Snoupi's Saloon

Autumn's Child Song Scenic Slideshow - Full HD Widescreen

2011-09-25T19:22:00.004-04:00

After much time spent struggling with new software and a cpu not quite up to the task, I have finally finished and uploaded a new HD Widescreen version of my Autumn's Child Scenic Song Slideshow. Hope you like it.

Monica Lewinsky Turns 45

2011-09-03T09:44:00.003-04:00

A little late on the draw for this one, but such an important historical figure should be properly remembered

Here's A little song to celebrate Monica Lewinsky's 45th birthday 9/2/2011:

A little Easter offering

2011-04-23T23:12:00.002-04:00

Happy Easter to all who celebrate Easter -- and Happy Day to those who don't

Here's a little Easter-flavored original song offering:

I'll Love You Always

If the River Could speak

2011-04-23T00:01:00.002-04:00

A little belated Earth Day offering:

Poem by Cowpasture Compatriot, Kelly Hamel;
Set to music by yours truly

Happy Groundhog Day!

2011-02-01T19:35:00.004-05:00

25 Years Ago...

2011-01-26T22:43:00.005-05:00

25 years ago - January 28, 1986

I remember watching Christa McAuliffe's parents, and the loved ones of the other astronauts staring uncomprehendingly at the catastrophe unfolding before their eyes.

And I pictured myself as one of them -- perhaps an alumnus of one of Christa McAuliffe's classes, -- trying in his own way to "reach for the stars"...

Nova
a song for Christa
in memory of the Challenger Seven

Crêpes Normandes

2010-12-30T19:39:00.003-05:00

I made my Crêpes Normandes for after-Christmas Brunch.
	Recipe at: Ma Normandie - Crêpes Normandes

Season's Greetings

2010-12-11T23:16:00.005-05:00

SEASON'S GREETINGS!

Click to Enjoy!

Autumn's Child Revisited

2010-10-26T23:10:00.004-04:00

I've put the final finishing touches on a remake of my 'Autumn's Child' musical slideshow video. Added new pictures and simplified the format. Hope you like it

My First EP!!!

2010-07-14T21:57:00.003-04:00

Hors d'œuvres - my first EP!!!

Tony Provencher - Hors d'Oeuvres - EPPR7

a BIG thank-you to Dan and Prosity Records!

Mary Travers, RIP

2009-09-18T00:28:00.001-04:00

House Concert with Amy Dixon-Kolar

2009-08-16T14:02:00.003-04:00

Last night we were delighted to attend a house concert featuring Amy Dixon-Kolar at the home of Mary and Randy Charles in Kennebunk, Maine.

Though I have known Amy through the ezFolk.com music site for a couple years, this was the first time I met her in person. It was more like seeing an old friend after a long time. Hugs and onversation came easily.

Amy's concert was a delight. Not only does she have an exceptional voice, but her musicianship is outstanding. Each song is a complete arrangement, as her guitar provides bassline, harmony, counterpoint, and call-and-response to her stirring vocals. She is expert at modulating volume and attack to give her music even more expresson and variety.

Amy started her set with Now it's Time, a song to which I personally relate:

The music never died
It was just buried alive
But now it's time for a resurrection
Now it's time

Next came Morning Quiet, a haunting gem that is a personal favourite.

Amy proceeded to delight us with a selection of widely varied offerings, including some blues, traditional songs, and covers, as well as her own superbly crafted originals. She ended her first set with her anthem to change and hope, Rosa Sat. In the tradition of Pete Seeger, she taught us the song and had us all singing along - a moving moment indeed!

Amy's concert was a real treat, as she demonstrated not only superb musicianship but also a great stage presence and a fine feel for entertaining her audience. We are blessed to have had her come to our area.

After the concert we had a little more conversation and hugs and posed for pictures. It was great to see my old friend!

Thank you, Amy, and thank you Mary and Randy.

ezFolk: An interview with Tony Provencher 8.14.09

2009-08-14T19:11:00.008-04:00

Yours truly is the subject of this week's artist interview by Holley Hall on ezFolk.com

ezFolk: An interview with Tony Provencher 8.14.09
Source: ezfolk.com
Free MP3 and video hosting for folk and acoustic artists.

Thank you, Holley.

Rest in Peace, Dad

2008-07-30T22:14:00.003-04:00

Dear friends,

Dad passed away early this morning.

I made this little poem for him recently:

Mother's Garden

Please keep him in your hearts and your prayers, and wish him safe journey.

Peace,
Tony

Happy Groundhog Day!

