92/365 Private Idaho

I first saw the B-52’s on Saturday Night Live. I don’t remember what they performed, but it was probably “Rock Lobster.” At first, I thought it was a joke—I expected one of the chicks to be a wigged Laraine Newman. Pretty soon, though, it became clear that they were for real.

Now that it’s spring again, I can’t stop playing them. There’s a part of me that feels like I was born to be in a band like this, singing songs like this, that I missed my calling.

I love trying to dig meaning out of this wild potato of a song.

Keep off the path, beware the gate,
watch out for signs that say “hidden driveways.”
Don’t let the chlorine in your eyes
blind you to the awful surprise
that’s waitin’ for you at
the bottom of the bottomless blue blue blue pool.

91/365 Don’t Stand So Close to Me

Seriously. Someone might call the Police.

90/365 Colors of the Wind

I’m really enjoying it. It’s the gayest show on television. Maybe the gayest thing EVER. Gayer than Liberace giving a hand job to Paul Lynde. Gayer than Judy Garland singing a duet with Richard Simmons. Gayer than me singing “Colors of the Wind” at Walt Disney World.

—Sewa Yoleme, yesterday in an e-mail, on Ugly Betty

Sometime soon after the turn of the century (2002? SY, please help me remember), Sewa Yoleme and I took a five-day trip to Disney World and did all the parks. Believe me, if you’re going to drop yourself into some serious kitsch, it makes sense to go with a gay guy.

On some tram, somewhere, “Colors of the Wind” began to play. (Does this mean we were in the Magic Kingdom? I’m thinking yes.) Yoleme broke into song. He knew every freakin’ word.

“You are so gay,” I told him, shrinking into-ish the slippery tram bench.

As long as he was reminding me of the incident, I decided to look up the lyrics. I’ve never actually seen Pocohantas. The only thing I really know about the movie is that she’s the cartoon character men seem to want to do. (Insert obvious discussion here.)

The lyrics, it turns out, are so indicative of Sewa Yoleme’s shamanesque personality, I can no longer blame him for belting it out like a theme song.

Have you ever heard the wolf cry to the blue corn moon
Or asked the grinning bobcat why he grinned?
Can you sing with all the voices of the mountains?
Can you paint with all the colors of the wind?
Can you paint with all the colors of the wind?
Come run the hidden pine trails of the forest
Come taste the sunsweet berries of the Earth
Come roll in all the riches all around you
And for once, never wonder what they’re worth
The rainstorm and the river are my brothers
The heron and the otter are my friends
And we are all connected to each other
In a circle, in a hoop that never ends

Is it synchronicity that he should mention this song yesterday, the day a—nay, the—Queen was visiting Jamestown?

89/365 Burning Down the House

They sure loved this Talking Heads song in the ’burbs of Chicago back in the eighties. So did I. My first night out, I got asked to dance. I was too shy and not drunk enough to say yes at that moment, and I’m convinced the guy thought I was a snob. I mean, how else could someone not dance?

My house s’out of the ordinary
That’s right don’t want to hurt nobody
Some things sure can sweep me off my feet
Burning down the house

88/365 I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles)

OK, OK. It’s kinda pop. But I love this Proclaimers’ song. Ten summers ago, I threw Sunshine on Leith into the tape deck of a rental car in Scotland and drove with the windows wide open. Thrills.

But I would walk 500 miles
And I would walk 500 more
Just to be the man who walked a thousand miles
To fall down at your door

87/365 Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered

According to today’s Writer’s Almanac, it’s the birthday of Lorenz Hart, lyricist of that killer team Rodgers and Hart. Perhaps my favorite Rodgers and Hart song is “My Funny Valentine,” but I’ve already blogged that. Helen’s recently done “Blue Moon” as part of her intriguing moon series. So the song for the day is “Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered.” Whenever you hear this song today, scream real loud!

Ella Fitzgerald does a lovely abbreviated cover here.

I’m wild again, beguiled again…

86/365 The Lusty Month of May

Wishing everyone a festive Beltane with this song by Lerner and Loewe.

Tra la, it’s May, the lusty month of May
That lovely month when everyone goes blissfully astray
Tra la, it’s here, that shocking time of year
When tons of wicked little thoughts merrily appear

It’s May, it’s May, that gorgeous holiday
When every maiden prays that her lad will be a cad
It’s mad, it’s gay, alive, a lust display
Those dreary vows that everyone takes, everyone breaks
Everyone makes divine mistakes
The lusty month of May

Whence this fragrance wafting through the air?
What sweet feelings does its scent transmute?
Whence this perfume floating everywhere?
Don’t you know, it’s that dear forbidden fruit

It’s May, it’s May, the lusty month of May
That darling month when everyone throws self-control away
It’s time to do a wretched thing or two
And try to make each precious day one you’ll always rue

It’s May, it’s May, the month of “Yes, you may”
The time for every frivolous whim, proper or im-
It’s wild, it’s gay, depraved in every way
The birds and bees with all of their vast amorous past
Gaze at the human race aghast
The lusty month of May

Tra la, it’s May, the lusty month of May
That lovely month when everyone goes blissfully astray
Tra la, it’s here, that shocking time of year
When tons of wicked little thoughts merrily appear

It’s May, it’s May, the month of great dismay
When all the world is brimming with fun, wholesome or un-
It’s mad, it’s gay, alive a lust display
Those dreary vows that everyone takes, everyone breaks
Everyone makes divine mistakes
The lusty month of May