Poly-Ticks and Strange Bed-Fellows by R Cane

Poly-Ticks and Strange Bed-Fellows

Run up the Hill

Run up the Dale

Run all around Town

All to no avail

We did all we could

Even went thru the woods

Found a lot of nothing

and that was no good

We went all around

all the ups' n the downs

Chasin' our tails

'round crazy fake trails

We then went through hell

a time or two

yet nothing happened

we swear it's true !

Now a few went Red

And more went Blue

Made crazy bed-fellows

and a weirdo crew

Whiskey and Bourbon

Smokin' cigars

in smokey back rooms

dark smoky deals are ..

… made in the shade ..

.. but we're kept in the dark

sometimes with 'snark'

Freedom at play

Danger they say ..

All tantrums and bullying

if he don’t get his way ..

well we did all we can

but it was no good

Shut'er down Clancy ..

She's-a-pump-in M-U-D !

VOTE!

* * *

BB 8-29-20 

O M L ! by R Cane

O M L ! 

or 

Archie's Bunker & the

Pandemic March 

 roughly to the tune of 'Glory Glory Hallelujah'  – G 

A crazy novel virus  is under detection

Starting the spread – of a dreaded new infection

Contagion is rampant –  yet no vaccine injections !?

O-h-h-h My ! – LORD !?!

Chorus
I've got a hankerin'  – to hunker in a bunker... 
I've got a hankerin'  – to hunker in a bunker...
I've got a hankerin'  – to hunker in a bunker...
O-h-h-h My ! – LORD !?!

Social distancing – new forms of not dancing
just wearing masks - has folks all askance-ing 
Germ laden  microbial stew – bio-soup for you !

O-h-h-h My ! – LORD !?!

Door knobs – chairs – banisters 'n stairs 

Coughs and sneezes -- filling all the airs 

Don't touch anything --- anywhere !!

O-h-h-h My ! – LORD !?!

Phones and devices – are potentially lethal

Parties and bars are dangerous equally

Hiv - mers - sars - this is a worst sequel 

O-h-h-h My ! – LORD !?!

Everyone look – we're gonna quarantine !

To avoid those bugs – that attack us deadly and unseen

The whole dang thing - is such a terribly bad dream 

O-h-h-h My ! – LORD !?!

Times so bad – poor 'n old folks just can't win

Dyin' like fly's – it's a downright sin

Churches are closed - the gov'mints worn thin

O-h-h-h My ! – LORD !?!

Neither church - nor state - has workable schemes

to save my job or house – or my gizzard or my spleen!
What a dystopian nightmare - and desolate scene

O-h-h-h My ! – LORD !?!

Alas this is something you just cant shoot away or knife 

It's bigger than bullets and all the money or your life

Is the 2^nd amendment - keeping you healthy tonight?

O-h-h-h My ! – LORD !?!

Nurses, First Responders, and our Fearless Physicians 
Are all Glorious HERO's - but in a terrible position 
In this  Battle of survival there's no damn ammunition !?
O-h-h-h My ! – LORD !?!

So what ever happened - to all the dang tests?
China made some - seems others got the rest 
But we are sucking hind teat - and just trying to do our best
O-h-h-h My ! – LORD !?!

We hope some day - that there will be a cure
Vaccines & inoculations - oughta fix us up for sure
But a 30 day lock down -  or we all go down the sewer  !
O-h-h-h My ! – LORD !?!

A  30 day lock down - is the only solution
If the bug is denied hosts - it just dies in the confusion !!
So get busy labs -  get us out of this seclusion !!
O-h-h-h My ! – LORD !?!

Bill Gates told us -  it's a new kind of war !
So lets draft him or someone -- as a new 'VIRUS CZAR' !?!
Bill's influential -  this virus exponential
O-h-h-h My ! – LORD !?!

For 30 solid days - we should all stay alone
Stir crazy prisoners - bored in our own homes
No matter what we wish - we are not allowed to roam
O-h-h-h My ! – LORD !?!

If we deny this bug - its desperate last stand then
Soon  great rejoicing will ring -  ALL throughout the lands
Because we  EACH FLEW SOLO  and yes,  WASHED OUR HANDS  !!