2008-02-02T18:58:00.000-05:00

Ma Normandie et Moi

2008-01-12T14:33:00.007-05:00

Below is an excerpt from a page in my new website, Ma Normandie dedicated to the song, Ma Normandie, by Frédéric Bérat, and the charming countryside that provided its inspiration:

Ma Normandie et Moi

This is a story of gifts. It all started some years ago, when my parents gifted me with a compact disc album, Vive la Normandie, by Émilio Corfa. I was very much taken with the beauty of the song, Ma Normandie. My mother was from Normandy, and I was born there. I loved visiting my Normandy, and had made a few stabs at making a song that would convey my love for this land, but with little success. The project was still on the back burner. When I heard Corfa's rendition of Ma Normandie, my quest was over. I knew that any attempt on my part to make another song like this masterpiece by Frédéric Bérat would pale by comparison. My new quest would be to make this song my own.

A few years later, my parents gifted me with an Appalachian dulcimer that they had picked up at a flea market. It was a sweet-sounding instrument with reasonably accurate intonation. Though I had never played the ducimer before, I was familiar with it from my college days, hanging around with my fellow 'folkies' and swapping songs between classes. Later, the popular Rhode Island folk duo, Atwater-Donnelly cemented my love and respect for the instrument. In short order I taught myself some playing techniques, and before long was working on an arrangement for Ma Normandie. When I thought I felt comfortable enough, I set out to unveil it in public.

I decided to debut the song at an open-mic in nearby Londonderry, New Hampshire. I invited my parents without telling them anything about my repertoire for the evening. I wanted to surprise them with a gift of the song they had given me on the instrument they had given me. I can't explain why -- perhaps, because it meant a lot to me -- but I found myself suffering from a terrible case of nerves that night. When it came my turn to play, I sat on the stage with my dulcimer in my lap, looked down at my dulcimer, and felt like I had never seen this instrument before. I was staring at a foreign fingerboard of fleeting frets. I managed to find a note here and there, and avoided striking any wrong notes, but I sang the song mostly a capella. The audience was polite, and my parents were appreciative, but I felt that my gift was inadequate.

A couple of months later, my wife and I attended the Rhode Island Old-Time Music Festival in Pawtucket, two days of banjo, dulcimer, and old-time music workshops, hosted by Aubrey Atwater, and featuring the great Jean Ritchie. On the evening of the first day, we had a round-robin, and I chose Ma Normandie. When my turn came around, I stepped up to the 'hot' seat right in front of Aubrey. Jean Ritchie was not in attendance, but I was still, once again, feeling overcome by nerves. With Aubrey over my left shoulder, I introduced the song, dedicated it to my mother, explained my nerves, and proceeded to play. This time it was magic. My trembling fingers did their job; my voice rang out pure and clear, if somewhat quavery, and the audience fell silent. When I came to the instrumental break, I heard the audience quietly humming along, and on the crescendo of the final verse, the audience came forth, humming and harmonising. As the last note faded, I heard Aubrey whisper, "Wow!"

Many congratulations, comments, and questions about the song followed. My wife pointed out that one young woman in the corner of the room had been brought to tears. This young woman, Bernadette came up to me and asked if I had a recording of the song, or if I would make a recording for her. We were invited to a get-together at Aubrey and Elwood's the next day. There Bernadette trotted out an old cassette recorder, and had me sing and record the song for her. Then Jean Ritchie came into the room, and Bernadette had me play the song for her -- A command performance for Jean Ritchie! -- Jean commented what a sweet song it was, and complimented me on my performance. My gift was worthy.

The following Spring, I visited my Normandy for the first time in thirty years, and found her beauty undiminished. It would be my mother's last visit in this life. She passed away in August of that year. We would return to Normandy the following year to spread her ashes in her beloved waters in the bay of the Mont-Saint-Michel. At her funeral I sang and played Ma Normandie for her. The gift was complete.

Autumn's Child

2007-09-28T00:30:00.000-04:00

Autumn is upon us once again -- my favourite time of year.

I've created a new musical slideshow to celebrate:

You will need Windows Media Player to view slideshow.FREE DOWNLOAD HERE

Enjoy!

Homesick

2007-04-28T14:42:00.000-04:00

This Tuesday, (May 1st.,) my father and my sister, Betty, are leaving for a couple of weeks in France to visit relatives and the place of departure of my mother's ashes in 'ma Normandie'.

Judy and I are staying behind, this year, to give our exhausted budget a chance to recover... but I sure am feeling homesick!

To help assuage my homesickness -- and to share 'ma Normandie' with you -- I have created this musical video slideshow:

Ma Normandie
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Takes some time to load... please be patient.
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A Song for Earth Day

2007-04-21T13:26:00.000-04:00

Some time ago, Kelly Hamel, a friend and fellow member of 'The Cowpasture Collective', which ran the Canal Street Coffeehouse and published the Merrimack Valley Progressive, wrote this poem. I was moved to make it into a song - a song for Earth Day:

If the River Could Speak

poem by Kelly Hamel
music by Tony Provencher

If the river could speak
of its worries and woes,
we would hear angry tears
in the sadness that flows.

If the meadow could speak
with a voice of its own,
we'd hear tell about people
who have hearts made of stone.

If the forests could scream
like a jet through the sky,
we would shudder with fear
as they toppled and died.

