♫ Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer ♫

Some years I find myself singing Christmas songs … rarely carols with a religious tone, but songs about Christmas.  This year, I have not once that I can recall, but this has been a difficult year.  But, it is Christmas Eve and I thought to share a personal story of a Christmas … oh, some 23 years ago.

Natasha circa 18 mos 2

Baby Goose

My granddaughter Natasha, aka Miss Goose, was just over a year old, having been born on 28 November 1994.  I worked long hours and missed most of her waking time, so when I was home, I made the most of the time I had to bond with her.  She loved music and loved animation, so I searched for things on the computer that might attract her attention.  That Christmas season she fell in love with a Christmas-themed song … of all things … Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer.  At only 13 months old, she hadn’t yet the art of verbal communication as we know it, but every time that song played, she started bouncing, clapping, and giggling uncontrollably!  I swear she understood those lyrics!

Granted, this is an utterly dorky song, and has been referred to as “the song that only gets worse with age”, but as the song has fond memories for me, and has a humorous bent, I share it with you on this Christmas Eve, some 23 years later.  And I thank Miss Goose for, despite loving a song about the demise of Grandma, being the light of my life for all these years.

There are two versions to this song … well, actually several … but I offer both the cartoon version and the … um … drunken grandma version …

Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer
Elmo & Patsy

Grandma got run over by a reindeer
Walking home from our house Christmas eve
You can say there’s no such thing as Santa
But as for me and grandpa we believe
She’d been drinking too much eggnog
And we begged her not to go
But she forgot her medication
And she staggered out the door into the snow
When we found her Christmas morning
At the scene of the attack
She had hoof-prints on her forehead
And incriminating Claus marks on her back

Grandma got run over by a reindeer
Walking home from our house Christmas eve
You can say there’s no such thing as Santa
But as for me and grandpa we believe

Now we’re all so proud of grandpa
He’s been taking this so well
See him in there watching football
Drinking beer and playing cards with cousin Mel
It’s not Christmas without Grandma
All the family’s dressed in black
And we just can’t help but wonder
Should we open up her gifts
Or send them back (send them back)

Grandma got run over by a reindeer
Walking home from our house Christmas eve
You can say there’s no such thing as Santa
But as for me and grandpa we believe

Now the goose is on the table
And the pudding made of fig
And the blue and silver candles
That would just have matched the hair on grandma’s wig
I’ve warned all my friends and neighbors
Better watch out for yourselves
They should never give a license
To a man who drives a sleigh
And plays with elves

Grandma got run over by a reindeer
Walking home from our house Christmas eve
You can say there’s no such thing as Santa
But as for me and grandpa we believe

Singin’ grandpa
Grandma got run over by a reindeer
Walking home from our house Christmas eve
You can say there’s no such thing as Santa
But as for me and grandpa we believe
Merry Christmas

Songwriters: Randy Brooks
Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer lyrics © BMG Rights Management

A Knock …

wakingI awakened this morning, a bit confused as usual, and wondering if the pounding on the door downstairs was part of a dream or if some fool was actually beating on my door at … 8:39 a.m.?  It took less than five seconds before my question was answered … it was really some fool who didn’t know I had slept only a scant two hours at that point.  Mental checklist:

  • Am I decent? Sweatpants, sweatshirt, socks … oops, only one sock, but still good enough.
  • Glasses?  Check.
  • Who could it be? UPS?  Nah, our regular UPS driver is John, who used to have a crush on my daughter … he’s a cool guy and knows better than to bang on my door.  The mail carrier?  Nah, that’s my friend Lisa and she knows better than to bang on my door.  That leaves FedEx, who never send the same driver twice, so I haven’t come to know them.

You’re probably wondering why I don’t take the 5 steps to my bedroom window and look out, solving the mystery once and for all, right?  But that is not how my mind works.  I am an analyst, and thus I have to analyze everything first, then look out the window to verify the conclusion I drew as a result of my analysis. FedExOnly thing was, they banged on the door again before I got to the window and damn near stopped my heart, so instead of peeking through the blinds to see the FedEx truck in front of the house, I ran to the bedroom door, flung it open and called out at the top of my lungs, “I’m coming, you moron!!!”

