My Excuses
My, it's getting late. My teaching buddy, Mabel, will be upset that
I am so late posting today. She thinks I sit at home with nothing
else to do, and I have no excuse for putting it off. Well, I have plenty
of excuses. Mabel, I invite you to get your own blog. Don't cost
nothin'. (Yeah, I used that line from Animal House, where John
Belushi says, "Grab a brew. Don't cost nothin'." I loaned that movie
to Mabel. But I think she already had it.) Or, Mabel, you can live
my life, and try to blog every day. Here now! Stop that blubbering!
There is no crying on my blog! You don't really have to live my life.
I was born a coal miner's daughter. Not really. I am listening to
one of my Christmas gifts, "Superstars of Country," the Time Life
collection. Don't be so jealous.
Hmm...why am I so late? Could it be staying up until 1:00, and
getting up at 6:00 just in time to take a 2-hour nap? Perhaps. Then
there's that daily trip to town for the Sonic Cherry Diet Coke.
Today we had to pick up a smashed, opened package at the post
office. That's sad. My parcels are always opened, yet nobody
wants my stuff bad enough to take it.
Ruby, don't take your love to town. Go ahead, anyone named
Ruby. That's a Kenny Rogers song from my collection. My
children needed me to pour cereal and milk for their lunch. The
high-maintenance one (yes, you guessed correctly, it was #1)
wanted the internet every 2 minutes to find a printer driver for his
new old laptop. Then he wanted to chat on the walkie/talkie while
driving HH's new toy. Then he asked for help building a solar car.
Yeah, right. He's barking up the wrong Hillbilly with that one. Then
he had to explain the plot and characters (in detail) of his new
Movies computer game. Then he got sent to his room until HH
got home but HH was an hour late (oh, the bad luck) so he asked
every 10 minutes "Is Dad home yet?"
I love coffee in a cup, little fuzzy pups, old TV shows, and snow.
Some I'm not so crazy about. It's Tom T. Hall singing. The coffee
I can do without, never have liked the stuff, but the pups are OK
except that they have that poopy puppy breath. Old TV shows
and snow, yeah buddy. Where is our snow? My kids got sleds.
We want snow. Preferably around January 4th.
I beg your pardon, I never promised you a rose garden. Neither
did Lynn Anderson, who is singing that right now. Every time I hear
this song I think about that book by the same name about mental
illness that I read back in the day when this song came out. Yes,
I am that old. I need to hike up my granny panties, tie my black
corrective shoes, shine up the walker, and get on with this post.
Tell me you're trying to cure the seven-year ache...Oh,
Roseanne Cash, I'm sorry you got your daddy's looks, but you
sing purty good. I don't have the seven-year ache. 1998 was a
very good year. My #2 son was born, I got to stay home with him
for six months, I got the job I have now, we had just moved into
the Hillbilly Mansion, HH dropped a 5th-wheel trailer hitch on his
big toe and broke it. The toe, not the hitch. Good is in the mind
of the beholder, I guess.
Well, my daddy left home when I was 3, and he didn't leave much
for Ma and me, just this old guitar and an empty bottle of booze.
Not my Hillbilly Daddy. That's a major hit from the Man in Black,
Mr. Johnny Cash, the Boy Named Sue. He didn't write it, actually.
It was written by none other than Shel Silverstein, the man best
know for writing children's poems/books such as "Where the
Sidewalk Ends." Mr. S was quite the songwriter. He also wrote
"Cover of the Rolling Stone," and "Sylvia's Mother," which were
hits for Dr. Hook. Another was "One's on the Way," a Loretta
Lynn classic. And..."Marie Laveaux" for Bobby Bare.
You're welcome for that lesson in classic country music. I'm
warning you, I also got the 70s Music Explosion. Beware.
I am so late posting today. She thinks I sit at home with nothing
else to do, and I have no excuse for putting it off. Well, I have plenty
of excuses. Mabel, I invite you to get your own blog. Don't cost
nothin'. (Yeah, I used that line from Animal House, where John
Belushi says, "Grab a brew. Don't cost nothin'." I loaned that movie
to Mabel. But I think she already had it.) Or, Mabel, you can live
my life, and try to blog every day. Here now! Stop that blubbering!
There is no crying on my blog! You don't really have to live my life.
I was born a coal miner's daughter. Not really. I am listening to
one of my Christmas gifts, "Superstars of Country," the Time Life
collection. Don't be so jealous.
Hmm...why am I so late? Could it be staying up until 1:00, and
getting up at 6:00 just in time to take a 2-hour nap? Perhaps. Then
there's that daily trip to town for the Sonic Cherry Diet Coke.