If the wind called your name,
as it sobbed through the trees,
and asked for your voice,
would you silently leave?

If the ocean turned red
from the blood of the earth,
would you still wash your hands
of the blame?

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Q: What shall we do with a drunken sailor? A: Put him at the wheel of an Exxon Tanker...

2007-04-16T22:29:00.002-04:00

Well, it took a while, but I finally recorded and uploaded this song, and am dedicating it, as promised to my nephew, Jeremy, and his wife, Michelle, who have embarked on a sail of the South Pacific, as part of a planned circumnavigation of the globe.

Stories and photos of their escapades can be viewed HERE

So -- Jeremy and Michelle, (and the wee tar in the hold,) -- This song is dedicated to you:

Drunken Sailor

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Lyrics

Presidents' Day

2007-02-19T07:11:00.001-05:00

Many of our presidents are remembered for the insightful and inspiring words they spoke:

George Washington: "The time is near at hand which must determine whether Americans are to be free men or slaves."

Abraham Lincoln: "Fourscore and seven years ago..."

Teddy Roosevelt: "Speak softly and carry a big stick."

John F. Kennedy: "And so, my fellow Americans... ask not what your country can do for you - ask what you can do for your country."

William Jefferson Clinton: "I experimented with marijuana a time or two... I didn't inhale." and "I did not have sexual relations with that woman..."

With that in mind, I offer, as my observance of Presidents' Day, this little ditty / history lesson:

Monica Lewinsky
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by snoupi

Monica Lewinsky
Tara Lipinski
I've always had trouble remembering names.

When I first heard the news
I was so confused.
I heard that our pres was with what-was-her-name;
That cute little skater?
With that old masterb... beguiler?
She was only fifteen, what a crime and a shame!

Now, I see you shake your head and say that I'm confused;
That is not the crime of which our president was accused!

No, Monica Lewinsky,
I mean, Tara Lipinski
Won an Olympic gold medal, an ice skating star!
But Tara Lipinski,
I mean, Monica Lewinsky
Won fame for what she did with the president's cigar!

She smoked it in a most peculiar way.
And told Linda Tripp how she'd been led astray.

Ken Starr, the old fogey,
He wanted that stogie;
He wanted to put Mr. Clinton in jail.
But Bill wasn't guilty
Of anything filthy;
He didn't really have sex, 'cause he didn't...

inhale.

The Lord Helps Those...

2007-02-17T13:11:00.000-05:00

I don't know if anyone saw this onTV or in the papers earlier. I found this story inspiring:

from The Columbus Dispatch January 29, 2007

Robbers pick the wrong church

We certainly have been changed in the aftermath of 9/11.

This song came from that inspiration -- rough draft for now:

The Lord Helps Those...

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words and music by Tony Provencher

Once upon a Sunday morn

In Columbus Ohio

Bob and Carol rose from bed

To worship they would go.

Father Michael said his sermon;

The basket passed around;

And just before the bread was broke

Carol heard a rustling sound.

The woman sitting next to her

Had stolen Carol’s purse.

When Bob rose to defend his wife

The woman yelled a curse.

The man who had come with her,

He pulled out a gun.

He pistol-whipped poor Bob and said

These words when he was done:

The Lord helps those who help themselves.

We’ll help us to our fill.

The Lord helps those who help themselves --

This pistol says we will.

So hand over your wallets,

Your bags and purses too.

The Lord helps those who help themselves --

We’ll help ourselves to you.

But while the thieves were gathering

The bags and wallets too.

A fire stirred up in the hearts

Of people in the pews.

"Let’s roll," the voices rumbled,

The ghosts of Flight 93;"

Let’s roll; the Lord helps those who help..."

"Let’s roll! Get off your knees!"

The Lord helps those who help themselves --

‘Let’s Roll’ our battle cry --

The Lord helps those who help themselves --

Let’s roll; let’s do or die!

Those thieves cannot imagine

That we would ever dare...

The Lord helps those who help themselves --

Those thieves don’t stand a prayer!

And so they rolled into the thieves,

While others used their phones.

They rushed and threw the gunman down;

The woman ran alone.

They held the gunman down

As the police sirens wailed

The thieves were put in handcuffs then

And taken off to jail.

Bob went to the Hospital;

Got stitches, nothing worse.

Carol said a prayer of thanks

For getting back her purse.

The congregation gathered

For services delayed.

Then Father Michael broke the Bread

And grateful prayers were prayed.

The Lord helps those who help themselves --

You can pray your woes away --

The Lord helps those who help themselves --

But it’s not in the words you say --

Just hold on to your bootstraps

And give a tug or two --

The Lord helps those who help themselves --

It’s in the things you do.

Amen.

Je Suis Grand-Père

2007-01-23T19:56:00.001-05:00

Random Image:

2006-12-30T17:16:00.002-05:00

Happy Holidays!

2006-12-19T22:57:00.000-05:00

A little musical slideshow Christmas card for our friends!