O-h-h-h My.....   LORD !?!

Chorus
I've got a hankerin' – to hunker in a bunker...    (3 times) 
O-h-h-h My ! – LORD !?!

                      Parody - Copyright  R. Bigelow 2020

Jesus died to save our sins- glory be - we might need him again ! 

                                   (The Weavers )

Blame it on the Banjo's 2 songs by Anno Nymus

Blame it on the Banjos

Banjo from the mountains

banjo from the city

make a big racket

but they sure sound pretty !

Tater bug mando's – and fiddles so bold

hollers and yells – ancient riddles re-told

ballads of truth - and stories of old

all riches greater than any silver or gold

* * *

Honky Tonks 'n Saturday Nights

Honky Tonk brawls 'n Saturday Nights

go to church Sunday – to set things right

Your good suit on – as you go to meetin'

'cause the tonk makes you foolish

But the church gives it meaning !

you end scuffed up

and just a little heart-broke

all your dough has gone up

in the proverbial smoke

one step forward – 2 steps back - bit ...

… by that “black dog” freight

train - coming at you ...

… down the same ol' tracks

* * *

Motoring

The blustery and windy road

short and winding along it's way

the powerful smell of new mown hay

the pungent aroma of orange 
blossoms so fragrant and special

and vistas unfolding all along the way

chorus

Motoring Motoring

Flying in the wind

Motoring Motoring

Driving in the rain

Motoring Motoring

Rubber wheels rolling on

take me from here

and let me - roll me - and move me - on down the line

* * *

Original Songs – Copyright R. Bigelow 2019

Kings Mountain Wild Ride - (a true story) by Anno Nymus

Kings Mountain Wild Ride

 The trees whizzed by close – we even caught a branch …

… heading down to town that night – from Kings Mountain Ranch ...

The '52 Merc' purred – like a fine Swiss watch

zig-zag'n down the winding deserted mountain road

12 tubes blasting country - on the old Philco

Lefty Frizzel just a moaning so low

We were young and ready – and rearing to roll

Twisty mountain road – pines flyin' by at night

Cruising along everything's just right

Suddenly she turns out the headlights

'n said 'drive in the dark!' – that got me excited

So we coast awhile in neutral – almost lost in the dark

Thrilled with excitement and our youthful spark

We have to take the curves with all our might

Rolling blind down the mountain – in the dead of night

While we swerve and bob - and hold back our terrors

Lefty's gal is really late -- and he's avoiding mirrors

Flyin' by memory in the deep forest dark

The old mercury rolled on – as we went on this lark

We were young and ready – and rearing to roll

The city lights blinking down below – our beacon and goal

We sparked the motor back up – she lit with a roar

Winding down the mountain --- still holding the road

She purrs and hums like that fine Swiss watch

And that old '52 Merc' – sure was a hoss

Bringing us in on a wing and a prayer

She took all we gave and thirsted for more

These were the days of glory and fun

Our wild Kings Mountain Ranch run

We'd fly down to town .. and get business done ..

Then we'd race back up

To the ranch in the sun

Another - wild Kings Mountain Ranch run

We were young and ready – and rearing to roll

We were young --we were invincible

Free to glide – and we would ride ride ride …

Into the night – laughing – gliding side by side

We were young and ready – and rearing to roll

The trees whizzed close by – we even caught a branch …

… heading down to town that night – from Kings Mountain Ranch ...

* * *

Copyright 2019 R. Bigelow (aka Anno Nymus)

This actually happened in 1954

Uncles Jerry, Mickey, and Charles (all freshly home from Korea), and Charles' fiance Linda, would often go from our place called 'The Sky Ranch' at the top of Kings Mountain, down to the little village at the bottom. They loved to use the twisty narrow two lane back road, and blast county music on the deluxe car radio. Most of the way down it was piney hill on one side, and creek on the other. Two cars could just get by, and if it was a car and truck, then someone was backing up to a wide spot. It was a classic old time mountain road. 

