Friday happy dance
February 15, 2019
3 Comments | 
circus of life | Tagged: dance, memory lane, Temptations | 
Permalink
Posted by bluebird of bitterness
Advertisements from long, long ago — M’m! M’m! Good! edition
February 11, 2019
15 Comments | simple pleasures | Tagged: memory lane, vintage ads | Permalink
Posted by bluebird of bitterness
Friday happy dance
February 8, 2019
9 Comments | circus of life | Tagged: dance, dogs, Eleanor Powell, memory lane | Permalink
Posted by bluebird of bitterness
Friday happy dance
February 1, 2019
5 Comments | circus of life | Tagged: dance, Frédéric Chopin, memory lane, Wiere Brothers | Permalink
Posted by bluebird of bitterness
Today’s cultural moment
January 28, 2019In honor of the 206th anniversary of the publication of Pride and Prejudice, here are a couple of magazine covers that will make no sense whatsoever to anyone who is not a fan of either the novel or the 1995 screen adaptation.
9 Comments | circus of life | Tagged: bibliophilia, Jane Austen, memory lane, Pride and Prejudice | Permalink
Posted by bluebird of bitterness
Friday happy dance
January 25, 2019
6 Comments | circus of life | Tagged: dance, Laurel and Hardy, memory lane, Scotland | Permalink
Posted by bluebird of bitterness
Happy birthday, Robbie
January 25, 2019It’s the birthday of Scotland’s most famous poet, Robert Burns (1759-1796). In his short life, Burns sired twelve offspring, some of them legitimate; and he wrote hundreds of poems and song lyrics, some of them suitable for polite company. When Scottish Television polled its viewers in 2009 on the question of who was the greatest Scot of all time, Robert Burns was the winner (William Wallace was the runner-up).
Scottish folk singer Jean Redpath (1937-2014) and American composer and ethnomusicologist Serge Hovey (1920-1989) teamed up in 1976 to record the complete songs of Robert Burns. Had they completed this rather ambitious project, it would have run to 22 volumes; but Hovey’s death in 1989 meant that only seven volumes were completed. This song appeared in Volume 3.
There’s nought but care on ev’ry hand,
In ev’ry hour that passes, O:
What signifies the life of man,
An ’twere not for the lasses, O.
Green grow the rushes, O;
Green grow the rushes, O;
The sweetest hours that e’er I spend
Are spent among the lasses, O.
The worldly race may riches chase,
And riches still may fly them, O;
And tho at last they catch them fast,
Their hearts can ne’er enjoy them, O.
Green grow the rushes, O;
Green grow the rushes, O;
The sweetest hours that e’er I spend
Are spent among the lasses, O.
Gie me a cannie hour at e’en,
My arms about my dearie, O;
And worldly cares, and worldly men,
May all gae tapsalteerie, O.
Green grow the rushes, O;
Green grow the rushes, O;
The sweetest hours that e’er I spend
Are spent among the lasses, O.
For you sae douce, ye sneer at this;
Ye’re nought but senseless asses, O:
The wisest man the world e’er saw,
He dearly loved the lasses, O.
Green grow the rushes, O;
Green grow the rushes, O;
The sweetest hours that e’er I spend
Are spent among the lasses, O.
Auld Nature swears, the lovely dears
Her noblest work she classes, O:
Her prentice hand she tried on man,
And then she made the lasses, O.
Green grow the rushes, O;
Green grow the rushes, O;
The sweetest hours that e’er I spend
Are spent among the lasses, O.
12 Comments | comfort & joy, musical offerings | Tagged: Jean Redpath, memory lane, Robert Burns, Scotland | Permalink
Posted by bluebird of bitterness