And then I trotted down the 15 stairs (I know there are 15 because I count them every single time I ascend or descend them.  Been doing it for more than 20 years now. What?  No, I’m not OCD … I just need to make sure nobody snuck an extra in on me!) and peeped through the peekie hole in the center of the door.  Only, all I saw was the evergreen branches from our Christmas wreath.  Sigh.

Unlocking the door and opening it, fully expecting a smiling FedEx driver on the other side holding anywhere from one to thirteen packages (remember I did all my Christmas shopping online last week), you might imagine my surprise … nay, utter shock … to see a local yokel (our affectionate name for the country sheriffs and deputies) accompanied by two men in dark suits and dark glasses.

heart stopsHeart stops … begins re-boot process during which time all I can do is stare and say … huhhhhhhh?

I’ve been telling a few friends for a while now that this was inevitable, but … thing is … I was joking!!!  I never really believed that me, a nobody, would come under scrutiny of … gulp … the Men In Black!  As I had been trotting down the 15 stairs just seconds earlier, it had briefly occurred to me to run into the kitchen right quick and grab my solid wooden 18-inch long rolling pin, but so convinced was I that it was only the FedEx driver … oh, how I wished I had listened to that little voice!

The bells in my head were subsiding, my hearing, what little is left of it, began to return, and ‘coherent’ thought began to return.  I could see that the shorter of the two men in black was saying something … either that, or convulsing, for his lips were moving.

“Ma’am … is your name Jill Dennison?”

“Um … could you repeat the question?  I just got up, you see … heh heh … late night.”  (Oh how f***ing brilliant!!!)

“What is your name, ma’am?”

“Um … Grannie”

And at this point, the deputy standing slightly in front of and to the right of the men in black, rested his hand on his gun and said …

“What is your name?  Are you Jill Dennison?”

“Yes, and you are … ?”

“I’ll ask the questions here.  Do you live here alone?”

By this time, I was getting my bearings and had decided I wasn’t taking any guff from the local yokel, for I knew him from another encounter many years ago.  So, I turned to the first man in black and … he had disappeared!  The second, the taller of the two, was standing next to his empty spot.  Grinning.

“May I see some I.D.?”

He seemed taken a bit aback, and just then I noticed his partner coming around the back of their car carrying … a cage!  No way were they putting me in that!  Heck no!  It was only about 18-inches by 24-inches at most … I am 5-foot 6-inches and weigh 140.  They ain’t squishing me into that!!!

“Ms. Dennison … is this your cat?”

And inside was Princess Nala who, it turned out, had escaped when Chris left for work earlier that morning, was found by a neighbor who called the Humane Society.

“I just have one last question”, I said, once the confusion was all straightened out and we all had a slightly strained chuckle over it.  “Why are you wearing dark glasses?”

“The glare of the sun, ma’am.”

What you have just read is fiction, just a figment that came to me earlier this evening, hopefully humour, although it wouldn’t surprise me some day to awaken to find ‘Men in Black’ on my front stoop, given my well-documented aversion to Trump.  Frankly, I think I’m not quite important enough to set off any alarm bells, but you never know.  And for the record, Princess Nala is safe and sound, lying atop her pizza boxes in the kitchen!  And please forgive my brief detour from my norm … I promise to get serious after a few hours’ sleep.  Assuming, that is, that I don’t awaken to a pounding on the door!nala-pizza-boxes.jpg

Stuff From A Bouncing Mind …

Today I have a bouncy mind … too much inundation of both news and holidays, I think.  Have to bake birthday cookies, do birthday cards, get a package ready to mail overseas, Trump did a convoluted interview yesterday that I’m struggling to get through without throwing something, and a new federal judge is about to be confirmed who supports extreme voter suppression.  No wonder my mind is bouncing!  So, I share with you a few of the thoughts that have crept out from the crevices during the bounce …

FacebookYesterday morning when I logged onto Facebook for the first time of the day, planning to check messages and post my latest blog post, I was immediately assailed by a large message from Facebook itself, asking me to donate money to one of several charitable causes, and promising to match my donation.  HAH!!!  Mind you, though I haven’t much to give, I do give … I give to St. Jude’s Children’s Research Hospital, the Humane Society, the local foodbank.  I give to a variety of local homeless shelters.  So, it isn’t that I’m not willing to help out … it is, simply put, that I do not have any reason to trust Facebook!