Turn volume on if you dare!

2006-10-17T23:02:00.000-04:00

Guess who has been selected this week's

Tony Provencher

Happy Autumn

2006-09-23T17:32:00.000-04:00

Autumn --
my favourite time of year --
a time, at once, of change and timelessness --
a time of reflection and reminiscence...

I have created this musical slide show of Autumnal photos I have taken, set to my song,'Autumn's Child' (best viewed full-screen @ 1024X768 resolution):

Autumn's Child Music Slideshow

Hope you enjoy it.

Boston Folk Festival '06

2006-09-19T07:45:00.000-04:00

Went to the Boston Folk Festival this weekend at UMass Boston. The campus is a lovely venue, situated on a paeninsula off Boston Harbour. The weather was perfect. Sadly, we were not allowed to take photos nor (obviously) use any recording devices. I did get a hat and a duckie, though.

We arrived just in time to commemorate the thirtieth anniversary of his demise with the Phil Ochs Tribute, hosted by Sonny Ochs, and featuring Kim and Reggie Harris, Greg Greenway, and emma's revolution. They all together started the set off with 'Power and Glory'. I wept. The sound and the memories reached deep into my soul.

My eyes misted up again when Greg Greenway performed a haunting rendition of 'No More Songs'.

I pulled myself together enough to lend my voice to everyone else's on the finale, 'When I'm Gone', a song that, for me says it all:

"And I won't be laughing at the lies when I'm gone

And I can't question how or when or why when I'm gone

Can't live proud enough to die when I'm gone

So I guess I'll have to do it while I'm here."

Next we were treated to the sweet voice of Tish Hinojosa singing her songs of the West and her multi-cultural heritage.

Next came Richie Havens, another moving and spiritual experience, as he interwove tales of his Greenwich village days with stirring renditions of topical songs of yesterday and today, all relevant to our current sociopolitical experience.

His performance of 'Lives in the Balance':

"There are lives in the balance

There are people under fire

There are children at the cannons

There is blood on the wire"

was nothing short of electrifying.

A beautifully hypnotic rendition of Joni Mitchell's 'Woodstock' led into a climactic performance of 'Freedom/Motherless Child' which left us shaken AND stirred. Pass the hanky please.

Havens left us with a message of love -- "Do for each other..." which seemed to become the theme of this folk festival.

Eileen Ivers and Immigrant Soul came on next to close the evening, and got everybody dancing and singing with their exuberantly and impeccably played blend of Celtic, Jazz, and show tunes. We were tired puppies as we headed home.

The next day, we arrived too late to catch Tony Bird, a performer I had hoped to see.

We staked out our spot in the main field and enjoyed the traditional and original songs dance tunes of the Cottars,a fine group of young musicians from Cape Breton.

Next came the Kennedys. Pete and Maura Kennedy regaled us with their captivating and spiritual original songs, including 'Half a Million Miles', a delightful song about their falling in love and marrying at Buddy Holly's grave.

In keeping with the aforementioned unofficial, yet apparent theme of the festival Pete and Maura taught us to sing in Sanskrit and Japanese:

"Namistai, (the divine spark in me recognises the divine spark in you,)

Domo Arigato, (thank you.)

Next we moved to the Coffehouse Stage to hear Pierce Pettis perform his very moving original songs.

We returned to our stakeout in the main field to hear Jesse Winchester, another favourite of mine. Jesse's laid back demeanor gave the impression, even though we were several thousand strong, sitting in a six or seven acre field, that we were invited for a little chat in his living room. The chat was filled with Jesse's beautiful voice, untarnished by time, singing some of the most accessible melodies ever written, delivering lovely lyrics that touched us all deep inside.

The spiritual theme of the festival continued as Jesse finished by leading us all in a rousing a cappella gospel song.

Which leads us to the headliner for the festival -- Bruce Cockburn. Bruce is not only a brilliant lyricist, but also a consummate musician. Accompanied by only a drummer and a keyboardist who doubled on harmony vocals, Bruce delivered an impeccable set that was at once danceable and enjoyable, and yet spiritually profound. Like the songs of Phil Ochs, Bruce's songs, while topical, are timeless.

Bruce paints a bleak picture of Baghdad today in 'This Is Baghdad':

"Carbombed and carjacked and kidnapped and shot

How do you like it, this freedom we brought"

Bruce dipped into his new album to end his set with a sing-along song called 'Mystery'. One of my favourite verses from this song is:

"Infinity always gives me vertigo

Vertigo

Infinity always gives me vertigo

And fills me up with grace"

The last verse reiterates the theme of the festival:

"So all you stumblers who believe love rules

Believe love rules

Come all you stumblers who believe love rules

Stand up and let it shine

Stand up and let it shine"

We all stood shining and applauding and brought him back for an encore -- 'If I Had a Rocket Launcher'. We remained standing and dancing through this song. Amazing how relevant the lyrics are today, some twenty years later!