The uncles all famously loved to 'coast' down this windy road in Charles'  gorgeous and souped up 1952 Blue and White Mercury with fender skirts. It gleamed!  One night, I got to sneak a ride going on quick run to town and back. Grandma relented because Linda was going, even though the uncles each had a few cold brewskies under the belt. Loaded up we headed out. Pretty soon - as advertised - we were coasting in neutral to everyone's delight, when suddenly, Linda reached over and turned out the headlights - daring Charles to keep going!. It was pitch dark, and everyone sat straight up !

Charlie was driving. He had driven this road many many times, and somehow - between memory and good luck - he was pretty much holding the road - but the downhill grade was causing us to pick up speed faster and faster,  as we coasted, until it was getting pretty scary fast. We were all hollering to 'turn on the lights!', and 'start the engine!' and 'put it in gear and quit coasting!' in between squeals of excitement -- along with the squeals of the tires! Now we were really picking up speed, and barely making the hairpin turns. We were really skewing off the roadway at points! At one turn as we swerved under a tree,  the tip of a low hanging pine branch caught in the corner of the window, and we got showered with a few pine needles. Scared a bit, we suddenly got very quiet -  all you could hear was the radio!

Just then, the engine roared to life, the headlights came on, and everyone let their breath out, then busted out laughing !  I was revved up, and wanting to do it again, but alas,  I never did get another shot. After grandmother heard about this ride, I was banned from riding with the uncles - unless granddad was driving. 
I can almost smell the pine needles remembering ! But wow -- what a memorable wild crazy fun ride ! 

end

Happy Places two poems by Anno Nymus

Happy Places

2 poems by Anno Nymus

*

Deep Riverside Nights

Orange groves jasmine

magnolias and french roast

A little wine

the full moon

open convertible

and the gulf coast

Cali delights

riverside nights

burnt orange hills

sweet orange groves

in the dead of night

aromas of jasmine and

orange blossoms

so strong it could lift you

the wind so soft n warm

it drifts too

far into the senses

cruising at night

Riverside in orange season

at night convertible cruising

thru the orange groves

grooving and moving

Contentment

* * *

French Roast and the Texas Coast

Frenchy's Roost

Galveston Yuppie Cafe

Strong french roast

and the best french toast

but

not Belgian - 'Bulging' waffles

how great - how waffle ?

Hmmm butter ?

off ... ?

not ! … asking

question syrupy

jus' murmur …

damn damn best damn

on the gulf – waffle – period

scents arise

magnolias jasmine and rich java orange

vanilla wafts from around the waitress

french roast 'n Frenchy's toasty

bulging waffle

Happiness

* * *

copyright 2010 R. Bigelow

Choices by Anno Nymus

Choices

Back then …

you picked your side …

the Yin-Yang of social norms …

and so it was either …

Coke or Pepsi
Corn Flakes or Oatmeal
Stones or Beatles
Ford or Chevy
Donkey or Elephant

Greaser or Surfer
Jock or Preppie
Hard Rock or Folk
Country or Bluegrass
Pro-Life or Pro-Choice
Should I Stay or Should I Go
Mornings or Nights
Martin or Gibson
Go Solo or Form a Band

Shoes or Sandals
Suit or Tie-Dye
Longhair or Shorn
Brogans or Flip-Flops
OP's or 3 Piece Suit
'Sex,Drugs,'and Rock & Roll' or any Alternatives
Communes or Bible thumping
Straight or Else
Woodstock or Altamont
Pall Mall or Camels
Kool or Winston
Marlboro or Chesterfield

Pie or Cake
Milk or Soda
Taco or Burrito
Granola or Omelet
Burgers or Hot Dogs
Won Ton or Egg Flower
to Sushi or Not

Dodgers or Yankees
NYT or WSJ
McD or BK
Sizzler or Ryan’s
Mom's Fried Chicken or KFC
Progress or Congress

Slapstick or Puns
Writin' or Readin'
Limericks or Lyrics
Country or Classical
Highbrow or Lowbrow
Folk Music or Broadway
Sports or Library

Polio Vaccine or Iron Lung
Gamma Globulin or Jungle Rot
Life or Death
Birth or Abortion
Orphanages or Throw Away Kids

