So, if you have been a faithful reader of my blog, you will know that my headline used to read "K-k-k-Katy." Well, it has been brought to my attention that this may have some sort of connotation towards racial hatred...an attitude I most certainly do not possess. And, of course, leave it to me - a kind, gentle, good-hearted person who has much love for the african american community - to create some sort of ambiguity in this area. Well done, self.
So, I thought I would set the record straight and tell you all why I chose the headline that is no longer my headline (because I'm a people pleaser, gang).
When I was a wee lass, my grandpa used to sing with me all the time. I would stand behind him and comb his hair and we would accompany each other in choral merriment. Most of the songs he sang I had never heard before. Since I was a kid with lots of freckles, one of my favorites he sang went something like "She's got freckles on her but(t) she's pretty." Made me laugh every time.
But my absolute favoritest of favoritestesness was the song K-k-k-katy. It was from a very old World War II song booklet that he had lying around. I can't for the life of me think of why I loved that song so much. Oh wait. That's right. It was a song about MEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!! Sigh. I love myself.
So, here's the song. Proof that I'm just a supporter of vintage music as opposed to a follower of hate-filled racist organizations.
K-K-K-KATY
Jimmy was a soldier brave and bold,
Katy was a maid with hair of gold,
Like an act of fate,
Kate was standing at the gate,
Watching all the boys on dress parade.
Jimmy with the girls was just a gawk,
Stuttered ev'ry time he tried to talk,
Still that night at eight,
He was there at Katy's gate,
Stuttering to her this love sick cry.
K-K-K-Katy, beautiful Katy,
You're the only g-g-g-girl that I adore;
When the m-m-m-moon shines,
Over the cowshed,
I'll be waiting at the k-k-k-kitchen door.
K-K-K-Katy, beautiful Katy,
You're the only g-g-g-girl that I adore;
When the m-m-m-moon shines,
Over the cowshed,
I'll be waiting at the k-k-k-kitchen door.
No one ever looked so nice and neat,
No one could be just as cute and sweet,
That's what Jimmy thought,
When the wedding ring he bought,
Now he's off to France the foe to meet.
Jimmy thought he'd like to take a chance,
See if he could make the Kaiser dance,
Stepping to a tune,
All about the silv'ry moon,
This is what they hear in far off France.
K-K-K-Katy, beautiful Katy,
You're the only g-g-g-girl that I adore;
When the m-m-m-moon shines,
Over the cowshed,
I'll be waiting at the k-k-k-kitchen door.
K-K-K-Katy, beautiful Katy,
You're the only g-g-g-girl that I adore;
When the m-m-m-moon shines,
Over the cowshed,
I'll be waiting at the k-k-k-kitchen door.
Monday, April 28, 2008
Friday, April 25, 2008
Well, Thank Goodness
Friends! Countrymen! Lend me your ears!
Know how the turnpike is like uber ridiculous? Remember how it was supposed to only be set up to receive a toll for like 2 years and then it would be paid off and people - the normal, working-class, proletariat- would be able to drive on it for free? And I'm sure you're aware that it's been about 80 years now and it still costs a WHOLE DOLLAR to go roughly 100 yards from Broadway Extension to Western?
I think the reason we all have been so frustrated with the pricey toll fare is because we haven't seen any sort of product from this monetary compensation. For example, if we are giving them all this money, shouldn't there be performers on the side of the road with cupcakes and free car washes? Shouldn't every other mile of road be paved with candy canes? Shouldn't renowned motivational speakers be flagging us down to hop in our cars and give us the meaning of life?
Well, fret no more. I've found where all our money is going. And I think you will be pleased. If you are ever traveling Westbound (and Eastbound, actually, as I've come to observe) on the turnpike from Broadway Extension to, say, N. Penn, look to the right just after you go through the toll. But look quickly. There's about a four foot by four foot garden that has been planted in the space where travelers merge as if we are being handed a lollipop after a sharp blow to the back of the head. WHACK! Oh! A flower!
These 9 billion dollar gardens are, of course, maintained and groomed by the little turnpike oompa loompas, so don't forget that some of our money is going to them. For example, about a week after I noticed the garden on the North side of the highway, I was driving by and happened to notice a crew of about 48 men in orange vests planting an identical four foot by four foot garden on the South side of the highway. Bless their hearts, I'm sure it was a very long and arduous process. I can easily understand why it is costing us so much to keep them out there making our travel experience pleasurable.
I hope knowing all of this is a relief to those of you who travel the turnpike, the blessed stretch of road that is forever marked with exclusivity due to the shiny oasis of deciduous life growing from it's expensive loins.
Know how the turnpike is like uber ridiculous? Remember how it was supposed to only be set up to receive a toll for like 2 years and then it would be paid off and people - the normal, working-class, proletariat- would be able to drive on it for free? And I'm sure you're aware that it's been about 80 years now and it still costs a WHOLE DOLLAR to go roughly 100 yards from Broadway Extension to Western?
I think the reason we all have been so frustrated with the pricey toll fare is because we haven't seen any sort of product from this monetary compensation. For example, if we are giving them all this money, shouldn't there be performers on the side of the road with cupcakes and free car washes? Shouldn't every other mile of road be paved with candy canes? Shouldn't renowned motivational speakers be flagging us down to hop in our cars and give us the meaning of life?
Well, fret no more. I've found where all our money is going. And I think you will be pleased. If you are ever traveling Westbound (and Eastbound, actually, as I've come to observe) on the turnpike from Broadway Extension to, say, N. Penn, look to the right just after you go through the toll. But look quickly. There's about a four foot by four foot garden that has been planted in the space where travelers merge as if we are being handed a lollipop after a sharp blow to the back of the head. WHACK! Oh! A flower!
These 9 billion dollar gardens are, of course, maintained and groomed by the little turnpike oompa loompas, so don't forget that some of our money is going to them. For example, about a week after I noticed the garden on the North side of the highway, I was driving by and happened to notice a crew of about 48 men in orange vests planting an identical four foot by four foot garden on the South side of the highway. Bless their hearts, I'm sure it was a very long and arduous process. I can easily understand why it is costing us so much to keep them out there making our travel experience pleasurable.
I hope knowing all of this is a relief to those of you who travel the turnpike, the blessed stretch of road that is forever marked with exclusivity due to the shiny oasis of deciduous life growing from it's expensive loins.
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