We headed back to the car to the driving beat of 'Night Train', a perfect finish to a perfect weekend.

My New Instruments

2006-07-26T01:18:00.000-04:00

Hi, Folks,

A couple of months ago I returned from France with a small inheritance. I used most of it to lighten my debt load, and squandered the rest on musical instruments and such. I bought a Roland MP 60 piano, an Edirol UA 4-FX Recording interface, (which I still can't get to work with my computer,) and these two folk instruments: an Ome Juniper openback banjo, and a Walnut Creek mountain dulcimer:

I took a little ride to Bar Harbor, Maine, to try out the Walnut Creek dulcimers at:

The folks there are very nice, and have a great array of folk instruments at reasonable prices.

I bought my Ome banjo online at:

John there is also very nice. Anybody who sells banjos and unicycles can't be all bad.

Here are a couple of tunes I laid down quickly to give everyone a chance to hear these wonderful instruments, (albeit clumsily played):

The Cruel War / How Can I Keep from Singing
Dulcimer
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Shady Grove / Pretty Polly
Banjo
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Road Rage Handbook: Turnsignals

2006-07-13T20:44:00.000-04:00

Q. Why doesn't anybody use their turnsignals anymore?

A. Because using your turnsignals gives your opponent the advantage.

a day late and a dollar short

2006-07-05T22:25:00.000-04:00

Richard, our ezFolk guru, some time ago started a patriotic song project on the ezFolk forums to coincide with the approach of the Fourth of July. My contribution is late, as usual.

I knew that I wanted to do something with Woody Guthrie's This Land Is Your Land.

I also knew this:

"The anthem of unity and beauty which so many children learned in school was actually written in response to the equally reverenced "God Bless America". ... Woody was infuriated with the lack of realism and the message of complacency in this song which infiltrated the nation's air waves. In response, he wrote "God Blessed America For Me" which later became "This Land Is Your Land"."

from AMERICAN STUDIES at the University of Virginia

So I endeavoured to create a sort of a medley:

It took me awhile to put it together and teach it to myself. I still can't play it all the way through without a noticeable mistake.

It's a day late; it's a dollar short; it's crude, but here it is:

This Land Is Your Land / God Bless America

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HAPPY FOURTH OF JULY!

2006-07-04T11:48:00.000-04:00

"Dissent is the highest form of patriotism."
______________________Thomas Jefferson

Vacation Pics

2006-06-17T14:20:00.000-04:00

Vacation Pics are up. You can view them on .

Chris Pearline - ezFolk Featured Artist

2006-05-12T09:13:00.001-04:00

My friend, Christian Larousserie (Chris Pearline) has been chosen

ezFolk Featured Artist - May 8-14 2006

Mes félicitations, mon ami!

ezFolk Featured Artist!

2006-04-19T21:49:00.002-04:00

Guess who is
ezFolk Featured Artist of the Week - April 17-23?!!

Yes, It's yours truly! I'm gabberflasted!
HAD to share it with you!

A Song to Celebrate the First Day of Spring

2006-03-20T09:12:00.000-05:00

Nineteenth Time

words and music by Tony Provencher

Ah, Time...
The carousel on which we ride,
The wheel of chance that rules our lives...
'Round and 'round she goes,
Where she stops, nobody knows,
And even after we are gone
The carousel will still roll on.

And when my painted pony loped
Toward the green season of hope
For the nineteenth time for me
I saw you riding next to me.

Yes, Time was turning long before,
And so she will forever more,
days, and weeks, and months, and years,
Measuring our smiles and tears.

Ah, Time...
The carousel on which we ride,
The wheel of chance that rules our lives...
'Round and 'round she goes,
Where she stops, nobody knows,
And even after we are gone
The carousel will still roll on.

And, one day, in a magic dream,
We left our ponies for the green.
We left them going 'round and 'round
To walk the moist and grassy ground.

And, hand in hand, 'neath shady pines,
We followed in the Steps of Time,
Up a hill, and to the top,
And 'neath the tallest tree they stopped.

And, here, all alone, at the top of the hill,
You and I, we discovered where Time had stood still.
And here, where our lives were unbound,
And the world lay beneath us, unmeasured,
I kissed you... forever.

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CHENEY SHOOTS FRIEND IN HUNTING ACCIDENT

2006-02-13T20:35:00.000-05:00

Twenty Years Ago: January 28, 1986

2006-01-27T18:43:00.000-05:00

Nova

(Christa's Song)

in memory of the Challenger Seven

My mind was filled with wonder at the beauty of the sight

As the pure white cloud exploded in a sky of azure blue,

And seven shooting stars sailed into the silent sea.

Then I awoke and realised that one of them was you.

Reach for the stars, you told us, reach for the stars.

Teach us how to soar and to be greater than we are.

I stood alone for many years, rooted to this place,

Planning plans and dreaming dreams that never ever flew.

You stole my hopes and plans and dreams and fantasies away,

And bravely soared away with them into the mystic blue.