Entrust my bank account number to Facebook after their recent data breach that exposed the personal data of millions of users???  And … trust them to actually match my donation?  I think not.  This is a case of “Let the buyer beware”.  I will continue to carefully choose my own causes, thank you very much anyway, Mr. Mark Zuckerberg!

packagingAnd speaking of letting the buyer beware, I am once again grumbling loudly over one of my old pet peeves.  Note to all readers:  If the package says “Easy open – pull here” … get your scissors and sharpest knives out, be prepared to spend a minimum of ten minutes fighting to get to the product inside the package, and while you’re at it … be sure your first-aid kit is handy!  I’ve been putting it down to my being old, my hands and fingers not being as agile or strong as they once were, but even the youngster in this house has trouble opening things these days.  I still get her to do it, though, for she has far more patience than I, and is therefore less likely to throw and break things.  Besides, she doesn’t swear, so it is less traumatic for the kitties!

But seriously, is there any reason that opening a new bottle of ibuprofen requires a degree in rocket science?  Or a bag of chicken tenders … “pull tab” it says … “tear along perforation” – what perforation???  There is no tab, there is no perforation … there is a dotted line, but it is not perforated!  Get the scissors … snip, clip … okay and … nothing!  I cut along the dotted line, but it is too far above that part where you can pull it open.  Finally, a butcher knife right to the heart of the package does the trick.  How much time was just wasted?  Luckily this time only a small bandage was required … last time it was a roll of gauze and adhesive tape!  And to think … people get paid big bucks to come up with these packaging designs.  Sigh.

MSNBC is not one of my ‘go-to’ sources.  First, they are owned by Comcast.  Second, they are left-biased.  Now, granted, my own leanings are toward the left of center, but when I want news, I want news … facts, reported accurately and without significant bias toward either side.  As Joe Friday used to say in the old Dragnet show, “just the facts, ma’am”.  That said, today I give MSNBC a thumbs-up for refusing, for the second time this month, to carry a White House press event.

The first time was on November 1st when the network refused to transmit live a fearmongering presidential address about immigration and the caravan in Mexico.  The second time was yesterday afternoon when, for the first time in about a month, White House Press Secretary Sarah Huckabee Sanders deigned to hold a ‘daily’ press briefing.  The briefing was a joke, naught but propaganda such as Larry Kudlow, Trump’s Director of the National Economic Council, saying, “We’ll see what happens. … Our economy’s in very good shape right now”.  Sounds rather like a replay of something Trump has said many times, doesn’t it?  Toe the party line.  The entire briefing, from what I can gather, was more of the same.  National Security Advisor John Bolton saying that he hasn’t listened to the audio recording of the killing of Jamal Khashoggi and sees no reason to do so. sanders-msnbcSanders herself rang in with, “I don’t think the president has any concerns about the [Mueller] report because he knows that there was no wrongdoing by him and that there was no collusion.”  It was a waste of the press’ time and a waste of anybody’s time who bothered to watch it.  Press briefings have become repetitious and uninformative.  You may disagree, but I think MSNBC made the right decision in this case, and I’d like to see more of the media outlets be a bit more discriminating about just what they choose to waste our time with.

And so, you now know how a bouncy mind works, and I shall return you to your regularly scheduled life!  Thanks for bouncing along with me today!bounce

Has Anybody Seen My Mind …?

Some call it multi-tasking … I call it ‘losing my mind’.  An example.  Yesterday morning, after the usual morning ritual of hair & toothbrushing (different brushes, thankfully), bed-making and tidying the bedroom/bathroom, I headed downstairs.  Being caffeine-deprived and not yet quite “with the program”, I forgot to stick my cell phone and smokes in my pocket.  It was an hour or so before I realized my oversight, and trotted (yes, trotted, for by now I had 20 ounces of lovely caffeinated coffee running through my veins) back upstairs to retrieve the errant phone and cigs.

forgetfulOn the way up, I grabbed the spare Tide pods that were waiting on the stairs for somebody to take them up to the supply rack in the hallway.  When I got to the top of the stairs and tried to place the pods on the rack, however, there was no space.  So, I tidied and organized the rack to make room for the Tide pods.  Much better … now there was actually extra space, for I had found a couple of empty light bulb boxes that nobody had bothered to throw out, so I trotted back down the stairs to toss the empty boxes.

