You can't get a movie version of the soundtrack- just the musical version. They were Hyland's producers so they probably just handed him the song. They really were New York City boys who probably had no idea where Tennessee was,

I'M AFRAID TO GO HOME
(Gary Geld / Peter Udell)
Recorded by: Brian Hyland - 1964
Cliff Richard - 1964
Gene Pitney - 1966
I'm afraid to go home
I'm afraid to go home
Worries on my mind
Afraid of what I'll findWill my fam'ly be gone
I'm afraid to go home
Back to Tennessee
Afraid of what I'll seeAs I walk down this dusty road
Got a heart with a heavy load
Ain't a thing that's the same
So much sorrow and pain
Headin' home in a single file
Ev'ry inch is a quarter mile
Ain't heard nobody sing
Ain't seen one livin' thing
Someone's waitin' for me
Honey sweet as can be
Wanta hold her tight


Lord, make her be alright


Maybe 'round the next bend
All the ashes will end
Valleys will be green
Stead of what I'm seein'


I'm afraid for the scrubby pines
All the sweet honeysuckle vines
I'm afraid for my home
For the fields that I roamed


Kick along down a homeward road
And your heart's gotta take a load
I'm afraid to go home
I'm afraid to go home


Sherman's been in my town
Burned it all to the ground
Now there's not a tree
'Tween Memphis and the sea
Now there's not a tree
'Tween Memphis and the sea


There is a Oconee Forest east of Atlanta. You could throw that up there instead of Tennesse and just change 
Memphis at the end to Atlanta and you're fine.


The stuff the leaks into our childhood brains from the media really does make the context into historical reality. If 
its in a movie it must be real. Like all those westerns that were shot out where there wasn't enough water to have a cattle ranch or a town or any industry to speak of. Or the authentic folk songs of the like of the Kingston Trio who rewrote almost everything they sang and recorded. 


Brian Hyland brought us Itsy Bitsy Yellow Bikini.

Something to Cheer Us All Up

May We All Be So Generous