11 thoughts on “The Watering Hole: January 14 — Crocodile’s Toothache

  1. Why Are Liberals So Timid?

    After the last administration and the greatest financial meltdown this country has seen since the Great Depression the only movement that has any pulse whatsoever is a bunch of anarchists parading under the banner of “Teabaggers.”

    What’s the Matter With Democrats?

    Surveys consistently show that Americans agree more with Democrats than Republicans on major issues facing our country. And if it accomplished nothing else, the George W. Bush administration proved that Democrats can govern more effectively than Republicans.

    So why do Democrats lose way more elections than they should? And why do those Democrats who do win struggle to consolidate their holds on political power?

    I found these two similarly themed articles this morning, the first was on Mike’s Blog Roundup at C&L, and I check the Legal Schnauzer semi-regularly because he’s in my state. Both give insight to a subject we progressives need to address, and soon, before our concerns are swept aside for another thirty years, or forever.

    • I heard just a bit of Thom Hartmann’s show on the radio today. He was listing the disgusting way Bush handled the Katrina disaster day by day — before being amazed that he was being asked to assist in Haiti relief.

      Thom opined that Bush was going to have to deal with sibling rivalry issues with Clinton. 😆

  2. I would have thought more folks would recognize the name Shel Silverstein, since his work only appeared in Playboy from 1956 until 1998.

    Excerpts from his Wikipedia biography:

    He wrote the music and lyrics for “A Boy Named Sue” (which was performed by Johnny Cash and for which Silverstein won a Grammy in 1970), Tompall Glaser’s highest-charting solo single “Put Another Log on the Fire,” “One’s on the Way” (which was a hit for Loretta Lynn), and “The Unicorn” (which became the signature piece for the Irish Rovers in 1968).

    He wrote the lyrics and music for most of the Dr. Hook & The Medicine Show songs, including “The Cover of the Rolling Stone”, “Freakin’ at the Freakers’ Ball,” “Sylvia’s Mother”, “The Things I Didn’t Say” and a cautionary song about venereal disease, “Don’t Give a Dose to the One You Love Most”.
    He also wrote many of the songs performed by Bobby Bare, including “Rosalie’s Good Eats Café”, “The Mermaid”, “The Winner”, “Tequila Sheila”, and co-wrote with Baxter Taylor the song “Marie Laveau”, for which the songwriters received a BMI Award in 1975. “The Mermaid” was also covered in 2005 by Great Big Sea, which released its version on the album The Hard and the Easy.
    Further famous songs that Shel Silverstein wrote were “The Ballad of Lucy Jordan”, (first recorded by Dr. Hook & The Medicine Show in 1975) which was re-recorded in 1979 by Marianne Faithfull and in 1996 by Belinda Carlisle and later featured in the films Montenegro and Thelma & Louise and “Queen of the Silver Dollar”, first recorded by Dr. Hook and the Medicine Show (on their 1972 album Sloppy Seconds), and later by Doyle Holly (on his 1973 album Doyle Holly), Emmylou Harris (on her 1975 album Pieces of the Sky) and Dave & Sugar (on their 1976 album Dave & Sugar).
    Shel was nominated for an Oscar and a Golden Globe for his song “I’m Checkin’ Out” for the film Postcards from the Edge.
    Silverstein also wrote “In the Hills of Shiloh”, a very poignant song about the aftermath of the Civil War, which was recorded by The New Christy Minstrels, Judy Collins and Bobby Bare, among others.

    The soundtrack of the 1970 film Ned Kelly is composed of Silverstein’s songs, performed by Waylon Jennings and Kris Kristofferson among others.

    Silverstein also had a popular following on Dr. Demento’s radio show. Among his best-known comedy songs were “Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout (Would Not Take The Garbage Out)”, “The Smoke-Off” (a tale of a contest to determine who could roll—or smoke—marijuana joints faster), “I Got Stoned and I Missed It”, and “Bury Me in My Shades”.

  3. All I saw were the humor pieces in Playboy, some of which were songs. I liked his work and the stories of Jean Shepherd, and Dan Jenkins. Yes there really was stuff in Playboy besides the girls!
    The first political reading I ever did was the first amendment, pro-choice and civil rights/gay rights articles in Playboys over the years.

  4. Jean Shepherd and Silverstein were good friends.

    The brilliance of both has brought great reads.

    Shep’s:

    ‘Wanda Hickey’s Golden Night of Memories, and Other Disasters’.

    ‘In God We Trust; All Others Pay Cash’

    ———–
    Anteater by Shel Silverstein

    “A genuine anteater,”
    The pet man told me dad.
    Turned out, it was an aunt eater,
    And now my uncle’s mad!
    —–
    Boa Constrictor by Shel Silverstein

    Oh, I’m being eaten
    By a boa constrictor,
    A boa constrictor,
    A boa constrictor,
    I’m being eaten by a boa constrictor,
    And I don’t like it–one bit.
    Well, what do you know?
    It’s nibblin’ my toe.
    Oh, gee,
    It’s up to my knee.
    Oh my,
    It’s up to my thigh.
    Oh, fiddle,
    It’s up to my middle.
    Oh, heck,
    It’s up to my neck.
    Oh, dread,
    It’s upmmmmmmmmmmffffffffff . . .”

  5. Shel Silverstein, eh? I like this:

    Horace

    Much to his Mum and Dad’s dismay
    Horace ate himself one day.
    He didn’t stop to say his grace,
    He just sat down and ate his face.
    “We can’t have this his Dad declared,
    “If that lad’s ate, he should be shared.”
    But even as he spoke they saw
    Horace eating more and more:
    First his legs and then his thighs,
    His arms, his nose, his hair, his eyes…
    “Stop him someone!” Mother cried
    “Those eyeballs would be better fried!”
    But all too late, for they were gone,
    And he had started on his dong…
    “Oh! foolish child!” the father mourns
    “You could have deep-fried that with prawns,
    Some parsley and some tartar sauce…”
    But H. was on his second course:
    His liver and his lights and lung,
    His ears, his neck, his chin, his tongue;
    “To think I raised him from the cot
    And now he’s going to scoff the lot!”
    His Mother cried: “What shall we do?
    What’s left won’t even make a stew…”
    And as she wept, her son was seen
    To eat his head, his heart, his spleen.
    And there he lay: a boy no more,
    Just a stomach, on the floor…
    None the less, since it was his
    They ate it – that’s what haggis is.

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