confused-pandaWhere was I …???  Who knows … okay, must be time to fold the towels I washed a while ago.  That done, I sat down to take a break, check the news and … wait … where are my smokes?  Oy Vey!!!  I remember now … I went upstairs to get them but got sidetracked by the rack.  Okay … back up the stairs (the trotting has slowed just a bit now).  Into the bedroom … now what did I come up here for … oh yes … cell phone and cigarettes … wait, what’s this on the night table … a receipt?  Oh yes, my last grocery trip … I haven’t put that receipt into the computer yet … better do that while I’m thinking of it.  Back downstairs, reach for a smoke and … where are my blasted cigarettes???  Oh yeah …

Well, you get the picture, right?  It might not be so bad if I could just chalk it up to a one-time thing, but … this, my friends, is my life!  Every. Single. Day.

Ziggy-job-interviewI once interviewed for a job and the interviewer asked me how well I was able to multi-task.  That was back when I was 30-something and still (mostly) had my wits about me, but even then, I told her that in my opinion, multi-tasking was a fallacy, that nobody actually managed it, and that it cut down on efficiency and productivity.  Lovely speech, don’t you think?  I didn’t get the job.  That’s okay … there was another job I didn’t get because the interviewer, who was a head-hunter (recruiter) didn’t like my shoes!  And another I didn’t get because the interviewer asked me a stupid question (If you could be any animal, what would you be, and why?) and I told her it was a stupid question and had nothing whatsoever to do with my qualifications for the position.

But in the end, it was for the best that I got none of those jobs, for it wasn’t long until somebody saw what a great accountant I was and hired me almost on the spot.  Okay, they were desperate, and I had a big strike against me, as I had recently quit a job in favour of my ethics.  You know what?  Ethics can get you in trouble in corporate America.  In the situation to which I refer, I was asked to fudge some numbers, to break the law and risk losing my CPA license were it ever revealed so I refused and resigned before I could be fired.  But, it remained a black mark on my record.

confused-donkeyHow the Sam Heck did I get off on THAT topic?  You see what I mean?  I simply cannot stay focused … I wander, I drift, and I end up in places, not having the foggiest idea how or why I got there!  And then today in my email, I had an offer from an “assisted living” place to come and tour their facility!  And I keep getting notices in the mail from funeral homes, informing me of the urgency of planning now for the inevitable!  Sheesh … just because it takes me 14 trips up the stairs to finally remember to get my phone and smokes, they think I’m ready for the ash heap?  I’ll have them know that I am just … where is my coffee … where are my smokes … why am I eating a bowl of tuna???maxine-forgetful

On Being Found Wanting

Today, our friend Roger wrote a post that I have to share with you all. In the politically divided world we find ourselves in today, it is altogether too easy to wake up one morning and find that ‘we’ have become ‘they’, that our own voices are just as toxic as those with whom we disagree. Several times in the past year I have written a post, then scrapped it after a 2nd reading, realizing that it was more vitriolic than informative. Roger’s post speaks of his own struggles to remain above the fray, and his words, spoken from his heart, have value for us all. Many thanks, Roger, for sharing your thoughts and for your kind permission to re-blog.

Raging from the Lectern

Citizen present yourself before the tribunal….. 

Back in the good (that’s irony for all you humourless folk out there, of whatever political stripe) old days of Communist Rule, the powers in charge were very big on Critical Self-Examination. This meant some hapless person who had fallen out of favour got hauled up before a tribunal to confess whatever they’d been told to confess to if they really cared for their family or hoped they might get out in one piece. Having said they had been very, very wrong for whatever it was they had been told they had done wrong they would be shunted out to a firing squad, prison camp in the back of beyond, or if it was being blamed for the demise of the Committee’s potted plants simply sent to clean sewers with their bare hands for a while. No one considered ‘Not Guilty’ as an option.

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Eight Years Ago Today …

WP Anniversary

This morning, I found the above amidst my comments ‘n likes.  My jaw dropped.  Eight years?  I’ve been writing this blog for eight years, since 2010?  Who knew?  Of course, in the beginning it was only used as another venue for my book reviews, as I was hoping at the time to work my way into being a paid reviewer.  What could be better than getting paid for doing what you love to do anyway, right?  But, things happened, times changed, and I somehow … I’m still scratching my head here … gave up doing book reviews, stopped working on my Ph.D., and became a political blogger!  In truth, as I went back through my archives, I wrote only one post in 2010, and did not write another until 2012, when I wrote four, three of which were book reviews, including one of my favourites, Unbroken by Laura Hillenbrand.