Reach for the stars, you told us, reach for the stars.

Teach us how to soar and to be greater than we are.

And now, when I go out beneath the stellar canopy,

I see my hopes and plans and dreams blazing in the sky.

And I will always think of you, and how we all held our breath,

As we watched you go Nova in the winking of an eye.

Reach for the stars, you told us, reach for the stars.

Teach us how to soar and to be greater than we are.

And my mind was filled with wonder at the beauty of the sight

As the pure white cloud exploded in a sky of azure blue,

And seven shooting stars sailed into the silent sea.

Then I awoke and realised that one of them was you.

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The Toy Boy by John Lennon - Search Is Over!

2006-01-05T20:22:00.001-05:00

My long search for an "official" copy of John Lennon's poem, The Toy Boy, has ended with the felicitous acquisition of a copy of the December 1965 issue of McCall's Magazine, in which it was first published. Many thanks to Sandra and Victoria at the 84 Charing Cross Bookstore.

You can view the pages in their original size by clicking the images.

Click herefor magnified image of poem.

Below in text format is the poem in its entirety. Enjoy!

THE TOY BOY
BY JOHN LENNON

“I don't believe a word of it,
I think it's too absurd of it,
It's just an Old Wives' Tale, I bet,
The silliest and softest yet.
Imagine, if it walked and that,
Surely it would crush us flat!
It's such a giant thing, you know.
All in all, it goes to show
How stupid can you be?"

This was Ralph the Elephant,
Talking loud and eloquent,
Bossing all the Bears and Cats, .
All the Dogs and Policemen's Hats,
Shouting down the Wise Old Shoe,
Who said that what he said was true.
"I don't care what you say to me.
I've been on his foot, you see?"
And he had.

"I've beard it squeaking," said the horse.
"Though I can't be sure! of course—
I could have sworn it climbed on me
When I was asleep, you see!"
"What nonsense!" Ralph replied at length.
"Do you think it has the strength?
I call this meeting to a close.
All in favor—raise their nose.
We'll take a vote!"

"Unfair, unfair!" the Toys all said.
"Shoes and Hats have got no head!"
"How can they vote, I ask you now?”
Said the 'Brown but friendly Cow.
"We'll wait until the break of day,
To prove the truth of what we say."
"Agreed, agreed!" said Sydney Shoe,
Who felt he was the one who knew.
He probably was.

The Clock struck eight, as clocks will do,
At eight o'clock—that's nothing new
Except that this clock never could,
Unless you asked it if it would.
The clock obligingly conferred,
"I will not chime unless I'm heard!"
He was an artiste, so you see—
He didn't like to chime for free!
You know how it is.

As it struck, the room went dead.
A little voice came from the bed.
"Is anybody there?" it spoke.
"Or is this someone's kind of joke?
I could have sworn I heard a voice-
Perhaps me grannie made the noise,
Her early-warning coughing fit
As she gets her ciggie lit—
But I doubt it.

"Im sure it came from over there,
From my toys, beneath the chair.
I can't believe it—but it's true
Somebody has moved my shoe!
The one I got from Uncle Tom,
Who said he only needed one.
And Elephant and Carol Cow,
They must have moved—I wonder how?
It's most peculiar!

“I think I ought to tell my dad.
I have no secrets," said the lad.
"And Mother, she's a right to see
All this nonconformity."
So he went and told them all,
And suddenly he felt so small,
Because they took him in the car
To see that awful Doctor Parr,
Who certified him.
There you are.

COPYRIGHT© 1965 BYJOHN LENNON

Happy New Year

2006-01-02T15:37:00.000-05:00

Happy "New" Year

What does "new", (often combined with "improved",) mean?
That the container is bigger, but the contents are fewer, and the price has gone up...

Simon Swanson

SnoopySmileys

2005-12-22T17:54:00.000-05:00

Christmas in the Trenches

2005-12-21T21:02:00.000-05:00

words & music by John McCutcheon

Inspired by a back-stage conversation with an old woman in Birmingham, AL, this song tells a story that is not only true, but well-known throughout Europe. For some of the history behind the 1914 WWI Christmas Truce, click here.

My name is Francis Tolliver, I come from Liverpool,
Two years ago the war was waiting for me after school.
To Belgium and to Flanders to Germany to here
I fought for King and country I love dear.
'Twas Christmas in the trenches where the frost so bitter hung,
The frozen fields of France were still, no Christmas song was sung,
Our families back in England were toasting us that day,
Their brave and glorious lads so far away.

I was lying with my messmate on the cold and rocky ground
When across the lines of battle came a most peculiar sound
Says I, "Now listen up, me boys!" each soldier strained to hear
As one young German voice sang out so clear.
"He's singing bloody well, you know!" my partner says to me
Soon one by one each German voice joined in in harmony
The cannons rested silent, the gas clouds rolled no more
As Christmas brought us respite from the war.