Today we had to pick up a smashed, opened package at the post
office. That's sad. My parcels are always opened, yet nobody
wants my stuff bad enough to take it.
Ruby, don't take your love to town. Go ahead, anyone named
Ruby. That's a Kenny Rogers song from my collection. My
children needed me to pour cereal and milk for their lunch. The
high-maintenance one (yes, you guessed correctly, it was #1)
wanted the internet every 2 minutes to find a printer driver for his
new old laptop. Then he wanted to chat on the walkie/talkie while
driving HH's new toy. Then he asked for help building a solar car.
Yeah, right. He's barking up the wrong Hillbilly with that one. Then
he had to explain the plot and characters (in detail) of his new
Movies computer game. Then he got sent to his room until HH
got home but HH was an hour late (oh, the bad luck) so he asked
every 10 minutes "Is Dad home yet?"
I love coffee in a cup, little fuzzy pups, old TV shows, and snow.
Some I'm not so crazy about. It's Tom T. Hall singing. The coffee
I can do without, never have liked the stuff, but the pups are OK
except that they have that poopy puppy breath. Old TV shows
and snow, yeah buddy. Where is our snow? My kids got sleds.
We want snow. Preferably around January 4th.
I beg your pardon, I never promised you a rose garden. Neither
did Lynn Anderson, who is singing that right now. Every time I hear
this song I think about that book by the same name about mental
illness that I read back in the day when this song came out. Yes,
I am that old. I need to hike up my granny panties, tie my black
corrective shoes, shine up the walker, and get on with this post.
Tell me you're trying to cure the seven-year ache...Oh,
Roseanne Cash, I'm sorry you got your daddy's looks, but you
sing purty good. I don't have the seven-year ache. 1998 was a
very good year. My #2 son was born, I got to stay home with him
for six months, I got the job I have now, we had just moved into
the Hillbilly Mansion, HH dropped a 5th-wheel trailer hitch on his
big toe and broke it. The toe, not the hitch. Good is in the mind
of the beholder, I guess.
Well, my daddy left home when I was 3, and he didn't leave much
for Ma and me, just this old guitar and an empty bottle of booze.
Not my Hillbilly Daddy. That's a major hit from the Man in Black,
Mr. Johnny Cash, the Boy Named Sue. He didn't write it, actually.
It was written by none other than Shel Silverstein, the man best
know for writing children's poems/books such as "Where the
Sidewalk Ends." Mr. S was quite the songwriter. He also wrote
"Cover of the Rolling Stone," and "Sylvia's Mother," which were
hits for Dr. Hook. Another was "One's on the Way," a Loretta
Lynn classic. And..."Marie Laveaux" for Bobby Bare.
You're welcome for that lesson in classic country music. I'm
warning you, I also got the 70s Music Explosion. Beware.
posted by Hillbilly Mom at 6:44 PM
6 Comments:
Hi Hillbilly Mom,
OK time for you to confess, there is no Mabel is there.
Mabel is just like the Dad on the Nanny, or Marris on Frasier.
I guess life out in the country gets lonely at times, if only Sonic would open up a store in your BARn, then you would be set for life.
Speaking of country songs, I remember hearing one years ago, that was something like 'I love coming into land at LA international Airport'. Is there such a song? Why google, when you can hillbilly?
HooRoo
Rebecca
Bec,
There really is a Mabel. She gave me a pair of used shoes. Sonic in my BARn? What a scathingly brilliant idea! I do not know that country song. I know mostly late 60s, 70s, and 80s. I will need to study up on the 90s.
Dr. Hook references...too cool.
Mr. Silverstein also wrote the Dr. Hook song "Freakers Ball" which for some unknown reason my parents LET me listen to. Serves them right that at age 8 I knew every word and sang it every chance I got.
Oh, I love that Tom T. Hall song... I haven't heard it in forever! I love old pickup trucks and damnit, WHERE THE HELL IS MY SNOW? I'm feeling for you over here. I live in IDAHO and we have no snow either!
Kim,
I knew that, but I haven't heard that song, so it didn't have any hillbilly meaning for me. I must have listened to the A and B sides of the 45 rpm single. Ooh, I'm SOOOOO old! My parents were soooo "square" that they wouldn't even say "beer". My dad would holler up to the kitchen of our split-level abode, with the harvest gold appliances, "Hey, do you want to split a 'cold one'?" Like we didn't know that was a code word for beer.
Nique,
No snow in IDAHO! You deserve it before me.
Wow. I'm so glad you got that CD collection and not me. I'm not sure I could've done it justice by sitting in on my shelf and shuddering every time I walked past.
Although, I must admit, there isn't a Kenny Rogers song I don't know all the words to. My parents warped me.
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