It Only Hurts When I Blog

Greetings, Chief High Bloggy-Mucks!

Blog on, through the wind,
Blog on, through the rain,
And you'll ne-ver blog-a-lone,
You'll NE-ver blog a-lone....

You know what? I never read anyone else's blog. I guess I should have some interest in what my bloggy-brethren are doing, but I don't. ;-)

Changing subjects...

Did you know I love Golden Oldies? 50's and 60's are my favorite - Doo Wop for the 50's and MOST music from the 60's.

I actually bought a Monkees Greatest Hits CD (used, of course) recently. WHY, you ask?

I wanted to hear the song 'SHE' again. It was one of those songs that play in my head and one I never, ever have heard on the radio. YES, in case you're wondering, I remembered most of the words.

Trizzle, trazzle, trazzle, trone... go back in time to the 60's...

My sisters and I (along with assorted friends) used to dance in the living room to the Monkees and the Herman's Hermits and the Beatles - we'd do the 'Skate' and the 'Mashed Potato' and the 'Shimmy' and the 'Shingaling' and other ridiculous dances like the 'Boogaloo'. I think one dance might have been named the 'Shovel', or maybe we just made that one up!

Once we even set up a record player in my grandfathers barn in Maine, then climbed up on the barn rafters with our cousin so we could 'go-go dance' like we were on TV. Not very safe if you ask me...

I didn't like the Rolling Stones at that time - they just seemed so... wild and vulgar compared to the Beatles. I like some of their music now, but I'd still rather not LOOK at them. ;-)

By the way - let's talk about 'The Barn' for a moment. The Barn is a big, red, enclosed barn attached to the farmhouse. For a time there was a rope swing in the center of it. There was a built in wooden ladder where you could get to the loft level, and lots of barn swallows. I love the smell of a barn - it smells of wood and hay and age and time...

A back room held all kinds of old farm tools and implements - a big stone grinding wheel, an old washing machine with a roller wringer mechanism, etc. There was an old car in one corner.

My cousins and uncles would get together in the barn and play 'Barn Ball'. Now 'Barn Ball' is a variation of basketball, but VERY rough. Kind of like Full Contact Basketball. Being guys, they loved it, and would laugh about their minor injuries acquired during a game. I cringe when I think of it. Is Barn Ball something unique to our family? One of the mysteries of the world, I guess.

We'd spend evenings in Maine outside with a campfire telling ghost stories, some of which really did scare us to pieces. My favorites were 'Give me my Liver Back', and the 'Loo-ga-roo'.

I always thought my cousin made up this story about something called the 'Loo-ga-roo'. As an adult I found out that it is a real, Canadian based folktale and the correct spelling is 'Loup garou' - it means werewolf! Here's one story on the internet about the Loup garou.

http://www.americanfolklore.net/folktales/quebec3.html

(By the way, I am sure you know that Canada is so close to Maine that there is a lot of influence there. There is also the potato farmer and lobstering industry friction.)

Well, I've just scratched the surface of that subject, but I'd better get my morning going here and quit blogging about 'old stuff'.

Have fun - whatever you 'go-go' and do today! TTFN!