The anniversary notice and the subsequent realization that it had been eight years already gave me some food for pondering about this blog, my blogging family, and what it all means to me.

Today, I have over 2,100 followers, but I well remember the day somewhere around 2013-2014 when I did a fist-pump because I had progressed to 30 followers!!!  I thought I was in the big leagues with my 30 followers.  Until I ran into Jason of HarsH ReaLiTy, aka aopinionatedman.  Jason had 56,000 followers and counting.  He and I have since parted ways, for he didn’t much care for my political views, but he helped me a lot in those early days, explaining the ins-and-outs of blogging, giving me pointers, and re-blogging some of my work, for which I remain eternally grateful.  I still don’t know how he does it, for he answers every comment, writes several posts each day, works a full-time job as a computer guru, and has a wife and two small children!  I struggle to write two posts a day and answer most comments, usually at 3:00 a.m.!  I hope I never get to 56,000, or I shall have to hire a staff.

The name?  This blog started as jilldennison blog.  Creative, huh?  My friend Herb — both of us speak fluent Spanish — suggested I rename it Filosofa’s Word, ‘Filosofa’ being Spanish for ‘philosopher’, and ‘word’ being English for … well, ‘word’! I liked it and so, that is what I named it!

In April 2015, my blog took a turn that was to change its face entirely and it turned into a socio-political blog with the shooting of Freddie Gray in Baltimore.  I remember that I couldn’t stop the tears, and I wrote about it as a catharsis, I needed to speak about it.  Since then I have written only three book reviews.  There goes my dream of becoming a paid reviewer, huh?  And then, of course, in June 2015 came the tsunami that would turn this into a political blog – Donald J. Trump announced his intention to run for president.  And nothing would ever be the same.  Other events in June 2015 also played a role:  The Supreme Court upheld subsidies for ACA (Obamacare) and most important of all, they ruled on Obergefell v Hodges, making same-sex marriage legal nationwide.  Also in June 2015, a young man named Dylan Roof walked into an African-American church in Charleston, South Carolina, and started shooting, killing nine people, and we came to realize that the face of our nation was changing.

And so, this blog changed its direction and is what I consider socio-political commentary, though obviously under the regime of Trump, it is more political than socio!  A few times, I fleetingly thought of giving it up, but in the back of my mind, I knew better.  It was just a debate me, myself and I needed to have to get my head back on straight, for sometimes the topics I write about take a very dark turn and send me down the rabbit hole.  So, what does this blog mean to me?

This blog takes up at least half, usually more, of my waking hours, and I would spend even more time on it if there weren’t such petty things as laundry, cooking and household chores to be done!  What I do … well, I’m pretty sure I’m not convincing any republicans that Donald Trump is a bloomin’ fool, and as my friend Hugh sometimes reminds me, I am mostly spitting in the wind, or preaching to the choir.  But, it gives me an outlet to share my thoughts, occasionally vent my angst.  But the best thing to come from writing this blog?  YOU!!!  Yes you … if you are reading this post, then you are a friend, a member of my blogging family, and you are a very real part of my life.  When I started this blog eight years ago, I never dreamed that I would meet such a wonderful and diverse bunch of people and that you guys would become friends.  Yes, friends, just as much as any that I see on a semi-regular basis.  Sometimes I tell you guys things that I don’t even tell my own family!  (No, they rarely read my blog, and then only if I threaten to withhold supper!)  

The future?  Who knows? Obviously, the best laid plans, etc., etc.  I suspect the U.S. political scene will continue to keep me busy for a few years yet, but time will tell.  A relatively new reader, Ellen, has suggested that I add an archive section to my blog, which I think is an excellent idea, and I plan to do so within the next couple of weeks.  Another reader, rawgod, has asked me twice now to feature myself in a ‘good people’ post, for he thinks I am a good people.  I don’t necessarily agree with him, but I love him for thinking so, and he is rather insistent, so who knows?

I love you guys and want to tell you all how very much it means when I see that you liked a post or left a comment.  And … well … 🥂 … here’s to another eight years together!  Thanks to you all for sticking with me and for being such great friends!

