This past Labor Day I woke up with a song dancing around
in my head.
You know how that happens. . .
A tune gets caught in the cogs of your mind and no matter what else you're doing or thinking about, the damned song haunts you all day long. You know what I'm talking about.
The song I woke with was "Ukulele Lady", published back in 1925 by Richard Whiting & Gus Kahn. . .
on Honolulu Bay. . ."
Well, a couple of hours later, after I'd had my 2 cups of morning coffee, the tune was still with me. . .
they love to sing this song. . ."
I jumped in the shower, gave my head a good soak and the record just kept on playing. . .
If you like to linger where it's shady,
Ukulele Lady linger too. . ."
I knew right then there was no getting away from it so I surrendered and decided that being afflicted with a corny tune was as good a reason to take the day off as any.
No Monday thing at the BluePaper, no working the phones, no billing, no nothing. . .
ever to be true; And she sees another Ukulele Lady
foolin' 'round with you. . ."
exactly that; walked.
Whilst walking and feeding Florida's State Bird (the mosquito) with gallons of my blood, my mind began wandering as I wanted it too and it always does when I go walk-about.
And it hovered around school daze. . .
When I was a kid (all those hundreds of years ago), the most Labor Day meant to me was that in two more days school would start. I always thought it was cool that the first week of school was only 3 days long and imagined it was so the nuns could get used to wearing their scratchy habits again after dancing around naked all summer.
where the tricky wicky wacky woo;
If you like Ukulele Lady, Ukulele Lady like a'you. . ."
But the first 3 day week of school was cool for us kids.
I mean, it sucked having to get back in long pants, long sleeved shirts buttoned up to the collar and those really sad embroidered clip-on ties but at least, for those first 3 days, we didn't have to do any real school work.
Those 3 days were spent calling role, being assigned classrooms, distributing books, getting to know who your new pain in the ass teacher was gonna be and sitting in assembly for a new school year pep-talk from the monsignor.
Fond memories cling to me by moonlight,
although I'm far away..."
and hear the song I miss. . ."
All the same, I was good at it. (my parents would have nothing other) But then, about 6th or 7th grade, along came RoseAnne Dechelli. My adolescent testosterone went through the roof, my grades were like "who gives a sh*t" and I turned into the juvenile delinquent I still am to this day.
(". . .and maybe not")
I never out-paced that damned song.
". . .Ukulele Lady like a'you. . . . . . . . "