War or Peace
Vietnam or Marching
Segregation or Marching
Death Penalty or Marching
Womens' Rights or Marching
Equal Rights or Marching
Peoples Park or Marching
Black Panthers or KKK
Marching For or Marching Against

Macro or Micro
IBM or Pencil
Slide Rule or Pencil
Typewriter or Pencil
Analog or Digital
Apple or Microsoft
Steve Jobs or Bill Gates
Mac-rosoft & Micro-apple

California or Arizona
Hollywood or Tucson
Palo Alto or Tucson
Tucson or Mexico City
Mexico City or Cuernavaca
Saguaro Monument or Colossal Cave
Saguaro Corners or 17 mile drive
Cochise or Erle Stanley Gardner
Horses or Pickup's
Regular or High Test
Self Service Gas Station or Full Service Gas Station
Odd license day or Even license day

Cafes or Diners
Tea or Coffee
Toast or Fruit
White or Wheat
Wet or Dry
Jack D or Jim B
Hatfield's or McCoy's
Bubble Up or 7 Up
Wine or Beer
Less Filling or More Taste

Diploma or GED
College or Trades
White Collar or Blue Collar
Management or Labor
Stanford or Harvard
College or Draft
College or Vietnam
Air Force or Marines

S.F. or NYC
Berkeley or Boston
East Coast or West Coast
LA Rams or Baltimore Colts
Palo Alto or Philadelphia

Black or White
B/W or Color
White or Wheat
Black or Cream 'n Sugar
Black Hat or White Hat
'Black 'n White' or Color
White As Light or Black As Night
Segregation or Integration

Honky Tonk Saturday Nights or Sunday Morning Go to Meeting
One Gets You Stabbed or The Other Gives You Meaning

… and so it went – and so it goes …
* * * *

Copyright 2019 R. Bigelow (aka Anno Nymus)

The Road To Tucson - Part 2 of 2 by KimB

First time travelers in the desert learned really fast that you don't travel by day. After about 10 AM the heat becomes really noticeable and shortly there-after you'd wished you had stopped at that seedy little motor court you sneered at as you passed it by. And with no other hamlets within hours and hours, you learned and burned your way to the next wide-spot-in-the-road and headed to whatever accommodations you could get, no questions asked, and hoped for at least a swamp-cooler to temper the desert's wrath.

Evenings were for travel, and at sundown the roads would fill up with savvy travelers heading farther and farther into the the desert. The temperature of the desert would plummet as the sun faded away and driving would be enjoyable. You couldn't see much but at least you could be comfortable while heading to your destination.

Our car had a radio but out of the main cities there was no reception. The shot-gun-seat rider would often turn the knobs vainly looking for something to listen too, but generally, only static was found. We found our own entertainments, watching license plates, counting box cars in passing freight trains, animal-vegetable-mineral guessing games and other amusements.

But most often we sang songs for the long hours of driving the highway. We knew lots of them and we each took turns suggesting a song and then we would sing it – all three of us. We would sing the same song multiple times as we practiced to get it “just right” or “what was that phrase again?” or “remind me, how does that go?”. The longer the song the better – all 9,000 verses of Barbara Allen was a favorite. If we muffed a verse we started over “from the top” to get things in the proper order. Later on, my personal repertory of songs was large enough to entertain drivers for 3 days without repeating a one - unless requested of course.

My brother often wrote his own songs and we all enthusiastically helped sing them as we traveled the highway. Sometimes we had a collaboration: Mom, me and my brother would work out a song together; topics, phrases, melodies would be reviewed and best lines chosen and we would sing the resulting song for hours but many of these faded away with the sunrise. A few lasted and became staples along with the English muffins. We sang them each time we traveled the road and laughed about our adventures as we headed towards the horizon and Grandma's Cafe.

Grandma's Cafe
[to the tune of Botany Bay]

It's not leaving Los Angeles we care about,
Or driving the highway all day,
It's the blooming monotony that wears us out,
And the prospects of Grandma's Cafe.

[Editor's note: This story was written by KimB and is part 2 of a 2 part series.]