A few links to the aforementioned posts:


The Week From Hell

week from hellRarely do I make this blog a personal venue, but this has truly been the Week from Hell, both politically and personally.  Monday, I ran out of insulin because … the United States government in the form of U.S. Customs and Border Patrol (CBP) decided to detain my insulin shipment at the U.S.-Canadian border … for two weeks!  No explanation was given. Fortunately, my daughter was able to sweet-talk a local pharmacist into giving me an emergency supply, else I wouldn’t be writing this post.  And with assistance from the Canadian pharmacy, my insulin was finally released and arrived yesterday.

Also on Monday, we had to have our eldest cat, Orange, put to sleep.  He lived a long life, just short of 19 years, and I believe he would say a happy one.  He certainly got tons of love, and even his favourite yogurt frequently.  It was sad, but it was the right thing to do.  R.I.P., Orangie.  We miss you.  😿Orange-2Then on Tuesday, my Keurig coffee-maker had a mental breakdown.  I spent hours descaling it with vinegar, ran water through it at least 20 times, fixed myself, finally, a cup of coffee that tasted – just like vinegar!  🤢  Eventually I got all the vinegar rinsed through and it was working quite well.  I stopped short, though, of patting myself on the back, because something about the whole thing was nagging me.

Along came Thursday, and my computer decided to join the coffee pot and have its own mental breakdown.  I was typing along, and suddenly a blue screen popped up …blue screenNothing I tried would halt whatever process it was doing before shutting down.  Naturally, my first thought was a hacker or a virus, and I’m still not sure that isn’t the case, although McAfee has not reported any breeches.  It only took about 30 of my valuable minutes before the thing re-booted, but then my touchpad was activated.  I keep it disabled, for I use a wireless mini mouse (Minnie Mouse?) and in the process of typing, my wrists and hands typically skim the touchpad and throw me off course. So, I had to shut it down again, re-boot, and then all seemed well.  Except the space bar only worked about every 3rd time I hit it.  I sprayed canned air, thinking cat hair or a crumb might be in it, and I also beat it a few times, just for good measure.  And then, around 11:00 last night …blue screenAGAIN!!!  A diagnostics tests shows no problems.  So far today, knock-on-wood, it hasn’t faulted, but I’m just waiting.  And saving my work every 2-3 minutes!

Then this morning … remember I said I had a nagging feeling about the coffee pot?  Sigh.  Instead of the usual 10-ounce cup, I got approximately 2 teaspoons of coffee the first try.  A bit more on the second try, and by the sixth attempt, I was able to get a six-ounce cup.  Of something, though … it has a rather metallic taste.  Still, my body requires caffeine to function, so I’ll grin and bear it until daughter Chris gets home tonight, and then I will be out buying a coffee pot!

And add all of the above to the utter chaos we have seen coming from the White House this week, and I think you can see why I am calling it the Week from Hell.

I think it is time for me to take a day off.  I’m currently not planning any posts for tomorrow (Saturday), and I’m not even certain about Sunday at the moment.  Of course, I could change my mind later, but as of this moment, I will be taking a day off on Saturday.  I hope you all have a terrific weekend and do something fun with your families, as I plan to.  We need to give ourselves some distance from the carnage of the Trump presidency, even if only for a day.  Love ‘n hugs to you all!

Eve of Destruction

My music choices these days seem to run to protest songs … the other night I couldn’t get Joan Baez’ The Night They Drove Ol’ Dixie Down out of my head, and then tonight, as I was responding to comments, writing my post about Trump unleashed on the UK, and answering email, I found myself humming Barry McGuire’s Eve of Destruction.  I hesitated to share this one, for it isn’t a happy, upbeat cheery song.  But, it is reflective of how I feel tonight, and therefore it is honest and genuine … something this country could use a lot more of.  So, without further ado, and with a promise to be cheerier on the morrow, I give you Barry McGuire …

Eve of Destruction
Barry McGuire

The eastern world, it is explodin’,
Violence flarin’, bullets loadin’,
You’re old enough to kill but not for votin’,
You don’t believe in war, but what’s that gun you’re totin’,
And even the Jordan river has bodies floatin’,
But you tell me over and over and over again my friend,
Ah, you don’t believe we’re on the eve of destruction.

Don’t you understand, what I’m trying to say?
And can’t you feel the fears I’m feeling today?
If the button is pushed, there’s no running away,
There’ll be no one to save with the world in a grave,
Take a look around you, boy, it’s bound to scare you, boy,
And you tell me over and over and over again my friend,
Ah, you don’t believe we’re on the eve of destruction.

