"Watch Out World!"

I imagine people of other ages – what else can I do but imagine I am only one age – listening on their headphones to motivating music, fueling their secret dreams and desires.

Or maybe they are listening to stock prices.   Who knows?  (And who knows they’re not their secret dreams and desires?)

For me – yesterday’s post reminding me of the power of musicals – it was “Old School” record player and vinyl.  Which you could not practically carry around on the street – people would trip over the cord.  You had to “gas up” at home, before going out where people thought you were nothing.  (The most thundering sound I ever imagined was Canadian television producers seeing my name on The Mary Tyler Moore Show, going “Him?”)

Lacking external support – or detectable internal support, for that matter – I turned to the stirring songs in musicals, where characters, currently down but not out, got up, “held” for the cue from the conductor, and told the world they’re not done.

It’s all corny.

It all helped.

Helped what?  I don’t know. I just remember that look of despair when I was teaching in England and another teacher said, “Don’t worry, it probably won’t happen” and I said, “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

I needed that out of my head.

And got the inspirational “antidote” with:

“Stand well back, I’m comin’ through

Nothin’ can stop me now…”

(”The Roar of the Greasepaint – The Smell of the Crowd”)

“There’s got to be something better than this

There’s got to be something better to do

And when I find me something better to do

I’m gonna get up, I’m gonna get out,

I’m gonna get up, get out and do it!”

(“Sweet Charity”)

“I’m the greatest star, I am by far

But no one knows it…”

(That one’s embarrassing.  “Funny Girl.”)

“I’d like to swim in a clear blue stream, where the water is icy cold.

Then go to town in a golden gown, and have my fortune told.”

(Girly, but hopeful.  “The Fantasticks.”)

Okay, what else?  Oh, yeah.  Sammy!

“I ain’t bowin’ down no-o more

I ain’t bowin down no-o mo-ore.

Now I’m standin’ up, I ain’t on the floor

I ain’t bowin’ down no-o mo-ore.”

(“Golden Boy”)

And if Sammy, why not Steve Lawrence.

“I’m no loser!

That’s a dirty word to me

I’m no loser!

And I’m never gonna be…”

(“What Makes Sammy Run?”)

Okay, three more, among others I’m forgetting.  I mean, I had a medley! 

How’s this for “uplift”?

“I’ve got to find a reason

For living on this earth

Something to want

Something to be

Somehow to say

I am me.”

(“Carnival”)

And, of course,

“This is my Quest, to follow that star,

No matter how hopeless

No matter how far,

To fight for the right

Without question or pause

To be willing to march into hell

For a heavenly cause!”

(That one rattled the rafters.  “Man of La Mancha”)

And maybe the sappiest of all, but it still works,

“Walk on through the wind, walk on through the rain

Though your dreams be tossed and blown

Walk on

Walk on

With hope in your heart

And you’ll never walk alone

You’ll never walk alone.”

(“Carousel”)

Y’know, just remembering that jostled the pheromones.  Which, more than perhaps, was probably the point.  I’ve been battling a “bug” lately, which, like a bad houseguest, refuses to leave. 

Maybe musicals can help!

Any song – from any genre – help you rise and prevail?  Let me know.  Maybe I’ll add it to my repertoire.

"A Reader Responds"

Not long ago, I wrote about lowing cattle.  And wouldn’t you know it?  A reader from a herd wrote back.  Not any reader, mind you; he is a herd-member reader who worked frequently in westerns, appearing prominently in stampedes.  He’s the one going, “I hate this!”  But being a cow, it just came out “Moo!”

The following, in English, is a translation of his remarks:

“First thing you need to know is that, by nature, cattle do not like to stampede.  We don’t even like walking that much.   

“Mostly, we like to low and eat grass.  What does ‘low’ mean?  I’m not sure, except that it involves minimal movement, beyond occasionally raising our heads, and shooing away flies with our tails. 

“It’s not that we’re lazy.  We are simply content.  ‘Lazy’ is, ‘Oh, grass.  I should bend down and eat that.’  And we don’t.

“Now, about stampedes.  The script says, ‘The herd is bedded down for the night.’  That we like.  It’s quiet.  It’s cool.  We get a break from walking to the ‘railhead.’  I don’t know what the ‘railhead’ is.  No cow ever came back to tell us.

“The script says, ’The cattle are driven.’   The Rawhide theme song says, ‘Through wind and rain and weather…’  It was terrible! 