As soon as they were finished and a reverent pause was spent
"God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen" struck up some lads from Kent
The next they sang was "Stille Nacht," "Tis 'Silent Night'," says I
And in two tongues one song filled up that sky.
"There's someone coming towards us!" the front line sentry cried
All sights were fixed on one lone figure coming from their side
His truce flag, like a Christmas star, shone on that plain so bright
As he bravely strode unarmed into the night.

Soon one by one on either side walked into No Man's land
With neither gun nor bayonet we met there hand to hand
We shared some secret brandy and we wished each other well
And in a flare-lit soccer game we gave 'em hell.
We traded chocolates, cigarettes, and photographs from home
These sons and fathers far away from families of their own
Young Sanders played his squeeze box and they had a violin
This curious and unlikely band of men.

Soon daylight stole upon us and France was France once more
With sad farewells we each began to settle back to war
But the question haunted every heart that lived that wondrous night
"Whose family have I fixed within my sights?"
'Twas Christmas in the trenches, where the frost so bitter hung
The frozen fields of France were warmed as songs of peace were sung
For the walls they'd kept between us to exact the work of war
Had been crumbled and were gone for evermore.

My name is Francis Tolliver, in Liverpool I dwell
Each Christmas come since World War I I've learned its lessons well
That the ones who call the shots won't be among the dead and lame
And on each end of the rifle we're the same.

©1984 John McCutcheon/Appalsongs (ASCAP)
Taken from The John McCutcheon Folk Music Page

George, God here ...

2005-10-07T20:12:00.000-04:00

President Bush has words with the Almighty
Terry JonesFriday October 22, 2004

"George?"

"Yes?"

"This is God here ..."

"Hi, God. What can I do for you?"

"I want you to stop this Iraq thing, George."

"But you told me to do it, God!"

"No I didn't, George ..."

"But you did! You spoke to me through Karl, Rumsey and Dick and all those other really clever guys!"

"How did you know it was me talking, George?"

"Instinct, God. I just knew it!"

"Do you really think I'd want you to unleash all this horror and bloodshed on another lot of human beings?"

"But they're Muslims! They don't believe in You, God!"

"But, George, they do believe in me. Jews, Christians and Moslems all worship the same Me! Didn't you do comparative theology at school, George?"

"No, of course not! You think I'm some sort of peace-waving dope-headed liberal faggot-lover, God?"

"No, of course not, George, but I expect you to know something about the people you're bombing."

"Oh, come on! I know it's right to bomb those oily rag-heads until there's not one left to wipe a wrench on!"

"How do you know that, George?"

"Cause You tell me that's what I should do, God."

"George, I do not tell you to do that!"

"But I hear You, God! You speak to me! You tell me what to do! You tell me what is Right and what is Wrong! That's why I don't need to listen to any soft-baked, mealy-mouthed liberal Kerry-pickers!"

"George, you're deluding yourself."

"God! How can you say that? I got some of the most powerful people on this planet down on their knees every day in the White House just a-praying to You! Now are you gonna tell me You ain't listening? Because if You ain't listening, God, that's Your problem - not mine!"

"George, of course I'm listening - it's you who is not listening to Me!"

"And I'll tell you why! 'Cause You ain't addressing me right."

"What d'you mean, you jumped-up little Ivy League draft-dodger?"

"If you're so 'omniscient', God, you oughta know that you gotta go through Karl Rove, John Ashcroft, Rumsey and Dick ... those fellas know what they're talking about! I can't listen to just any deity who can pick up the phone!"

"But, I'm God, George!"

"Does Karl say you are?"

"But why do you believe Karl?"

"Because my gut tells me he's right!"

"Listen, you ignorant little pinch-eyed Billy Graham convert! Can't you get it into your head that I'm God and I'm telling you to stop all this 'pre-emptive strike' nonsense! Stop destroying Iraq! Stop supporting that monster Sharon! Stop picking a fight with the only other human beings on the planet that believe in Me! You're leading the world into unbelievable chaos and horror!"

"That's enough, God! That's just the sort of defeatist crap that I won't allow in the White House! Get out of here!"

"I cannot believe I'm hearing this, George."

"Well you better start believing, God, because this is the new reality. Don'tcha know that a recent Gallup poll shows that 42% of Americans identify themselves as 'born again'? That cuts across Republicans and Democrats, rich and poor, white and black! This is a real political power base, God, and you'd better believe it!"

"Look, all I'm asking is for you to show a little compassion to your fellow human beings!"

"I'm not going to debate this with you, God! You're beginning to sound like you belong to the reality-based community!"

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Well by the 'reality-based community', we mean people who believe that solutions emerge from their judicious study of discernible reality."

"Sounds fair enough..."

"But, as one of my advisors told Ron Suskind of the Wall Street Journal: 'The reality-based community is not the way the world really works any more. We're an empire now and, when we act, we create our own reality. And while you're studying that reality - judiciously, as you will - we'll act again, creating other new realities, which you can study too, and that's how things will sort out. We're history's actors . . . and you, all of you, will be left to just study what we do'."

