Well, dear readers, I am sitting here like so much fish, listening to the marvelously marvelous Fall River Legend ballet by Morton Gould – it’s pure gold, this Gould. Gould gold. I’m a big fan of Morton Gould, a very underrated composer who also did a series of easy listening albums of music by others that I loved as a kid, as well as brilliantly conducting wonderful classical works with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra. I have two recordings of Fall River Legend in Music – the one I’m listening to, Howard Hanson conducting in Mercury stereo, and Joseph Levine conducting in mono, part of a series of American ballets that Levine conducted for Capitol record in the 1950s – if you don’t have those albums, I think they’re all findable on the Tube of You. Earlier, I did manage to watch a motion picture I’d never seen, the 1950 crime meller called 711 Ocean Drive, starring Edmond O’Brien and Joanne Dru, directed by Joseph M. Newman, a workmanlike director. Much of it is shot in Los Angeles and Palm Springs and the finale takes place at Boulder Dam. I don’t recall there ever being an address shown on screen that says 711 Ocean Drive. There are some nice LA shots, though. It’s a decent film that goes on about ten minutes too long, something we’ve all been guilty of, don’t you think? For example, these here notes have already gone on ten minutes too long and I’ve only been writing them for two minutes and I haven’t even scratched the surface. Correction: I just scratched the surface of the table – it was fun. I recommend that everyone scratch the surface right now. Prior to the movie, I got only about five or six hours of sleep, arising at nine. I spent most of the day doing the show order and writing the commentary. For food, I had tacos from the good Mexican jernt nearby and they were fine. Later, for a snack, I had some honey-roasted almonds, some cashews, and some Chicken in a Biskit crackers. So, calorie-wise it was all fine. Then I watched the movie, we did the rehearsal schedule and so that can go out now. Then as I was scrolling back through my desktop folder to get to the Notes template, I came upon a What If that I had no memory of – a lost What If. We did it once at a Kritzerland show a decade ago, but it’s filed under its title rather than with the other What If parodies. I had to laugh out loud when I read it – it’s pretty amusing and I think we’ll resurrect it for our anniversary show in September. I’ll share it now with you: What if, instead of writing Cabaret, Kander and Ebb had written Gypsy? And it goes something like this (even though it’s instantly obvious – to the tune of Don’t Tell Mama):
Mama, really thinks I have no talent,
And because I have no talent
I’m the back end of a cow.
Mama, doesn’t even have an inkling,
That I have the kind of talent
That she never would allow.
So, please sir, if you run into my mama,
Don’t reveal my little secret,
Let me entertain you now…
Hush up, don’t tell mama,
Shush up, don’t tell mama,
Don’t tell mama, whatever you do.
If she sees this Gypsy
Do her little strip, see,
She’ll sing Rose’s Turn, it’s true!
But here’s the one thing that we can determine,
If she finds out, she’ll start to sing like Ethel Merman!
So, let’s not have that drama,
Keep this from my mama,
Though my strip is not against the law.
You can go tell Yonkers, that’s all right,
‘Cause he’s here watching every night…
But don’t tell mama what you saw!
Mama, thinks I’m helping with the costumes,
And that maybe I’ll say lines for
A comic in this burlesque.
Mama, never thought I’d take my clothes off,
So, let’s keep it very quiet,
And she’ll never have a clue.
So please sir, if you run into my mama,
Don’t reveal my indiscretion,
I’ll sing out Louise for you…
Hush up, don’t tell mama,
Shush up, don’t tell mama,
Don’t tell mama, and we’ll have a ball.
When you see me bump it
I won’t need a trumpet,
It’s a small world after all.
But if you go and tell her I’m a stripper
You’ll never get to see me go unzip my zipper!
So, let’s trust one another,
Keep this from my mother,
Though I’m still as pure as pure can be.
You can go tell Herbie here and now,
‘Cause he’s my agent anyhow,
But don’t tell mama what you see.
You can go tell June, she might say “Oh!”
But then she might just join the show,
So, don’t tell mama or she’ll blow.
You can go tell Tulsa, that’s okay,
Because we all know Tulsa’s gay,
But don’t tell mama, no sir,
Don’t tell mama, please sir,
Don’t tell mama what you know…
If you see my mama, mum’s the word!
Glad I found it. I wonder what other interesting things I might find if I actually opened documents.
Today, I’ll be up by eleven, I had a 50% off coupon for UberEats, so I’ve already ordered food to arrive at noon o’clock – a pastrami sandwich with coleslaw and Russian dressing and a cucumber salad for my included side – from Daughter’s Deli. At one, we begin what I’m sure will be a two-hour work session. Whatever it is, it is. After that, I’m not doing anything but relaxing, and if I need any kind of snack, I have the honey-roasted almonds and some cashews left. Then I can watch, listen, and relax.
Tomorrow and Sunday can now be complete and total ME days and boy do I need them. I haven’t been to the mail place in almost a week, so I’ll mosey on over there and see what’s what, but mostly I’ll be watching movies and listening to music and relaxing. Then Monday, I’ll try to have the piano tuned – it’s only been two years – and then we have our first Kritzerland rehearsal on Tuesday.
Well, dear readers, I must take the day, I must do the things I do, I must, for example, be up by eleven, have a sandwich at noon o’clock, have a two-hour or whatever work session, then watch, listen, and relax. Today’s topic of discussion: It’s Friday – what is currently in your CD player and your DVD/Blu and Ray/streaming player? I’ll start – CD, Morton Gould. Streaming, not sure. Your turn. Let’s have loads of lovely postings, shall we, whilst I hit the road to dreamland, happy to have found the lost What If.