Yeah, my blood’s so mad, feels like coagulatin’,
I’m sittin’ here, just contemplatin’,
I can’t twist the truth, it knows no regulation,
Handful of Senators don’t pass legislation,
And marches alone can’t bring integration,
When human respect is disintegratin’,
This whole crazy world is just too frustratin’,
And you tell me over and over and over again my friend,
Ah, you don’t believe we’re on the eve of destruction.

Think of all the hate there is in Red China!
Then take a look around to Selma, Alabama!
Ah, you may leave here, for four days in space,
But when your return, it’s the same old place,
The poundin’ of the drums, the pride and disgrace,
You can bury your dead, but don’t leave a trace,
Hate your next door neighbor, but don’t forget to say grace,
And you tell me over and over and over and over again my friend,
You don’t believe we’re on the eve of destruction.
No, no, you don’t believe we’re on the eve of destruction.

Songwriters: P. F. Sloan, 1965
Eve of Destruction lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

Islands in the Stream

I have a feeling that not too many of you are country music fans, and quite honestly I’m not terribly fond of most country music, either.  I absolutely cannot stand bluegrass music, nor gospel.  And I don’t like anything that has a lot of twang and whiny lyrics. But there are some exceptions, and Kenny Rogers is definitely one of my exceptions.

Tonight’s song, Islands in the Stream, was written by the Bee Gees and is sung here by Kenny Rogers & Dolly Parton.  Named after the Ernest Hemingway novel, it was originally written for Marvin Gaye in an R&B style, only later to be changed for the Kenny Rogers album. It was released in August 1983 as the first single from Rogers’ album Eyes That See in the Dark.eyes that see in the darkThe song reached number one on the Billboard Hot 100 chart in the United States, giving both Rogers and Parton their second pop number-one hit (after Rogers’ “Lady” in 1980 and Parton’s “9 to 5” in 1981). It also topped the Country and Adult Contemporary charts.

I like the song … I like the energy and the camaraderie between Kenny & Dolly.  And … yes, I admit it … I don’t mind a bit looking at Kenny Rogers … he is not at all hard on the eyes!

kenny rogers

Islands in the Stream

Dolly Parton, Kenny Rogers


Baby when I met you there was peace unknown

I set out to get you with a fine tooth comb

I was soft inside

There was something going on


You do something to me that I can’t explain

Hold me closer and I feel no pain

Every beat of my heart

We got something going on


Tender love is blind

It requires a dedication

All this love we feel needs no conversation

We ride it together, ah ha

Making love with each other, ah ha


Islands in the stream

That is what we are

No one in between

How can we be wrong

Sail away with me

To another world

And we rely on each other, ah ha

From one lover to another, ah ha


I can’t live without you if the love was gone

Everything is nothing if you got no one

And you just walk in the night

Slowly losing sight of the real thing


But that won’t happen to us and we got no doubt

Too deep in love and we got no way out

And the message is clear

This could be the year for the real thing


No more will you cry

Baby I will hurt you never

We start and end as one

In love forever

We can ride it together, ah ha

Making love with each other, ah ha


Islands in the stream

That is what we are

No one in between

How can we be wrong

Sail away with me

To another world

And we rely on each other, ah ha

From one lover to another, ah ha


Islands in the stream

That is what we are

No one in between

How can we be wrong

Sail away with me

To another world

And we rely on each other, ah ha

From one lover to another, ah ha


Islands in the stream

That is what we are

No one in between

How can we be wrong

Sail away with me

To another world

And we rely on each other, ah ha

From one lover to another, ah ha


Islands in the stream

That is what we are

No one in between


Songwriters: Barry Gibb / Maurice Ernest Gibb / Robin Hugh Gibb

Islands in the Stream lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc, Universal Music Publishing Group

Imagine …

Imagine there’s no heaven
It’s easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us only sky
Imagine all the people living for today
Imagine there’s no countries
It isn’t hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people living life in peace, you
You may say I’m a dreamer
But I’m not the only one
I hope some day you’ll join us
And the world will be as one
Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people sharing all the world, you
You may say I’m a dreamer
But I’m not the only one
I hope some day you’ll join us
And the world will be as one
Songwriters: John Winston Lennon
Imagine lyrics © Downtown Music Publishing