Must be a Brit thing. The problem for one of my age (that's a fancy way of saying me) is that those faces, the look of the kids on stage and the audience and the kids in the audience instantly brings up the How Green Was My Valley mythology and now they're...rockers. I mean all that glorious poetry and the Walter Pidgeon voiceover and now it's come to this...G-L-O-R-I-A. But why lament? Vitality wants what it wants. So carry on kiddies.
Should my husband and I be struck down tomorrow, at least my son will have on tape a great version of my husband performing G-L-O-R-I-A in a band on the eve of our marriage. Music-making is awesome. As are memories. Commentary, perhaps not so much. Time will tell, as time does.
"How Green Was My Valley" [the book] made a huge impression on me, the year I was just a bit younger than my son. "How Green Was My Valley" [the movie] likewise made a huge impression on me, in reruns, just a bit older.
Never could get exercised over Roddy's various eccentricities, even many years or decades later, on account of that movie and what an impact it walloped. Gratitude balanced, as well it should.
I hate Sarah Jessica Parker, Robin Williams, Tim Robbins, Susan Saradon, the BJ Hunnicut guy, brussel sprouts, the Boston Red Sox, commies and well, lawyers.
17 comments:
Wait!
WHERE THE I I I I I I I I I I!
There's no Gloria with out an I in it.
Or something!
Can't spell World Champions without Giants, or something...
Dude I did that just for you.
I thought you would get a kick out of it.
It is just about the best spelling song ever. Hee.
Oh Gawd, here comes MamaM.
Actually she always ignores YOUR spelling errors.
Guy's doing a Mick Jagger impression.
Ohhhh riccccpicccc, where are you? Big sis won't hurt ya.....
Ohhhh riccccpicccc, where are you? Big sis won't hurt ya.....
Blogger hiccuped.
There were some earlier comments about how to cure hiccups.
Must be a Brit thing. The problem for one of my age (that's a fancy way of saying me) is that those faces, the look of the kids on stage and the audience and the kids in the audience instantly brings up the How Green Was My Valley mythology and now they're...rockers. I mean all that glorious poetry and the Walter Pidgeon voiceover and now it's come to this...G-L-O-R-I-A. But why lament? Vitality wants what it wants. So carry on kiddies.
Actually ricpic I was thinking how much the boyish Van resembles Bobby Flay.
Should my husband and I be struck down tomorrow, at least my son will have on tape a great version of my husband performing G-L-O-R-I-A in a band on the eve of our marriage. Music-making is awesome. As are memories. Commentary, perhaps not so much. Time will tell, as time does.
Spelling.
Punctuation.
"How Green Was My Valley" [the book] made a huge impression on me, the year I was just a bit younger than my son. "How Green Was My Valley" [the movie] likewise made a huge impression on me, in reruns, just a bit older.
Never could get exercised over Roddy's various eccentricities, even many years or decades later, on account of that movie and what an impact it walloped. Gratitude balanced, as well it should.
R,L: That Georgia Satellite song could be repurposed for a feminine hygiene ad, no?
Or as a sort of relief song when there's a pregnancy scare. *hee*
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