Word Count

Tuesday, November 13, 2007

Soul Mates

When I was a kid, I wanted to grow up and marry a country singer. Specifically: Johnny Horton. It wasn't until I about 9 or 10 I even realize the man was DEAD and had been for 15 years prior to me showing up.

My luck entirely. I find my soul mate and he's dead.

Johnny Horton started my fascination with voices, though. My Dad's got the gruff somber Johnny Cash voice; and we all know what a sucker I am for Alan Rickman. Johnny Horton's got a voice to fall in love with. Deep, smooth, but within its cadence, a happy-go-lucky, wouldn't-we-have-fun tone that makes me want to ride around in a convertible with him and laugh.

My favorite ballad by him is called Miss Marcy. I *cannot* find the lyrics anywhere, but I remember being moved by the story as a kid. It's about a boy named Billy who's asked to recount what happened at the mill the night before (there was a dance)--and apparently Miss Marcy, who was his step-mom, was dancing a bit too close to "Uncle Will" and Billy's father killed or injured like three or four people. I'm trying to remember if he killed himself and Marcy too?--it was a DARK song, but boy, when I was 11, I knew EVERY word. *LOL*

My other favorite ballad by him: They'll Never Ever Take Her Love From Me. Difficult to find lyrics, but not totally impossible.

If today the sun should set on all my hopes and cares
There is one who's smiling face the Gods would see
Cause she'll walk along beside me up to golden stairs
Oh they'll never ever take her love from me
What a fool I was to go and break the trust she gave
And to see her love turn into sympathy
It's the one regret I'll carry with me to my grave
Oh they'll never ever take her love from me
[ strings ]
I'm so thankful for each golden hour of happiness
That we shared together in the used to be
Someone else's arms may hold her now in uncaress
But they'll never ever take her love from me
I thought I'd make her happy if I'd step aside
But I knew her love would never set me free
Even on the day that she became another's bride
Oh they'll never never take her love from me

Tuesday, November 06, 2007

Hellion Clothed


Ignore my hair. I didn't have a hat. But the duds are ones I sewed. I wish you could have seen the accessories: cat-o-nines, sword, gun (with real sound effects). I still need a hat. *sighs* But I'm not paying those prices for one! I'm not the only pirate on the internet.

Thursday, November 01, 2007

Post Halloween Highlights

I went to Pam & Chris' house to hang out Halloween night. I slurped down a bowl of hot and sour soup and had just settled in for some lo mein when the doorbell rang. The first trick or treater!

Chris has already spent time laughing at us because Pam and I had seen a little Harry Potter roaming the back street behind her house. Between houses we could catch glimpses of his red and gold scarf. We bounced around, squealing like we had seen glimpses of Brad Pitt.

Between the hours of 6 and 8, there must have been at least 50 trick or treaters. While some folks might find this a low turn out, I hail from the country--and we never got trick or treaters. I've never seen so many costumed children since I was in grade school.

Harry stopped by, and I squealed about him then. He did not seem nearly as excited to see me.

There was a young bride, no more than 6 years, her father standing quietly at the back of the yard. Her pretty blonde hair was scraped back with a white rose headband/veil, and her lovely bridal gown swept the sidewalk. Very beautiful, very bridal. Wow, I thought, her father must have broke out in hives seeing her in this outfit. It was a very Father of the Bride moment.

A little later, a trio of trick-or-treaters came up. One as a princess; one as Spongebob Squarepants (clever paint job on a box), and the cutest of all, a farmer boy with overalls and a hat, "driving" a John Deer tractor (a box also cleverly painted) that hung from black straps on his shoulders.

The trickiest costume I saw was a 1940s bomber pilot. All of 7, he wore a miniature bomber jacket and one of those skull caps of the era with goggles on his head. He wore a bomber single-engine plane, painted a sort of grayish-green army color around his waist. I think his father spent a lot of time working on that. He looked extremely authentic. He nearly had an accident trying to turn his plane around on the tiny concrete porch and navigate down the stairs again.

Easily the trick-or-treater we enjoyed most was the little pirate who couldn't be more than 4. He was bold for his age--after an entire evening of very shy children who seemed very confused by this ritual of free candy--and he swaggered up in his red and white striped trousers, a red skull cap on his head, a 12-in plastic sword waving fiercesomely, and a twinkle in his eye. He arrived with a group of less confident children, and as Chris calmly told all the children to take one piece of candy, Little Jack reached in with one hand, snagged a piece, then with a gimlet stare right at Chris, snagged a second piece with his other hand. We adults all sucked in a breath at this disobedience of Candy Courtesy. Then Jack grinned roguishly, spun on one heel, and leaped off the porch like a pirate swinging from one ship back to the other. He waved his sword maniacally, screaming as he ran down the walk: "I got it! I got it!"

Back in the house, we looked at Chris: "You just got pillaged, mate."

Happy Halloween all. Any good trick or treater stories where you lived?