“’Cows hate being ‘driven.’  Even on nice days!
  

“Of course, they made it up to us.  When they bedded us down for the night, they’d helpfully sing us to sleep.  Did you ‘get’ that was sarcastic when I said that?  It’s hard to tell.  We have expressionless faces.  ‘Big brown eyes.’  But they look sad when we’re remembering a joke!

“Let me ask you something.  Where did they hear a herd of overworked cattle appreciate singing?  ‘Night sounds’ put us to sleep.  Singing?  That’s so the cowboys don’t fall asleep.

“Okay, so we are just about to drop off.  Suddenly, the script says, ‘Reaching for a lick of sugar, he accidentally rattles the pots. The herd immediately “spooks”, and they begin to stampede.’

“That would never… happen.  Someone rattles some pots, we’d go ‘Pots’, and that’s it. 

“I am saying from experience:

“No one ever stampeded from ‘Pots.’

“You hear gunshots, you run, because, you know… you remember the buffalo.  They didn’t run – now there’s eleven of them left.   But believe me, after a long day on the trail,

“No one’s running from ‘Pots.’

“First time, we were invited to the premiere, which was nice.  They almost never invite horses.  Sure, the ‘Names’, but no one from posses. 

“The thing is, as soon as the ‘Pots’ scene came on, the area allocated to ‘cattle’, we start rolling our big brown eyes, and loudly ‘Mooing’ our objections.  They had to turn on the lights, and someone made a big speech.  

“The scene’s back on the screen – we immediately react.

“We’re not idiots!  It’s ‘Pots!’

“Needless to say, they never invited us back.  Which was fine.  After the show, they served ‘barbecue.’

“I mean, what were they thinking!”     

We appreciate the comment, and encourage readers, bovine and otherwise, to feel free to join in.

"I Liked It. So What?"

"A Luminous Line In A Not So Great Movie"

I just heard it, and went,

“Oh!”

That doesn’t happen that much in movies, so I shall briefly tell you about it.

The Undefeated (1969), starring John Wayne, is a hardly distinctive (mostly) post-Civil War western, starring John Wayne and Rock Hudson.  (There is a little Civil War in it at the beginning.)

Here’s the setup to that memorable – for me – snippet of shimmering dialogue.

After John Wayne-led Northerners defeat opposing Southern forces in a brutal encounter, Wayne is informed by messenger that the war had actually ended three days earlier, with Lee’s surrender to Grant at Appomattox.

Apprized after the battle of Lee’s earlier surrender – making that recent carnage unnecessary – Wayne’s vanquished Confederate counterpart replies a penetrating “Yes, sir.”  When Wayne’s suspicions that his Confederate counterpart was fully aware that the war was over, he curiously inquires,

“Then why did you fight?”

To which the leader of the defeated Southerners replies,

“This is our land, sir.  And you’re on it.”

(Historical Note:  With the exception of Gettysburg, major Civil War battles were fought in the South.)

There are many ways of discussing the pervading elements of the Civil War.

But I have never heard that way expressed so simply and so genuinely.

“This is our land, sir.  And you’re on it.”

You don’t have to agree with it.

But there it was.

In a not-so-great movie.

"Baseball And Life"

The World Series…

American League juggernaut Houston Astros (107-55 regular season record) versus the National League’s Washington Nationals (93-69, starting the season a teetering 19-31.)

Looks to me like an Astros “Sweep.”  (Astros winning four-games-to-nothing, in a “Best of Seven” game series.)

Okay.

First two games, played on the Astros home field –

Washington wins both games.

Head-scratching, but interesting. 

Next three games, played on the Nationals’ home field –  

Astros win all three.

Now that’s better.  Astros lead three-games-to-two, heading to Houston for “Game Six.”  And “Game Seven.”  If necessary. 

Washington wins “Game Six.” 

Series tied three-games-to-three.

Okay, “Game Seven.”  Here we go.

Astros take a 2-0 lead into the seventh inning, and there you have it.

Baseball and Life:

A winding road to an inevitable ending.

Except…

Washington scores three runs in the seventh, one in the eight, and two in the ninth.

Washington wins “Game Seven” and the Series.

Hm.  I guess baseball isn’t like Life.

Only one of them has an inevitable ending.

And it certainly ain’t baseball.

Congrats to the Nats!

I was rootin’ for you all the way.

(Note:  I actually was.  I am a life-long “Underdogs” guy.  Which I temporarily forgot,  but remembered, right after the first pitch.)