"You mean...you don't give a damn, George?"

"I mean You speak through me, God, not the other way round! Is that clear?"

"Yes, Mr President."

Autumn's Child

2005-09-25T21:49:00.000-04:00

by Snoupi

The leaves are turning brown and gold,
And evening shivers from the cold.
The Autumn wind blows free and wild,
And I am born - Autumn's child.

Another year has passed away,
And it's getting close to end of day.
Soon the world will sleep in snow.
I wonder - where do dead days go?

Sunset slowly drips away
The graceful exit of the day
In the caverns of my mind.
And every Fall I look behind.

The leaves are turning brown and gold,
And evening shivers from the cold.
The Autumn wind blows free and wild,
And I am born - Autumn's child.

Autumn Evening's shadows cast
The thought of friends and lovers past
Into my melancholy mind,
Sending shivers down my spine.

I'm walking down forgotten ways
In reruns of forgotten days.
I feel forgotten tears and smiles,
And Death gives birth to Autumn's child.

The leaves are turning brown and gold,
And evening shivers from the cold.
The Autumn wind blows free and wild,
And I am born - Autumn's child.

HiFi MP3 Audio (Broadband)
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Smiles

2005-09-12T21:29:00.000-04:00

by Snoupi

One day, many years ago,
Mister Sun was feeling low.
He hid behind the clouds up there,
Because it seemed that no one cared.

He tried to shine his smile so fair,
But, still it seemed that no one cared.
So, once again, he hid his frown
Behind the clouds above the town.

Then, once, as he tried to smile so dim,
A little Daisy smiled at him.
So Mister Sun's dim smile grew bright,
And the little Daisy's opened wide.

The more he smiled, the more did she;
The more did she, the more did he.
And soon the world was bathed in Sun,
And people smiled at every one.

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2005-07-09T18:33:00.000-04:00

'nuff said

2005-06-27T17:00:00.001-04:00

dead man of the mountain

Seen on a homemade sign in Barnstead NH

2005-06-26T23:40:00.000-04:00

"Dissent is the highest form of patriotism."
___________________Thomas Jefferson

2005-05-09T19:45:00.000-04:00

Jerm sent me this. I just HAD to share it.

The Toy Boy by John Lennon

2005-04-23T17:46:00.001-04:00

I've searched and searched the web for this to no avail, so, having an (unofficial) copy of it, sent to me years ago by a friend, I thought I'd post this:
(Special thanks to Rebel)

Edit: On January 5, 2006, I finally found and acquired an "Official" copy. See it HERE

The Toy Boy
by John Lennon

“I don’t believe a word of it
I think it’s too absurd of it
It’s just an old wives tale, I bet,
The softest and the silliest yet
Imagine if it walked and that
Surely it would crush us flat
It’s such a giant thing you know
And all in all it goes to show
How stupid can you be?”

This was Ralph the elephant
Talking loud and eloquent
Bossing all the bears and cats
All the shoes and policemen’s hats
Shouting down the old wise shoe
Who thought he was the one who knew
“I don’t care what you say to me
I’ve been on his foot you see!”
And he had!

“I’ve heard it squeaking,” said the horse,
“Though I can’t be sure of course
I could have sworn it climbed on me
When I was asleep you see!”
“What nonsense!” Ralph replied at length,
“Do you think it has the strength?
I call this meeting to a close
All in favor raise their nose
We’ll take a vote!”

“Unfair! Unfair!” the toys all said,
“Shoes and hats they have no head!”
“How can they vote, I ask you now!”
Said the brown but friendly cow.
“We’ll wait until the break of day
To prove the truth in what we say.”
“Agreed! Agreed!” said Sidney Shoe
Who thought he was the one who knew.
He probably was.

The clock struck eight as clocks will do
At eight o’clock that’s nothing new
Except that this one never could
Unless you asked it if it would.
The clock obligingly conferred –
“I will not chime unless I’m heard!”
He was an artiste so you see
He didn’t like to chime for free.
You know how it is.

As it struck the room went dead
A little voice came from the bed
“Is anybody there?” it spoke,
“Or is this someone’s kind of joke?
I could have sworn I heard a voice
Maybe Grannie made the noise
In her early waning fit
As she gets her ciggie lit
But I doubt it”

“It must have come from over there
From my toys beneath the chair
I can’t believe it but it’s true
Somebody has moved my shoe!
The one I got from Uncle Tom
Who said he needed only one.
And Sidney Shoe and Carol Cow
They must have moved, I wonder how
It’s most peculiar.”

“I think I ought to tell my dad,
I have no secrets,” said the lad,
“And mother she’s a right to see
All this nonconformity.”
And so he went and told them all
And suddenly he felt so small
Because they took him in the car
To see that awful Doctor Par
Who certified him
There you are!

Edit: On January 5, 2006, I finally found and acquired an "Official" copy. See it HERE