I'm home this Sunday watching a Frasier marathon on Hallmark Channel today ... What an amazing and hysterically funny show.
I'm still not feeling that well with these recurring headaches, although I suppose it could just be a hangover. I've done nothing noteworthy or worthwhile this weekend. I need a medical checkup in a big way.
Oh, yes, the Federal shutdown was averted. Thank God. See previous entry for political commentary.
Anyway, as I've mentioned before, I really enjoy jazz and Big Band music and at work I've taken to listening to a wonderful show called "Sound Stage" that is put on by the internet radio station BostonPete.com. It features ragtime, jazz, and Big Band music from the 1910s - 1950s.
The show is hosted by a young man named Bryan Wright, who is something of a musical prodigy himself both with his encyclopedic knowledge of the topic and his own abilities to play.
The above picture is his Sound Stage image. Wright graduated from William & Mary in 2005. He looks like the bartender Chris H. quite a bit.
With that in mind, I am posting the following YouTube video clip of a song that was played last week. OK, maybe it's a bit corny, but I like it. (I could instead post the song "Ballin' the Jack" ...)
Anyway, without further ado ... here is the first half ... The actual singing doesn't start until about the 2:30 mark.
Second half (video quality isn't as good and the lyrics are a bit different from those posted below) ...
Chattanooga Choo Choo
From the 1941 film Sun Valley Serenade, featuring the Glenn Miller Orchestra, Tex Beneke, Paula Kelly and The Modernaires. Lyrics by Mack Gordon and music by Harry Warren.
Pardon me, boy
Is that the Chattanooga choo choo?
Yes, yes, track twenty-nine.
Boy, you can gimme a shine.
Can you afford
To board a Chattanooga choo choo?
I've got my fare
And just a trifle to spare.
You leave the Pennsylvania Station 'bout a quarter to four,
Read a magazine and then you're in Baltimore.
Dinner in the diner,
Nothing could be finer
Than to have your ham an' eggs in Carolina!
When you hear the whistle blowin' eight to the bar,
Then you know that Tennessee is not very far.
Shovel all the coal in,
Gotta keep it rollin'!
Woo, woo, Chattanooga there you are!
There's gonna be
A certain party at the station.
Satin and lace,
I used to call "funny face."
She's gonna cry,
Until I tell her that I'll never roam.
So Chattanooga choo choo,
Won't you choo-choo me home?
Chattanooga choo choo,
Won't you choo-choo me home?
The above picture was one of a series of color photos of 1940s Washington, D.C., that I found online. It was taken outside Union Station in 1943. As you may know, I have a thing about the 1940s...
Speaking of pictures, below are a few I recently took of the dreadful Gay Birds of 17th Street ...
The turkey vulture with the voice of a shrill peacock. You can find him soaring above 17th Street on summer time gay updrafts.
Oh, and of course, how could I forget this bird, the Great Blue Heron. The difference is, I actually like this one. But he's not so keen on me. Oh, well.
OK, that's about all for now. This sure has been a wasted day.