Eye Take Know Response Ability

Last night I went to bed with the bedroom window open. It was one of those incredible sleeping moments. I was treated to a cool breeze flavored with lilacs and a touch of mock orange blossoms. The night birds were trying out all of their new songs. I was genuinely spent physically and content emotionally when I lay my head on my pillow. My last thought was about it being gorgeous end to a wonderful day. Then I took an ethereal ride to a bizarre dream that would normally give me nightmares. I dreamed about doing statistical analyses of a variety of events that ranged from normal and stopped at downright embarrassing. The best part? Pearl Jam was playing a live concert for me and my cohorts as we diligently made our computations and pronouncements of validity. Why would this normally give me nightmares? I don't do math or Pearl Jam. A friend of mine tried to get me to listen to a Pearl Jam song once. The lyrics were so raunchy they could stop the heart of a truck driving longshoreman.

It wasn't one of those songs they were playing in my dream. They were playing songs that my mother used to sing to us when we were very young. My mom was a character. She had a genius level IQ, a tenth grade education formally and a PhD from the school of life. She was nearly 6' tall, had big green eyes, a great voice and a wicked sense of humor. She was well read, knew her world history and made just about every mistake a young woman could make on her road to maturity. She died at 50 and I knew that was young but as I am going to be 55 this year, I understand more and more just how young she was.

In my dream it was perfectly natural that a band I loath as I loath Pearl Jam should be singing songs from mom's repertoire. She used to sing to us about Horace the horse on the merry-go-round. He went up and down, round and round but he's been sad since the day he found he was the very last horse on the merry-go-round. Horace tried and tried but he just never could win. Horace cried and cried 'cause all the other horses were ahead of him. Then one day on the merry-go-round, Horace looked and turned around and he said "Gosh! Oh, Gee! I am the very first horse on the merry-go-round 'cause the others are a followin' me!" I think I was 16 when I figured out what that song meant.

Then there was the song about the woman washing her baby down the fluddle. Fluddle? What's that? Well it seems a woman was washing her baby one night, poor little mate, so slim and so slight. She turned 'round to get the soap on the rack, twas only a moment...but when she turned back. "Oh where, oh where is my baby!" she cried. "Oh where, oh where can he be? Oh where oh where is my baby?!" she cried and the angels they replied:

"Your baby has gone down the drainpipe! Your baby has gone down the float. Poor little mate, so slim and so slight, he should have been washed in a jug! Your baby is perfectly happy, though the chlorine is bad for his eyes. He's 'avin' a swim and it's 'ealthy for 'im! He needed the exercise. Don't worry yourself just be 'appy, and remember 'e suffered no pain. Your baby has gone down the fluddle. Let's 'ope 'e don't stop up the drain!"

I'm not certain I got those lyrics in the right order but there really is a song like this. Mom sang it often when I was young. She sang lots of songs from the 50s and 60s. Streets of Laredo was a favorite of hers when she was working. Ghost Riders in the Sky has never been sung so hauntingly as it was by mom. She should have recorded it. That and the song Last Kiss were my mom's best.

So, why this trip down memory lane? I woke up thinking about two things: blogging with the title of the blog article was as you see it and some verses in Daniel 2:20-23. I agree, that's pretty strange and I don't think for a minute I can call this an edifying post, here it is nonetheless. Here's the strangest bit of all. While writing this I looked online for the lyrics to Last Kiss and guess what I found?

I can't explain it. I never knew they did it and no, I don't think God is trying to speak to me in my dreams. I'm filing this under random things I cannot explain but make life interesting for moment. That said, I take no responsibility......

Super Church a song for the Emergent-sy

In the early 70s I was in a youth choir at my church. Our youth pastor was a musician and his way of connecting with us as a group was through the choir and music. Somehow there was an affiliation between him and The Continental Singers, New Hope and Jeremiah People. He was worked with Moishe Rosen of Jews for Jesus too, I think. Are any of these names familiar to you? Though I remember the church fondly I was a profoundly lost and troubled young woman during my years there. That and time have muddled the memories quite a bit. Today I was digging through some old paperwork and one of the books to the musical we did. It's Getting Late For the Great Planet Earth, a folk rock oratorio by Cam Floria. Yes, that's right. Cam Floria put Hal Lindsey to music. There's a lot to laugh about and some to groan about but as I was looking through the songs and remembering, I found this little ditty and I only wish I could sing it for you. Just remember that this is circa 1972 and even th...

It's all part of growing up

Today is my birthday. I am 51. I have officially lived longer than my mother. I have survived several major earthquakes, three fires, five floods, uterine cancer, having my infant body burned by percolating coffee and a childhood from hell. I have been stalked by a madman, been asked to be interviewed for the Australian version of 60 Minutes, received a bronze medal and helped foil a kidnap attempt of a celebrity. In my short 51 years, I have had an incredible life. I was asked by a former student what advice I would give a 30 year old that I have come to value now that I am in my 50s. The list of things that I value now that I didn't value then and vice versa is huge. Since my current topic is discipline, I would have to say that I wish I had cultivated discipline at an earlier age. Much earlier than my 30s. I wish I had learned the difference between need and want sooner. I have tried too hard to fulfill wants as if they were needs. The want vacuum just moves, it doesn...

Review Part Two of Voices of the True Woman Movement A Call to the Counter-Revolution

It is a glorious day in Kentucky. The humidity is gone. Mornings are crisp, evenings cool and it is toasty warm during the day. This morning I sat out on my front porch enjoying the birds, flowers and gentle breeze. I took with me an outstanding cup of Colombian coffee and my Voices of the True Woman Movement book. Before I started reading I took a moment to think about my stereotypical idea of the perfect Christian woman. In my mind she is perfectly dressed, perfectly coiffed, and demure. She speaks in dulcet tones and only when she has something encouraging to say. There is no doubt that her make-up is the perfect shade and she uses just enough to allow her to radiate a pleasing angelic glow. Her nails are manicured. Her feet are Barbie-like. She is Jackie O and June Cleaver combined with an encyclopedic knowledge of Scripture and a repertoire that includes a series of perfectly timed, perfectly targeted encouragement statements. She and I look nothing alike. As I inventor...

rambling rosemarie

Search This Blog